For me it was around age 9, circa 1981 or so. Like some of the other posters above, my school had “Green and Yellow Thursdays”, meaning if one wore that colour combination on that day, they were gay. I had to be careful, because I had a yellow ball cap that was green on the underside of the bill. I was gay a few times because of that darn hat. In hindsight, this cracks me up, because although nobody wanted to be “gay”, but none of us knew what it was.
Around that same time, the schoolyard insult of choice was to call someone “gay” or “fag” or “homo”. We didn’t even have enough knowledge to know that the latter half of the word was “sexual”. My dad must’ve heard my brother and I exchanging jabs, because he pulled us aside and asked if we knew what “gay” etc. meant.
I didn’t really understand. It was confusing, as I was still young enough to be, let’s say, “asexual”. Although I had the interests that one would typically see in a 9 year old boy coming up, there was nothing sexual about them. I didn’t start to like girls for a few more years, and prefered the company of my friends. So, I suspected I might be gay. Like I said, “confusing”.
It was a homophobic time, and I recall my earlier youth with a bit of shame. I was young and immature enough that at the high school age, I would repeat any nasty gay joke I heard. I don’t think I had true hate in my heart, but I lacked the wisdom to see that I shouldn’t say these things.
There were a couple of kids in my school days that either came out later, or were in hindsight, definitely gay. I feel bad to remember that I no doubt said bad things in front of them. We even called them gay at the time, but it was because they were effeminate, not because we actually thought they were genuinely homosexual. Lame, I know.
I couldn’t have been all bad. I remember in University when I was 20, there was this one gay kid I recognized from when he was manning the “GAYLOC” - Gays and Lesbians on Campus - booth on the first day of school. You can picture all the different clubs and groups on campus, and all of them having a booth on the indoor track on registration day. This guy caught my eye, and whenever I saw him around, I recognized him as “Mr. Gayloc”.
Anyway, I was swimming regularly for exercise, and one day I saw him in the locker room, naked. I was mature enough by then to know that he wasn’t going to try to have sex with me, and secure enough to not care if a gay guy saw me naked. This was an improvement from Jr. High.
Anyway, I went for my swim, and came back around 45 minutes later. He was still in the locker room, wandering around, naked. In my mind, I invented the scenario that some homophobic people had stolen his clothes and hidden them, article by article in seperate lockers. This was because this had been the prank of choice on unlocked friends’ posessions when I was younger. Then I got to thinking that maybe some homophobe had just stolen his clothes outright.
I started to feel really bad for him, and realized that I had shorts/t-shirt also on hand for when I lifted weights. Not pretty, but it would get him home. So, I worked up my nerve and asked if his clothes had been stolen, with the intent of offering him some backups. He got embarassed, said “no” and then quickly hustled away and got dressed and left. Apparently a pasttime he had was hanging out naked in the locker room.
I can’t say I blame him - if I could hang out in the women’s locker room at a university all day long, I’d be all over that.
Anyway, long story and digression from the original post. My point was to illustrate that even 20+ years ago as a callow, ignorant youth, I was still a good enough person to be willing to help out a gay stranger.