Resolving the Conflict Starts With Me

A few days ago I read Kevin Thornton’s HuffPost blog, “I Was a Teenage Fundamentalist: How I Resolved the Conflict Between Jesus and My Sexuality.” (You should read his before you read mine.) I was immediately taken with his ability to draw such a distinct portrait of my life. I mean, he doesn’t even know me, yet there I was beginning to take shape in the words I was reading. I knew he was telling his own story (and that his story, like mine, is not unique), but the similarities were uncanny…at least through the first paragraph. 

Churchgoer…check. Singer of the Baptist hymn Just As I Am…check. Early 90s…check. Dark secret…check. He’s from small-town Southern Indiana I’m from small-town Kentucky. There I was coming into focus. I was standing in front of my pew in the church building where I attended worship services with multiple members of my family, singing my heart out for Jesus, concealing my truth, hiding my secret, scared to be me.

I had no one to talk to about any of the desires and feelings that were bubbling just under the surface, struggling for freedom, trying to take a breath in the light. I couldn’t talk to my pastor who would pound on his pulpit while his raised voice told me of the fire and brimstone that God rained down on the Sodomites of Sodom and Gomorrah for their sins — the major sin being homosexuality. (Uh oh. He’s talking about me. I’m beginning to feel those homosexual desires.) I couldn’t talk to my friends at the time because they would just as easily call me queer or sissy as come to my birthday party (then call me queer or sissy at the birthday party). I couldn’t talk to my parents. Oh no. I didn’t trust them to understand or accept that their son was gay. (I didn’t know what my parents would do with the information, but I was so riddled with fear that I couldn’t find out.) So I kept pushing those desires and feelings down, keeping them at bay. I was tormented, alone, scared.

I never experienced any “pray away the gay” organizations like Thornton’s referenced Exodus Ministries. But I spent more time on my knees behind the closed door of my bedroom, crying, pleading, begging, praying to not be gay than I can even remember. I created my own hell of trying to “pray the gay away.” The gay feelings never went away though. I attended worship services three times a week. I prayed. I sang. I had asked Jesus into my heart and believed my soul was saved from eternal damnation in hell. But I was still gay. Those homosexual desires never changed except to grow stronger. 

Thornton says that going away to college saved his life. I never thought of college as saving my life. That’s probably because it took so long for me to start living my life after I got there. Getting there did help. It got me out of my small town. It opened my eyes to other ideas and beliefs. It helped me start questioning and forming my own opinions. I was drawn to and surrounded by people living the life I wanted to be living — I was on the five-year plan with a double major in Performing Arts and Advertising — but still it took me until the summer before my fifth year to finally achieve enough courage to come out. I didn’t get to college and suddenly find my freedom. I was thinking differently, yes, but I still felt the heat of that fire and brimstone keeping me restrained. The truth is: I still feel the chains that want me bound to those beliefs that were so rigidly instilled in me in my youth. I’m still afraid of that fire and brimstone hell.

I’ve recently come to realize that that scared child is still very present inside me, and he’s been responsible for many of the fear-based choices I’ve made in my life. He’s also very responsible for the fears that I still allow to prevent me from living my adult gay life to the fullest without concern of parental disappointment and eternal damnation. And unlike Thornton, I never really resolved my conflict with God. It’s a struggle, and I’m trying, but right now I feel as if I’m stepping away from God completely so that I can come back on my own terms with my own goals for our relationship. I should have done this years ago, but fear (like I learned in the pew of my church building) is something that is used to keep one in line and therefore holds one back. 

Communication is the way Thornton says he resolved his situation. I believe in the power of communication. But with communication can also come disappointment. One has to find the courage to hear even as he finds the steadiness to speak. I recently took a huge step out of my comfort zone and shared, for the first time, my childhood feelings of fear and loneliness with my mom. I shared how afraid I was, how untrusting. I opened that door before I even realized I was turning the knob. I’m in my 40s now, but it’s never too late to start a dialogue. It’s hard for me not to feel as though I’ve wasted a lot of my life living in fear, but I also believe there is truth to the universe presenting things to you when you are ready to accept them. 

Not long ago a friend of mine presented me with the concept of getting my hands dirty. Holding back and not communicating, at least with my mom, was me not getting my hands dirty, not rocking the boat, even at times being a victim. I realize now I was more afraid of being disappointed in her possible answers or responses, than I was afraid of having the conversation. I may never change the mind of someone who believes that homosexuality is wrong, but there is no comfort, no freedom, in living in silence or fear. There’s just avoidance. Even a baby step forward is a step forward. I’m glad mom and I took that step together.

As you might have noticed, that portrait of me that Thornton began drawing with such seemingly definitive strokes veered into Monet territory — recognizable from a distance, fuzzier upon closer examination. There’s still conflict in my life between God and my sexuality. That’s based on deep-rooted religious fears more than anything else. There’s still conflict between my family and my sexuality. That will probably never change, but I know I’m loved. What can change is me. That scared inner child has to grow up and face his fears. I have to be willing to speak…and hear. I have to change my expectations. I have to change my pattern. I have to believe that “just as I am” is good enough.

Education: Our Best Defense Against Ignorance

A version of this piece also appears on Huffington Post Gay voices

Please put your hands together and give a warm welcome to the founder of conservative group Mission America and all around good Christian, Linda Harvey.

Why are we in such a place, friends, where children learn homosexual behavior is noble? That amputating healthy body parts is admirable but the mention of Jesus Christ during a graduation ceremony is controversial? I'll tell you how. It's because not enough of us are calling this lunacy what it is. We need to have a clear idea about what is evil and speak up about it in order to preserve the good. And these actions are pure evil and should be declared child abuse.

The above words, used to speak out again the Gay, Lesbian, and Straight Education Network (GLSEN), stunned me into silence that quickly turned into an angry outburst. No applause for you, Linda Harvey.

Why shouldn't schools include gay-inclusive education, e.g. the Stonewall riots, Harvey Milk? In History class children are educated about war, slavery, the civil rights movement, Nazis, the Holocaust. I'm purposefully pointing out darker moments in history because I feel people like Linda Harvey, who are so against homosexuality, equate us gay people on par with these moments. Why shouldn't a child learn of gay-related issues in school? If knowledge is power, doesn't it take some of the stigma away from homosexuality if children are taught of its existence instead of it being a dirty little secret that is only spoken about in hushed voices like cancer being discussed around the dinner table?

I would have benefited from such a learning environment. Instead I was taught about homosexuality and its "sinful" place in our society by preachers who condemned me to Hell before I even fully understood what I was feeling. Imagine growing up without that fear. Imagine learning in an environment where questions can be asked and a dialogue can be started. I had no one to speak to about what I was feeling.

For those who are convinced that homosexuals are out to recruit children or that children who learn about homosexuality might want to become one of us I say this. I was not recruited. Homosexuality was not promoted to me. On the flip side I'll add, I did not want to become a straight man no matter how much I was taught about human sexuality and reproduction in health class. I grew up around only heterosexual relationships, and I didn't decide one day to be straight. We are who we are and understanding who we are is only going to benefit us not harm us. I so often hear that gay people have an agenda. I think those against gay people have more of an agenda than anyone. Gay people want to be heard and accepted. Those against us want to persecute us and would be happiest if we went back into the closet and left them to live in ignorant bliss in their rose-colored glasses world.

Don't try to convince me that children need protecting from the knowledge that LGBTQ people exist. Some children are scared and trying to understand what they're feeling. I would know. Others are cruel and laugh in the face of those they see as different. I would know that, too. I myself was bullied by a school mate who later in life reached out to me to tell me that he too was gay and so afraid of his feelings that he joined others in name-calling me as a defensive tactic. Interesting. Maybe with the help of forward thinking teachers, like those involved with GLSEN, other children and teens can avoid such situations because they will learn what they're feeling is nothing to be ashamed of. Those not in the position to struggle with the fear of their own feelings have no right to condemn an education practice that will help explain them. All of us want to be understood and accepted.

Below is the mission statement of GLSEN:

The Gay, Lesbian & Straight Education Network strives to assure that each member of every school community is valued and respected regardless of sexual orientation or gender identity/expression. 

We believe that such an atmosphere engenders a positive sense of self, which is the basis of educational achievement and personal growth. Since homophobia and heterosexism undermine a healthy school climate, we work to educate teachers, students and the public at large about the damaging effects these forces have on youth and adults alike. We recognize that forces such as racism and sexism have similarly adverse impacts on communities and we support schools in seeking to redress all such inequities. 

GLSEN seeks to develop school climates where difference is valued for the positive contribution it makes in creating a more vibrant and diverse community. We welcome any and all individuals as members, regardless of sexual orientation, gender identity/expression or occupation, who are committed to seeing this philosophy realized in K-12 schools.

Where's the evil? How is the above mission statement anything but a wonderful commitment to safety, education, and respect for all students?

Often times I believe we are against something because we don't understand it. It doesn't make sense to us. Let me take a moment and say that I recognize how I react when I don't understand something. I lash out and get angry. I feel foolish and embarrassed. I don't want to admit that I don't know the answer, how to solve the problem. Now go with me here, but I'm wondering if people who don't understand homosexuality, people who think it's just dirty sex and perversion, are afraid to admit they don't understand and are lashing out as a way to cover their lack of knowledge.

Maybe some of these people truly feel that they're right and that homosexuality is wrong, but maybe some are just digging in their heels, fighting every step of the way, at learning something new. I don't have the answer, but I know that when I accept that I don't understand something and acknowledge that my reaction is because of that lack of understanding, I feel a lot better about the situation and become much more open to learning. It's much easier to learn something new than to pretend you know everything.

I'm so proud to live in America where we have the freedom to even debate this topic. I'm proud to be a gay American and to witness all the progress gay people have made even in the 20 years since I came out of the closet. There's still a long way to go, but educating people is a step in the right direction. The time for hiding is over. Now is the time to teach. Now is the time to listen. Now is the time to learn. Now is the time for understanding. Now is the time to change your point of view. Now is the time to once again integrate and accept.

The Pot Calling the Kettle Intolerant

This piece originally appeared on HuffPost Gay Voices

Let’s talk about tolerance for a second. I’ll begin with a definition. According to Random House Dictionary, it’s a noun defined as: “a fair, objective, and permissive attitude toward those whose opinions, practices, race, religion, nationality, etc., differ from one's own; freedom from bigotry.”

The verb form of tolerance is “to tolerate.” The adjective form is “tolerant.” I want to now define tolerant. One definition is: “to allow the existence, presence, practice, or act of without prohibition or hindrance; permit.” A second definition is: “to endure without repugnance; put up with.”

The reason for my English lesson of definitions above is because of the following:

Rick Perry, Governor of Texas, says that gay rights activists lack tolerance. That’s interesting. Does that mean we aren’t tolerant? In an article by Nick Wing published in The Huffington Post Mr. Perry is quoted saying, 

“This is a very unsettling time in our nation’s history. These are the days when a person is vilified when they state that they believe fundamentally that marriage is between one man and one woman.” 

We, the LGBTQ community, are fighting for equal rights and because we are very vocal about the desire to have those rights, Mr. Perry thinks we are intolerant. We are loud and proud, here and queer. We’re in your face: loud, proud, here and queer because it’s the only way to get you to see us; hear us; listen to us.

If you feel the LGBTQ community seems not to have a permissive attitude toward your opinion or religious beliefs it may simply be that you have no permissive attitude toward ours, and our push back against you is reflecting your own lack of empathy toward our desire, e.g. the right to marry whom we choose.

Is it fair that just because something has always been one way that we never change our way of thinking about it even if that change might be for the better; might benefit a lot of people?

The headline of the above mentioned article, “Rick Perry Warns Of ‘Unsettling Time In Our Nation’s History,’ Says Gay Rights Activists Lack ‘Tolerance’” caught my attention. I began to read the things Governor Perry said, and I got angry. I then began to read his words aloud to my gay coworkers. He can’t begin to fathom how much the LGBTQ community has had to tolerate; still has to tolerate.

I will not walk with my head down and my eyes averted from those who consider themselves superior beings because they love someone of the opposite sex. I will not let their ignorance of and disgust at how they visualize my sex life deter me from experiencing those feelings of joy and release. I refuse to feel shame about who I am and who I love. I don’t feel like Governor Perry has a permissive attitude toward the LGBTQ community. 

I’m tired of being tolerated. I refuse it. My life as a gay human being, is more than something to be tolerated. Just because I grew up to be a man attracted to another man does not make me any less of a person. I am worth more than something one puts up with or endures.

How many years have members of the LGBTQ community sat back and listened to the condemnation of our lives from the pulpits of churches? Now we get to add the political platform to that mix. How many times do we have to take being called “faggot,” “queer,” and “homo” at school, church, or simply walking down the street? The time for sitting back and taking it is over. We’re tired of it. We want more than toleration. We want more than you enduring your repugnance. We want acceptance. We deserve it as human beings. Don’t act as if I should be grateful that you tolerate me, but please accept my appreciation for your accepting me as a human being--living, breathing, and loving the person of my choice just like you.

In the same HuffPost article, Mr. Perry goes on to say, 

“The underling problem is that there is this very vocal, very litigious minority of Americans willing to legally attack anybody who dares utter a phrase or even a name that they don’t agree with. In a twisting of logic, they insist on silencing the religious in the cause of tolerance. Now I ask you, where is the tolerance in that?” 

I must admit that I have a problem with organized religion and those who hide behind it, and the words of the Bible to stand against something they know nothing about and are too scared to attempt to understand. That said, I have no beef with those who want to practice the religion of their choice. I just don’t agree that one’s religious beliefs should help create a law that prohibits me from marrying the man of my choice should I happen to find him one day. 

If it wasn’t for his disparaging speak against my community I wouldn’t even have Governor Perry on my radar. But the silence of the most vocal doesn’t stay silent for long. Eventually the echo of their voices beep again and you get words like those spoken above. How interesting would it be if the blip that is Governor Perry was suddenly absent because people stopped listening? If a tree falls in the woods and no one is there to hear it does it still make a sound? Yes, but does it matter? The same can be said for the blips on the radar of life that belong to people like Governor Perry. If we stopped listening, the words would still have sound, but they wouldn’t matter.

Perry continued, 

“The people of the state of Texas, myself included, believe marriage is between one man and one woman.” 

I think Governor Perry, and many others along with him, is afraid of change. Maybe even fears it. 

He is, however, allowed his opinion and I’m allowed mine. One is no better than the other, but if he wants to play the tolerance card, the LGBTQ community is having to tolerate a lot of bullshit coming out of his mouth and you know what they say about opinions. He might want to keep a handkerchief in his suit jacket for catching the brown dribble. Better yet, he could carry a roll of toilet paper.