By EMILY DONAHOE

IR Staff Writer

The members of the Seattle Men's and the Seattle Women's Choruses are doctors, lawyers, teachers and hairstylists.

Many of them also happen to be gays and lesbians.

"It's a small microcosm of society, right there on the risers," says Maria Lamarca Anderson, who does public relations for both choruses, and is also a straight member of the Women's Chorus.

This summer, both choirs are hitting the road for a tour of several small Rocky Mountain towns to share their music and their message.

The Seattle Women's Chorus will sing at St. Paul's United Methodist Church at 7:30 p.m. on July 6, with special guest, local singer-songwriter Judy Fjell. The performance is a fundraiser for the Montana Human Rights Network and Montana PFLAG.

Artistic director Dennis Coleman says that for singers, the Seattle Men's and Women's choruses provide a positive environment away from the places where the gay community traditionally convenes.

"It provides a healthy alternative for kinship, for fellowship," says Coleman. "So for the singers, it's a great opportunity. For the audience, it's primarily about putting a face on the gay community. Many people think they don't know gay people. We put a very positive, professional face on the gay community."

In part, the choruses decided to tour the Rocky Mountains because it would allow more members -- who must pay their own way -- to participate.

But also, says Coleman, they wanted to visit smaller communities that didn't likely have a large contingent of out gays and lesbians -- communities where gay youth often feel lonely and unsupported.

"We have dozens of singers that come to us from these states," Coleman says. "It's a place where there needs to be more positive experience from the GLBT community."

For several members of both choirs, the tour will be a homecoming and will see them singing in front of the same family and community members that they hid their sexuality from as as gay young adults.

Today, these singers experience everything from shaky acceptance to outright opposition -- and in some fortunate cases, love and understanding -- from the communities that raised them.

One of those choir members is Julie Armitage, who grew up in Livingston.

Her mother was gay and in a monogomous relationship, so when, as a junior high school age girl, Armitage discovered that she was also gay, she kept it to herself -- she knew firsthand what kind of difficulty came with bring openly gay in small town Montana.

"It wasn't comfortable; it wasn't safe," says Armitage, who didn't even tell her mother the truth about her sexuality.

Instead, Armitage dated guys, joined the cheerleading squad and "fit in to the best" of her ability.

Armitage has since come out and has good relationships with her family and friends from home, but she says she is nervous for those choir members who have not yet come to peace with their families.

For all of the singers, she says, there is some anxiety about how they will be received; Armitage has seen gay bashing even in larger cities with reputations for open mindedness.

"It's sad, but it happens," says Armitage. "You can't expect everybody to love you and understand you."

In Helena however, Coleman seems to be particularly optimistic about how the Women's Chorus will be recieved, because of its art scene and strong women's community.

The program for July 6 will include pieces by Carole King, as well as some comedy numbers, plus several selections from a series called "Only Human."

"It's timely music," Coleman said.

"For me, it's like my sexuality doesn't define me as a person. It doesn't matter who we love," says Armitage, who is thrilled about coming to Montana for several reasons, including the chance to show off Big Sky country to her fellow choir members and, hopefully, to reach audience members' hearts and minds.

"It's something that happens in between the lines," she says.

Anderson describes the choruses' effect this way: "It's just a gentle way of saying: 'Look, we're all the same.' "

Most of all, Armitage is excited for her friends and family to see her onstage; for one thing, her father hasn't seen her sing since high school.

And after concealing her sexuality long enough to be married to a man for 12 years, scared to death to leave him and even more scared to tell people why, the choir, she says, has given her "everything."

"It has brought me the Julie I am today. I found family; I found friends both gay and straight. Julie grew up -- and I did it through the chorus," she says.

"I'm not this little timid, quiet little flower on the wall anymore," says Armitage. "I want them to see that."