Sneaking Infinite Chazz into his Boyfriend's Bedroom

San Fernando Valley, October 1992

In the fall of 1992, I was working at Camp Routh, a probation camp for juvenile delinquents, and sneaking a Gay 101 unit into their sex education class, under the nose of the old-school homophobe director, Denman.  A boy named Chazz turned out to be gay, and asked if I could get him a day pass for his boyfriend's birthday:

"Ramon and me been ...um, you know, like dating for awhile.  This will be our second birthday, and so that's why I don't want to miss it."

It wouldn't be an easy task.  Asking Denman for a day pass to see a "boyfriend" would only result in yelling, Bible thumping, and probably a visit from the staff psychiatrist.

We couldn't even demote Ramon to a "friend."  In juvenile delinquency theory of the 1990s, friends were always trouble, steering kids away from the safe haven of home into late night bacchanals of sex, drugs, and vandalism.

But I had another idea.

Any of the staff members could ask to take a juvenile out as a special reward for good behavior or good grades -- a movie, a basketball game, or a pizza, as long as the expedition didn't take more than four hours, and the juvenile was back by 6:00 pm.  I told Denman that Chazz had submitted an excellent practice "employment application" in my life skills class, and as a reward I wanted to take him to see Home Alone.  He agreed.

It was still risky: if anyone found out what we were really up to, I would be fired, and Chazz would spend the rest of his term confined to his cabin.

We left the camp at 1:30, right after lunch, and drove down into the San Fernando Valley.  On the way I quizzed Chazz on every aspect of Home Alone in case someone asked later.

He waited until we were past Pacoima to reveal another problem: Ramon's father was ok with him being gay, but disapproved of his relationship with a "thug," so the visit would have to be clandestine.

"Don't worry, though -- his father works nights, so he'll be asleep when we get there."

Wait -- I was imagining a birthday party, with twenty people wearing funny hats, noisemakers, blowing out the candles on a cake.  I didn't sign on for a secret meeting with Dad snoring in the next room.

 But that's exactly what I got. At about 2:00, we pulled up to a tiny house on Vanowen Street in Reseda, with a spiked fence outside.  Chazz led me around back and rapped lightly on a bedroom window.  It was opened by a Hispanic kid, black haired, dark eyed, thin, even younger-looking than Chazz.
 

"I'll wait in the car," I whispered.

"No -- what if somebody sees you and wonders what you're doing there?  You have to come in with us."

So I pulled myself up over the stucco into a small, dimly lit bedroom.  The bed was unmade.  The floor was littered with clothes, comic books, toys -- how old was this Ramon, anyway? (Turns out he was 17.)

Chazz and Ramon hugged, then moved to sit on the bed.  I froze with embarrassment and fear. Was I about to see a teenage sexual encounter?  It was legal in California for two 17-year olds to have sex, but not for an adult to watch!

"You can kiss and hug, but no sex!" I said.  "I'll be in the living room."  I grabbed a comic book from Ramon's desk and eased my way out before they could protest.

 An hour passed.  I read my comic book, read TV Guide, turned the tv on very softly, listened to rhythmic snoring from Dad.

At 3:00 sharp I figured they were finished -- or should be -- and returned to Ramon's bedroom.  I couldn't knock without waking Dad, so I opened the door and peered into the darkness.  They were lying on the bed in each other's arms, apparently asleep.  Fortunately, fully clothed.

"It's time to go," I whispered.  "Chazz, let's move!"

They didn't hear me.  I walked over and nudged Chazz to wake him.

I didn't notice that the snoring had stopped.

Or that Ramon's father was standing in the doorway, tall, hirsute, muscular, wearing only underwear, staring in disbelief at the 30-year old man bending over his son's bed.  

What happened next is a blur.  I remember yelling in Spanish, grabbing Chazz, and shoving him out the front door.  I remember Chazz giggling all the way up the mountain.  I remember blushing when Denman asked if Chazz had a good time.

Remarkably, we weren't discovered, and Ramon was simply grounded. But I had the nagging feeling that I had been played by a teenage con artist.

Chazz and I stayed in contact.  When he left Routh and moved in with his parents, he used to come up to West Hollywood to visit every couple of weeks.

See also: Lane's Bear Boyfriend and Infinite Chazz

Teaching Juvenile Delinquents about Gay People

Wrestling Tournament

Tujunga, California,  July 1992

After I got back from Nashville in 1992, I found a job as a youth counselor at Camp Routh, a juvenile probation camp (alternative to prison).

It was in Tujunga, CA, up by the Angeles National Forest, about 20 miles from West Hollywood.  There were about 50 juvenile boys, aged 15 to 18, living in cabins like summer camp). No violent offenders; mostly property crimes and drugs.  They took regular high school classes, played sports, and had individual and group counseling sessions. 

My job:
1. Leading recreational activities, including movie nights and a field trip to the L.A. County Museum of Art, and, since I had a background in wrestling, a wrestling tournament.

2. Taking kids out for movies or pizza as rewards for good behavior.


3. Since I had a background in human resources, teaching resume writing and job interviewing.

4. Plus "life skills," like how to open a checking account, how to sign a lease on an apartment -- and sex education!

Classroom at the Juvenile Camp

Imagine my embarrassment in being assigned to teach "where babies come from" to a class of 15-18 year old juvenile delinquents, most of whom had been sexually active for years!

And my consternation when I discovered that the curriculum was entirely heterosexist!

Physiological changes during puberty -- "discovery of girls" -- heterosexual dating and romance -- the mechanics of sexual intercourse -- pregnancy -- birth control -- sexually-transmitted diseases.

It was easy to change "discovery of girls" to "increased interest in sex" and drop the pronouns in the "dating and romance" chapter, but when we got to "the mechanics of sexual intercourse" with only men and women, I had to do something.

I never saw Denman shirtless

The director, a former bodybuilder named Denman, was rather conservative, always talking about faith-based counseling programs, so I didn't have much hope.

Sure enough, when I asked if I could include a unit on gay people, he stared at me as if I had said something dirty.  "Why would they need to know about that?  They're not gay."

"How do you know they're all heterosexual?" I asked.  "10% of the population is gay, so that means about five of them."

"No way!  They're just kids!"

Right, gayness is an adult "lifestyle choice."  I'd heard that one before.  "Well -- even if they're not gay, they're going to encounter gay people in their lives, and they should have some background."

He grinned.  "Oh...you mean like what to do if a homosexual tries to seduce you!  You're right, Davis -- that could be a useful skill for these kids. Lord knows they get a lot of that in juvie.  Go ahead and add it to your class!"



Of course, that's not what I added to my class.  During 3 class sessions, when Denman wasn't around, I taught "Gay 101."  It took 3 days because whenever anyone passed by close enough to hear, I switched to something about "how you know if a girl is into you."  But eventually we covered:
1. People can be gay, heterosexual, or bisexual.
2. It's not a choice or a preference.
3. You can be gay or straight and not sexually active.
4. Gay people don't all have AIDS.
5. All gay men aren't feminine, and all lesbians aren't masculine.
6. It's not illegal to be gay.
7. Lots of religions teach that being gay is ok
8. Gays don't go around trying to seduce kids.
9. Some kids are gay.
10. Homophobic harassment is bad.

They were surprisingly attentive, for a class of rowdy underachievers with no pictures or film strips.  Most of them had never heard anything about gay people before, except that they were bad, and this all came as a revelation.  Some of them had gay siblings, or gay friends; one had a gay Dad.  But no one in the class came out.

Chazz Chest

A few days after Gay 101 ended, a boy named Chazz approached me after class.  He was older, probably 17 or 18,  a little on the small side -- not a wrestler -- stunningly handsome, but very reserved around authority figures.  He never talked or volunteered in class, although his homework assignments were fine.  Sometimes saw him laughing and roughhousing with his friends.

"Can you help me get a day pass?" he asked.

"Why, are you in disciplinary?" Denman was good at granting day passes for birthdays, religious holidays, a parent in the hospital, even a brother home on leave from the army.  Except if you were being confined for a disciplinary infraction.

"No, I'm good."

"Then just go and tell Denman what you need it for."

"Well, that's the thing," Chazz said.  "He wouldn't understand."

"He gave Noriega a day pass to go to his little brother's sixth grade graduation.  I'm sure he'll understand your situation."

"Well, see. . . "  Chazz reddened.  "It's my friend's birthday."

I was a little surprised.  In juvie, family was everything, your one safe haven, your bolster against the bad things of the world (they ignored the fact that many of the kids had horrible, abusive parents). Friends were always suspect, bad influences who would lead you astray.  It was not unusual for the kids to be told "stay away from this person" as part of their probation.

"I admit, that's an unusual situation, but I'm sure if you explain the situation, I'm sure you can get an exception."

"Well, see...the thing is, he's not really my friend.  He's my...um...well, my lover."

Next: Sneaking Chazz into his boyfriend's bedroom.