An Open Letter to "Glee"

Dear Glee,

First, let me warn you that this is a bit long. But know that although I will post this on Twitter, I really don't expect any of the talented people who create this show to actually read this. But just in case one of you does read it, I'd like to just get it all out. (It's not bad. It's a huge friggin' thank you for changing the future for my kid, so you know, I need more than a few words.)

Secondly, let me say that I am not your target demographic. I'm a thirty-eight-year-old woman with a wife and a six-year-old boy, and I am more likely to have actual conversations than virtual conversations (I'm crazy like that).

I was, however, forcing my BFF Stacie Sanders (and her many followers) to learn complicated dance routines to Whitney Houston's "How Will I Know?" in grade school, complete with costumes. I may also have donned neon pink gloves (think Madonna circa "Like a Virgin") for our co-ed performance to Prince's "Let's Go Crazy," but it's all a bit hazy.

And, at the age of 12 I decided our little private school needed a talent show, so I just put it together (with Stacie and her many followers), inking giant promo posters by hand and trying to convince the boys to lip sync to something other than Bon Jovi... again.

AND I went to "playwright's camp" instead of getting high with my friends, spent more time backstage than I did at football games and, at the time, was the only high school student doing community theater in St. Cloud, Minnesota.

So maybe I'm not your demographic, but like so many of your fans who no doubt write beautiful notes of thanks, I was once one of the loser "let's put on a show!" geeks at my school.

Which is why I enjoyed watching the first season of Glee. It was fun, and campy and sometimes unbelievably awesome and brave. But to be frank, it wasn't must-see TV... for me. (Again, not your demographic.) (And again... I'm a mom, so my free time is limited.)

But then, in this, the second season, I noticed you weren't relegating the Karofsky bullying storyline to one "very special episode" and I thought, hey. Hey. This is different.

And oh look, the Brittany and Santana love story is so much more than the gratuitous lesbian scenes we usually see (only) during sweeps. Their love is kind of sad, and beautiful, and true.

Then I sort of fell in love with the relationship between Kurt and Blaine. So sweet. I thought back to my private high school (also a boarding school, but co-ed, and uniform-free... like an East Coast prep school, but in the most inbred county in Minnesota).

I remembered the darling gay boys who didn't mind my black lipstick, who introduced me to Erasure and drag and Interview magazine. The boys who were closeted but found ways to moon over each other, slipping love notes in lockers, counting the days until we could hit the clubs in Minneapolis (all ages, Sunday night!), where no one cared who they loved or how they danced or what they believed.

These were the boys I walked across the quad so they wouldn't get hazed (buckets of Gatorade dumped on them from balconies, taunted and threatened and yes, shoved into lockers) by the assholes who went to mass every Wednesday and Sunday, thinking they had done nothing to forgive.

Today those gay boys of mine are out, they have husbands and boyfriends and children -- and a voice.

So I started watching dutifully. And then, I watched the big kiss, riveted, thinking, "Wait... that was not a closed-mouth, two-second peck. That was a full-on kiss, kiss."

I had to know.

What do the kids think?

So I went on Twitter, and noticed that ALL of the tweets were positive. Super positive. From everyone -- gay, straight, questioning, fluid, whatever. Thousands of straight 15-year-old girls were freaking their shit, professing their willingness to get a sex change so they would stand a chance with Chris Colfer. I knew they would be more tolerant, but I had no idea they would be ALL over it.

This lead to my crash course in Tumblr and Klaine and fanfiction (seriously... I was blushing... why are all the little straight girls writing smut about two gay boys?). I started trolling, and found nothing but love.

Nothing. But. Love.

Oh I know the haters are out there. I see it every day. My kid has three gay parents (my girl and I made a baby with one of the gay boys I mentioned earlier), and even though we live in New York, we're acutely aware of all of the hate.

But still.

I read a Tumblr post by a young woman (also from MN) who used to have hate in heart (or was taught to) and after Chris Colfer and Darren Criss and Klaine, her heart -- and her mind -- opened wide and she pulled a 180. She changed her mind about gay people after watching Glee. That is huge. HUGE.

The Klaine kiss lead me to youth culture, and suddenly I started to realize the impact of Glee. Which is why I want to say thank you, ten thousand times.

My son Jack is too young to watch Glee. It won't be the show that defines his generation -- but it has changed his world. As he comes of age, all of these kids who are creating gifs instead of doing their homework will be assuming authoritative roles. They'll be entering positions of power and making decisions. They'll take their place in this world, a world of their own design.

Today they are Gleeks. Ten, twenty years from now, they will be running things -- making art and laws and peace and war. And my kid will live by their rules, in their world (until he grows up to do the same). And that world will have more love than hate, more understanding than ignorance, more acceptance than judgment... thanks, in part, to you.

So thank you, Glee. You've changed the world for my son, the child of three queers who love him very much, and want him to get all of the love he can.

PS: Here's a pic of us, the Easter before last. It's my favorite.