Love, Ellen: A Mother/Daughter Journey (22 page)

We talked over all the risks.

I couldn’t help pointing out that she might be jeopardizing everything she had struggled to attain in her career. Other concerns also came up, such as the invasion of her privacy. This is one of the great drawbacks of fame. Ellen had so little privacy as it was. Like other celebrities, she had to contend with the press and the public, who felt as if they owned her.

But, Ellen reminded me, there had been speculations in the tabloids anyway—like the hubbub over the facetious chapter in her book, about hating to wear dresses, which she called, “Ellen DeGeneres Is a Man!” Of course, the tabloids had also tried to make hay with the part in the book where Ellen talked humorously about her bad memory. Somewhere they got a picture of a pensive-looking Ellen and gave it the headline, “Woman Without a Past.” Even I had been the subject of a tabloid story—a complete fabrication. The story said that Elizabeth Taylor and I had met while she was hospitalized and discussed our favorite comedian, Ellen.

As Ellen and I were having our discussion, the graduating class of 1976 of Atlanta High School in Atlanta, Texas, was planning to celebrate its twentieth reunion. Articles had appeared on the front page of the newspaper, asking, “Will Ellen Come to This Year’s 20th Reunion?” Wonderful quotations were included from teachers and friends who remembered what a likable, funny person Ellen had been in high school.

Actually, Ellen was not planning to attend; but now, with the prospect of her coming out, I wondered if the town would still embrace her as an openly gay woman. I also wondered: What if she had come out as a lesbian but hadn’t become famous? Would people have trouble accepting her? I wasn’t sure of the answers, but I knew that none of this was going to be easy.

My old reflex, of course, was to wonder, “Why rock the boat?”

Ellen’s reason was simple: “This is something I have to do.”

My decision was just as simple—to support her all the way. I saw that her own struggles, her fears, and her weariness at having to hide part of herself had influenced her choice. And I saw that she was resolved and determined, prepared to accept the consequences. She knew well what they were.

As we talked it over further, I realized that not only did she have to do this; it was something she had the right to do, as any private or public person has the right to do.

Of course she had a right to be honest about who she is. I was reminded of some of the articles in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights adopted by the UN General Assembly in 1948:

• Article 1: All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights. They are endowed with reason and conscience and should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood.
  
• Article 3: Everyone has the right to life, liberty and security of person.
  
• Article 5: No one shall be subjected to torture or to cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment.
  
• Article 19: Everyone has the right to freedom of opinion and expression.
  

This declaration specifically says human rights. No one or no group is excluded.

These are rights we can all relate to. As a public person, Ellen had an absolute right to come out. And coming out made a lot of sense for Ellen Morgan as a character in a sitcom. In earlier shows, while she had dated and had some almost-successful relationships, her character arc and the show’s story line seemed to have both become rudderless.

As for all her madcap, zany escapades—getting in and out of sticky predicaments—the writers were already feeling that they had exhausted those situations. Of course, many of these shows were classics. There is the hilarious episode in which Martha Stewart is coming to dinner and Ellen is cooking Cornish hens and twice-baked potatoes. Then there is an episode I loved, in which Ellen goes to a ballet class; and another very funny one in which she pretends to be a fitness trainer. Some of my other favorites were the episode of the bachelorette party with Kathy Najimy, the show about Paige’s wedding, and the episode when Ellen tries volunteer work.

For Ellen Morgan to come out would open up a new avenue of writing possibilities, and it wasn’t out of character.

While people often assume that the two Ellens are the same person, that is a mistake. Certainly, Ellen brought her own goofiness and offbeat humor to the character, but Ellen Morgan was not very successful on the job, was usually unlucky in love, and could sometimes be pitifully insecure, with a desperate need to please. In contrast, Ellen DeGeneres is very successful and has had very positive romantic relationships; and though it’s important for her to be liked, she’s not insecure about it. Ellen Morgan rambled and went off on tangents; Ellen DeGeneres has a point. Her book says so.

Most significant of all: the real Ellen went though her process of self-discovery and coming out in her late teens; Ellen Morgan was about to go through it as a woman in her thirties.

Ellen knew that even though other TV shows had supporting characters who happened to be gay, there had never been a homosexual lead in a sitcom; she also knew having a lead character go through the process of discovering her or his sexual orientation was something never before done on television. The odds that the network and studio would go for it weren’t good. But Ellen had a powerful argument for trying. Grim statistics show that gay teenagers are more at risk of depression, suicide, and attempted suicide, and she felt that this was an opportunity to send a positive message to these kids—as well as to all gay people: “We’re OK. We don’t have to be ashamed of who we are and who we love.”

The more we talked about the positives, the more excited I became. Over the last few years, as the public clamored to know more and more about her, I was constantly asked to divulge behind-the-scenes information: “Was she always funny?” “Where does she live?” “Is she married?” The first two questions weren’t hard to answer, even though I was never specific about where she lived. With the last question, however, I had to be evasive—“No,” was my stock answer, “she’s married to her career.”

For all those years, I couldn’t even join P-FLAG—Parents, Family, and Friends of Lesbians and Gays, a supportive organization—because it would have meant “outing” Ellen. Now, it was a relief to know that I too would be able to come out of the closet.

After a top secret meeting Ellen had with the writers and producers, the next step was getting the go-ahead from Disney and ABC. That process began in August of 1996 with another top secret meeting at Disney. None of the executives there knew exactly what the agenda was. When Ellen told me about it, she described how she had started out by making a few jokes, loosening everyone up. And then, as she proceeded to present her idea, everything suddenly became deathly quiet and serious.

Ellen tried hard not to start crying, but the tears came. No one in that room could have had any doubt about how important this was to her. So no one was going to give her a flat no. Instead, she got a maybe—the possibility could be explored. But until there was a script in hand, there were no commitments.

It was then that the writers and producers came up with the code name “The Puppy Episode”—so hush-hush that when the other cast members and Tammy Billik, the casting director, saw it up on the storyboard for possible upcoming episodes, they had no idea what it was.

In September, with
Ellen
just starting back on the air for its fourth season, someone leaked the news to the
Hollywood Reporter.
This could have been a disaster. ABC and Disney were bombarded by calls and letters from all camps—pro, con, and simply curious. The official stance was a refusal to comment on the rumors.

For the next several months we were all on pins and needles. The secrecy surrounding the script was so intense that the drafts were printed on dark-maroon paper—making them impossible to copy.

Finally, in March of 1997, an inspired script for an hour-long special was given approval.

By now speculation had become so fierce that it would have been ridiculous to try to halt the momentum. The headlines had been blaring the news since the previous fall:
GAY TV—WILL ELLEN DEGENERES’ ALTER EGO COME OUT WITH HER HANDS UP’?
(
Entertainment Weekly
);
AIRING OUT ELLEN’S CLOSET
(
The Advocate
);
MOST DRAWN-OUT UNOFFICIAL CLIFF-HANGER
(
Out
);
IS SHE OR ISN’T SHE?
(
People
);
WILL THE REAL ELLEN PLEASE STAND UP!
(
Curve
magazine);
WILL ELLEN STILL WEAR PANTS?
(
Newsweek
).

I was amazed at Ellen’s focus and her relative calm throughout the hysteria, even when televangelists and religious extremists went on the warpath with their discriminatory, homophobic rhetoric. Of course it upset her, though, and it angered me. It was horrible. It was unchristian.

Funny, talented, smart, and a good, nice person, Ellen was used to having people like her. Now all of sudden, people like the right-wing extremist Jerry Falwell were saying hateful things, calling her “Ellen DeGenerate.” Ellen could have become defensive and strident, but she did the true Christian thing and turned the other cheek. Later, when she was asked about Falwell’s comment in
Time
Magazine’s cover story, “Yep, I’m Gay”—which was published in conjunction with the coming out episode—Ellen said:

I had wondered how the folks back in Atlanta, Texas, might feel about their hometown star coming out.
TV Guide
actually went and interviewed some locals. The wonderful principal of Ellen’s high school, Barbara Quails, was a hundred percent supportive—as were lots of people, including several old friends of Ellen’s and younger students now attending her high school. Others, such as an old boyfriend of Ellen’s, were not so broad-minded.

While all this was going on, a less vocal but no less energized coalition of gay rights activists were busy on the Internet, preparing for a major celebration.

Indeed, the two weeks in which “The Puppy Episode” was rehearsed and shot felt like one long party. And it seemed like a party nobody wanted to miss, as the list of stars making guest appearances grew longer and longer—Laura Dern, Oprah Winfrey, Demi Moore, Gina Gershon, Dwight Yoakum, Billy Bob Thornton, k.d. lang, Melissa Etheridge, and others.

With my usual soft-focus memory, I find it hard to pinpoint specific moments from this experience. Instead, I’m left with fragments of memories—a blur in which my clearest recollection is the palpable exhilaration felt by all, for taking part in something important and meaningful. There was also a sense of fun. I have memories of the rehearsals in which, under the direction of Gil Junger, a hilarious and touching piece of writing came to life; memories of the breaks between scenes and seeing El and all those guest stars relaxing on a sofa and chairs and quietly talking together; memories of exchanging proud smiles with Vance; memories of the filming itself and the roar of the live audience whose cheer of jubilation was literally deafening as I, an extra in the scene, looked on in “surprise” when Ellen turned to Laura Dern’s character and unwittingly leaned into an airport loudspeaker and spoke her truth: “I’m gay.”

Most of all, I am left with the memory of the look of utter relief on El’s face at the end of the shoot. She cried and I cried, mirroring her emotions.

E
LLEN LIKES TO
joke that I need to live within one mile of her. It happens to be true, if for no reason other than convenience. It does save gas. And then there are Trevor and Murphy, otherwise known as my granddogs. I am their official dog-sitter. Often when El is going out for a long night, I’ll sleep at her house and take care of the “boys.”

One such night was March 25, 1997, Oscar night. The last
Ellen
of the season had been shot and the wrap party for the year was to be held in a few days. When Ellen left to attend the exclusive
Vanity Fair
Oscar party at Morton’s, along with her then manager, Arthur Imparato, it struck me that my daughter was especially beautiful that night. She had her hair and makeup done, as she does for most public events, but that wasn’t the reason. There was a glow and a lightness about her, as if some heaviness she had carried for years had been lifted off.

I watched some of the post-Oscar coverage on TV before drifting contentedly off to sleep, only to be awakened in the wee hours by the barking of Trevor and Murphy, who heard the limo pulling in. As usual, when this happens, I threw on an old robe and stumbled outside with them, hoping we’d all be able to sleep in a little later in the morning. The air was cool and from where I was standing in that part of the yard, I could look through large windows into the entrance hall and dining room. In my half-asleep state, I noticed that with Ellen and Arthur was an elegant young woman I had never seen before.

And that’s how I met Anne Heche—a memorable meeting for all of us that night. They later described to me how, the moment El walked into Morton’s, she looked across the room at Anne, who was looking at her, and the attraction was instantaneous. Anne later described it as a “chemical change.” She took the initiative, letting El know right away what she was feeling. El felt it too but was cautious. After all, up until that night, Anne was known as heterosexual. But Anne’s position was, and is, that love and attraction aren’t about those distinctions. As she has said, “It’s not about what’s between your legs. It’s about what’s between your ears and in your heart.”

El and Anne have been together since that night.

I liked Anne right away. That night I made a note in my journal of things to be grateful for: “El’s new happiness and meeting Anne.” March 27, two days later, I noted: “A wonderful talk with Anne.” Then on March 29 I was grateful for: “Anne for El—so far.” And on April 5: “El and Anne’s happiness.”

The more I got to know her and the more I saw the purity of her love for Ellen, the more impressed I was with Anne as a person, and with her intelligence, even her brilliance. And I quickly learned about her marvelous acting, watching videos of
Donnie Brasco
and HBO’s
If These Walls Could Talk.
and, later, attending the Los Angeles premieres of her films,
Volcano
and
Wag the Dog.