Culture Shock by Michael King

I’ve had numerous experiences where I found myself in situations, environments or places that were so different than what I could have expected. The most profound was returning to the states after two years in Southeast Asia. I had thought that I was involved in an honorable and positive cause. Arriving in uniform as was required, my family and I came from the airport into San Francisco.

When I left the states no one wore long hair like we saw in downtown, nor dirty, ragged clothing, beads etc. What really surprised me were the anti-war and anti-military signs and attitudes. I think I remember being spit on. I still remained in the air force for another year during which time I was looking at my options for when I would return to civilian life. I was up for promotion to major, but knew that would mean a military career. I did well as an officer, however my heart wasn’t in the military and I had to get out and find a place where I could make a living for my family as well as somewhere that I could possibly feel comfortable.

I knew that to return to New Mexico or Kansas was not an option. Neither was anywhere else that I had been or even visited. Finally I decided on Hawaii as the only option. We moved there and entered a different world. I loved it. But in some ways it took some effort to adjust to that culture also. After about seven years with one of those living in Portland, having been a single father which was frowned on, I had remarried and realized it was again time to relocate. We ended up in Denver. Another culture shock, I had difficulty finding a job using the skills from the past until finally I got a job as an art therapist at the Children’s Asthma Research Institute and Hospital.

I had a degree in education focusing on childhood development and had another major in art with enough credits in psychology to have moved in that direction. The combination was perfect for this residential treatment center. I had another wonderful seven years there. It now seemed that six or seven years were how long it lasted with everything I did, each time becoming a part of a different culture. And since I never developed street smarts, I am always surprised with each new environment. I think that street smart people learn at a young age to see their surroundings more clearly without the glorious and wonderful expectations that soon become challenging disillusions. Otherwise it has been for me a series of continuing culture shocks in which I have to readjust my thinking and my dreams of a glorious and perfect life in a world of progress, hope and kindness.

Last evening we watched the movie “The Man from La Manchaca”. I have a different slant on things but the idealism, hope and glorious potentials for the human race is still in my thoughts and actions as I see the sad inhumanity to others in the homes, the workplace, the corporate greed, the national propaganda and lies, the aggression on the innocent, the helpless and those who don’t fit into the accepted molds of the culture that dominates where they are.

I am rather glad that I have been the dreamer and tried to live a perfect life in a perfect world. I see no good reason why my dream shouldn’t be the way things are, except that we probably need the experiences and challenges to grow, mature, learn tolerance, understanding, have causes to work for, perhaps a mission in life or an opportunity to be of service and gain the self-respect that brings about peace of mind and a sense of purpose.

I’ve owned my own business, worked in retail, volunteered, worked in retirement communities, traveled and have had loving relationships that for a while were quite excellent. I have also experienced failures and defeat, joy and depression, hope and hopelessness. Love and hate. I’ve had a lot of surprises and have been shocked many times in many cultures. Most times because seeing the surroundings and attitudes of those around me differed dramatically from my expectations and the amount of experience that I had at any given time.

I have been perpetually naïve, but I trust that the ideals and dreams are but the reality that will exist in eternity.

I choose to live as a loving and sincere dreamer, always thankful and willing to face the next culture shock.

© 24 November 2012

About the Author

I go by the drag name, Queen Anne Tique. My real name is Michael King. I am a gay activist who finally came out of the closet at age 70. I live with my lover, Merlyn, in downtown Denver, Colorado. I was married twice, have 3 daughters, 5 grandchildren and a great grandson. Besides volunteering at the GLBT Center and doing the SAGE activities," Telling your Story"," Men's Coffee" and the "Open Art Studio". I am active in Prime Timers and Front Rangers. I now get to do many of the activities that I had hoped to do when I retired; traveling, writing, painting, doing sculpture, cooking and drag.