An American Fairytale

What makes one man falter and the other soar? Why does one victim of a devastating childhood become a success while another bounces from rehab to jail? Is there a gene for resiliency? I once read that psychologists believe all it takes is the support of one person – a mother, father, friend, sibling, spouse or lover – for another to become a happy human being.

I’ve been thinking about these questions ever since I met Sergio Suhett. We go about our lives exchanging pleasantries and small talk with people every day, at work and play. They smile; we smile. All is well. But we never really get to know them – or the battles they’ve fought in their lives. Then one day they tell you their story.

I’ll begin in Brazil, where Sergio grew up in a working-class suburb outside Rio. He was a small, skinny kid, the son of a factory worker and church-going seamstress. At a young age, he knew he was different. He liked girls – many were his best friends – but he had crushes on boys. Bullies teased him. They called him “sissy’’ and kicked him in the head and gut. His father, a macho Brazilian, forced him back into the fray to fight again. More blood, more tears.

Sergio repressed his feelings, even getting engaged to a female friend. His life changed in his early 20s when he met another young man and fell in love. Two decades ago, Brazil was a terrible place for gay men. Coming out was like a death sentence. So Sergio and his friend met in secret. Still, thugs who suspected he was gay randomly attacked him on the street, holding him up at gunpoint. Once, he went to the police for help, but instead of pursuing the attackers they interrogated him. “I’m the victim,’’ he said, standing up defiantly from his chair. The officers beat him to a pulp. “I fled the country after that,’’ Sergio says. “If I didn’t, I knew I would die.’’

He landed in America, moving from Sacramento to San Francisco to New York. It wasn’t easy. To support himself, he made pizza and cleaned houses. At one point, home was a park bench. He never gave up, never wallowed in self-pity. He was working as a reservationist for United Airlines when another employee stopped by his desk to offer help one afternoon. His name was Jon Anthony Carr, a Providence native. “It was very quick after that,’’ says Sergio. “I knew. This is the one.’’ They married, eventually moving to Rhode Island, where they now live.

They’ve been together 19 years, married for six. They have a dog, an English Cocker Spaniel named Luke Sidewalker. “We are geeks,’’ says Sergio. Jon is a corporate travel consultant, writer and cinephile, a passion ignited during boyhood trips to the Avon Cinema. His book, Toujours Gai: From the Land of Oz to the Valley of the Dolls, 100 Pre-Stonewall Films That Helped Make Gay Liberation Possible, is fascinating. (Did you know there is a scene in Red River between John Ireland and Montgomery Clift that has gay undertones?)

Sergio has every excuse in the world to be bitter, but he is not. “Of course I’ve cried and felt anger, but I didn’t allow that to take over my life,’’ he says. “I can’t let the past destroy me. I always look at life and people through positive eyes.’’ Years of therapy helped too. His healing was so successful, so complete, his therapist told him he didn’t need her anymore. She said, “You’re in a good place now.’’

For years, he’s been volunteering at AIDS Project Rhode Island, helping HIV-positive men and women lead dignified lives. He’s on schedule to get his college degree in public relations in December. His dream job is working in community relations for a nonprofit or in a creative position for a private public relations firm.

He expects to get his U.S. citizenship in just over two years. Jon is helping him study for the exam. I wish Sergio the best. The United States is lucky to have him.

Elizabeth Rau can be reached at erau1@verizon.net