Let me take you back 11 years to kick off this week’s contribution. I’d always suspected that a college mate of mine was gay. Now it’s not that I spent all that much time thinking about her sexuality, probably about as much time as I’d imagine she spent thinking about mine.
And it came as no surprise to me that, as our time in academia came to a close, she came out during one of those many pleasant evenings we spent in a Dublin hostelry. But I was delighted that she told me and my fellow soon-to-be journalism graduates.
She clearly felt the time was right to tell her class mates, some of whom she’d grown to know particularly well over four years of studies, assignments and learning the journalistic ropes, that she was a woman who loved women. And I must confess, it was a source of great pride to the rest of us that she felt comfortable enough in our company to let us know that she was gay.
