Recently in Gay Issues Category

Fictional story:

The other morning, there was a knock on my door.  A couple in their late twenties stood there with a clipboard, and asked to talk to me about domestic violence.  They showed me some frightening statistics about the number of men and women who are abused and beaten by their spouses.  They had both statistics for the nation and our own county.  They then asked me to help put an end to domestic violence, showing me a petition in support of new legislation that would call for stricter sentencing for those convicted of domestic violence, budget for the creation of programs to better train police officers to respond to and investigate claims of domestic violence, and other measures.

I decided not to sign the petition.  Instead, I decided to hand them a card, that says the following:

I pledge to treat others the way I want to be treated.

I strongly believe that domestic violence is wrong and I would never hurt another person, even my own spouse.  So I'm offering my pledge to the golden rule in response to the issue of domestic violence.

The point:

I suspect that many of my readers are having a rather predictable reaction to the above story.  I can just hear people like Eileen (assuming she still reads me) getting ready to type a lengthy comment about how serious domestic violence and simply promising to treat others well in accordance with the Golden Rule isn't nearly enough.  And I'm in total agreement with her.

I've had the exact same reaction the last two years when Dr. Warren Throckmorton began to propose the Golden Rule Pledge as an appropriate response to The Day Of Silence, an annual event meant to raise awareness of anti-gay bullying and other mistreatment of gay people (or people who are merely perceived as gay) that takes place all over this country and to advocate for such bullying to stop.

Now, in Dr. Throckmorton's defense, I will note that his response to The Day of Silence is far superior to other responses proposed by other conservative Christian groups.  The Golden Rule Pledge is far better than The Day of Truth or merely proposing that all Christians avoid school during The Day of Silence.  And I give him credit for not trying to paint a day dedicated to the idea that it's wrong to bully and mistreat gay people as some horrible, immoral idea.

But in the end, I find it a weak response at best.  It's great that Dr. Throckmorton and those with him are willing to promise to treat others well.  However, I also want to know what they're going to do about the bullying and mistreatment being propagated by others who don't share their commitment to the Golden Rule.  Saying you won't mistreat gay people while still standing by while others do so just doesn't cut it in my book.  In my mind, justice demands that right-minded people stand up to the bullies and say, "What you are doing is wrong and you must stop."  Confronting the injustice head-on is absolutely essential.  And in that respect, I feel the Golden Rule Pledge fails miserably, just as such a pledge in response to domestic violence fails miserably.

I'm going to take a break from analyzing Patrick Strudwick's article about conversion therapy.  I decided that I wanted to take some time to instead address a more personal invitation to the person who found my blog using the following search phrase:

oh god please help me i'm gay and confused iwant to feel loved i can't stand working: i don't.

Hello, dear reader.  I want to take a moment to welcome you to my blog and my greater site.  I'm glad you found me, and I hope you find my writings helpful to you.  To be honest, your search phrase suggests that you need a great deal of compassion, understanding, and encouragement.  I hope that you find some small portion of it here.  After all, it's one of the reasons I write this blog and work on some of my other writing projects.

You see, I have a pretty good idea of the kind of inner turmoil that caused you to type in that search phrase.  I've probably felt the same way, myself.  In fact, I found myself in a pretty dark place when I was first struggling with my sexuality.  So I can tell you that as dark as things may seem, things can get better.  There is light at the end of all that confusion.

Granted, it can be a difficult process getting there, and like any life, yours is bound to have it's sad and painful moments.  But anyone who promises you a life that's devoid of such moments is a con artist.  And I believe that in time, you will find that the beautiful and joyful moments.  And you'll discover more about yourself, and might even be surprised by the strength and other qualities you have inside of yourself.

Most importantly, you'll find that even while confused, you don't have to be alone.  There will always be people you can turn to and talk to.  (You'll even find friends you can turn to in "real life.")  There are other sources of comfort.  Even little chance encounters can be a source of surprise and comfort in their own little ways.  And in time, you'll find that it will help you a lot.

So if you come back and read this, I'd invite you to stick around.  Please explore what I have to say.  Please visit some of the friends' blogs I list in my right sidebar.  You may find many of them quite helpful and inspiring as well.  I know I have.  And if you're really daring, please feel free to contact me.  (There should be a link to email me at the bottom of this post.)  I promise to listen.  I promise to answer any question as honestly as I can, even if that answer is "I don't know."

Again, dear reader, I want to welcome you to my blog.  I hope you find something to help you with your confusion and inner turmoil, even if it's just a moment's respite.

In this post, I continue my examination of Patrick Strudwick's article where he describes his first-hand investigation into the world of conversion therapy.  Just as my last post focused on Patrick's sessions with Lynne, this post will explore the sessions that he had with David.

Patrick starts this section of the article by indicating that he and David are conducting these therapy sessions using Skype and webcams.  Just as I noted the strangeness of Lynn holding a scheduled therapy session over the phone, I find the idea of holding therapy sessions over the Internet to be highly questionable.  Once again, I fin myself wondering how well a therapist can handle a situation from a distance if something particular difficult or traumatic comes up during the session.

David starts the sessions by giving Patrick a highly positive prognosis.  In fact, David indicates that one third of people seeking reparative therapy face complete change, while another third experience significant change (a phrase that is rather vague).  The problem with David's claims here is that there is no evidence to substantiate them.  There are no comprehensive studies on the success rates of conversion therapy.  In fact, the only recent study on the topic doesn't match up to David's claims, despite the fact that some have heavily criticized that study.  So here we have a therapist who is making promise based on claims that are not backed up by evidence.  Again, this is nothing less than playing into a client's insecurities, and is rather unethical.

David then moves into the same talk about both religion and masculinity.  Apparently, conversion therapists are still trapped in this notion that homosexuality and not being "masculine" are somehow inextricably linked.  This demonstrates a lack of understanding of both sexual orientation and masculinity.  Part of David's therapy involves Patrick examining himself in the mirror while affirming and touching his own body.  I find this a very strange practice and don't see any psychological model that would explain how this would affect one's same-sex attractions.

David's approach to conversion therapy is odd in that he asks Patrick to reinterpret all of his actions and feelings.  David suggests that there must be some hidden meaning behind every attraction and emotional experience he has.  He interprets everything as a manifestation of some hidden wound.  Again, I find this a strange practice rather than simply accepting one's feelings and attractions for what they are until a reason to look for another interpretation arises.  I certainly find his idea of "homosexuality as cannibalism" a rather weird notion, and seems to say more about conversion therapists' needs to pathologize something as natural as desire and love.

Like Lynne, David looks to Patrick's relationship with his parents as possible cause for his homosexuality.  Unlike Lynne, David does seem to pay attention to what Patrick says and tries to mold his theories to Patrick's life rather than trying to rewrite the client's history to fit the model.  Particularly, David suggests that Patrick over-identified with his mother due to the fact that he was creative and extroverted like her and under-identification with his father.  David suggests that this pattern led to a lack of masculine identity in Patrick, which he then sought to compensate by latching onto strong men in a sexual relationship.  Again, we find ourselves circling the conversion therapists' inability to separate their notions of masculinity from sexual orientation.  It is perfectly possible for a gay man to be masculine, and I have known more than one heterosexual man who didn't meet such rigid notions of masculinity.  (In fact, such heterosexual men are often the biggest critics of such narrow concepts of masculinity.)
In the next session, Patrick indicates that he's had sexual feelings for David.  David seems rather unphased by this admission.  David -- a self-identified ex-gay himself -- also acknowledges that he still has "echoes" of sexual feelings towards men.  This makes the next part of Patrick's therapy session particularly shocking -- as if what happens next isn't shocking in its own right.

"Close your eyes and focus on that arousal you're feeling down in your genitals," he says. "I want you to hear, as a man, as I look at your body, I see strong shoulders and a strong chest, I see a man who has an attractive body and I want you just to notice the arousal you feel as you hear me talking about that. Imagine an energy and picture that energy as a colour, and make the brightness of the colour relate to the intensity of the sexual feeling, so you might be starting to get a bit of a hard on, you might be starting to feel an erection and that sexual energy, but I want you to just picture that as a coloured light. What colour would it be?"

This kind of talk strikes me as very intimate and sexualized.  It certainly is not the kind of conversation I'd want to be having on a webcam session with my therapist during my second therapy session with him.  And I certainly would not want to be going through this with a therapist who in one breath claims to be "cured" of homosexuality and admits he still has the occasional sexual thoughts about men in the next.  David's entire approach to therapy seems highly sexualized and even voyeuristic.  That alone strikes me as disturbing.

I suppose it comes as little surprise that David reveals that his supervisor is associated in some way with Richard Cohen.  Patrick notes in his article that Cohen was expelled from the American Counseling Association.  He doesn't note that many ex-gay ministries and conversion therapists distanced themselves from Cohen for a while when Cohen's disturbing "holding therapy" got strong media attention.  Cohen's approach to therapy seemed inappropriately sexualized and intimate, so it's unsurprising that other therapists associated with him would have equally problematic practices.

Related articles by Zemanta

• Can Gays 'Spontaneously' Become Straight? Only If Straights Can 'Spontaneously' Become Gay (queerty.com)
• Psychologists Reject Gay 'Therapy' Treatment (sfist.com)
• American Family Association Radio Host Says Imprison Gays (alan.com)

Today, while browsing the latest entries on Box Turtle Bulletin, I ran across a post that examined an Independent article.  The Independent article, written by Patrick Strudwick, discusses reparative therapy.  For the article, Strudwick had therapy sessions with two reparative therapists, Lynne and David.  The bulk of the article describes what he was told in those therapy sessions.

After reading the article, I felt that these therapy sessions deserved careful consideration and analysis.  The things that Strudwick was told by both Lynne and David are very telling about the whole conversion therapy process and the problems it poses.  To that end, I want to take a close look at the therapy sessions with Lynne in this entry.  I hope to do the same with the sessions with David in a future entry.

Lynne starts out the first therapy session by affirming that she believes homosexuality to be a mental illness, an addiction, and an anti-religion phenomenon.  Bear in mind that the first two classifications are in direct contradiction to the position of every psychological and psychotherapy association out there (with the exception of NARTH, which was created specifically to peddle the notion that homosexuality is a mental illness) and all peer-reviewed research.  This is important, because Lynne and other conversion therapists are already on shaky ground because they are seeking to treat something which doesn't apparently need to be treated.  However, such therapists rely on the fact that their clients (or worse, their clients' families) are willing to believe their sexual orientation is an illness in need of correcting.  In effect, they are playing off of their clients' own insecurities to sell an unnecessary (let alone ineffective) therapy.  This willing to play to their clients' insecurities is highly unethical, and will play a bigger part in these therapies as we consider Lynne's investigation into the "causes" of Patrick's homosexuality.

Lynne then opens the session with prayer, the first sign that her therapy is going to be intermingled with a lot of religious material.  This is evident when she asks Patrick if he is lustful about his same-sex attractions.  That word gets thown around a lot in conservative religious circles, and I tend to think it's abused.  Truth be told, there should be a certain amount of sexual desire in any romantic relationship.  However, things get worse when Patrick also points out that he also felt what he considered sincere love in some of his relationships.  Lynne dismisses this out of love, referring to it as "darkness."  The conversion therapist's willingness to discount any feeling simply because it doesn't fit their model is unconscionable.

As is common among conversion therapists, Lynne starts asking about Patrick's family.  Those familiar with the theories of Joseph Nicolosi will recognize that Lynne is trying to establish the distant father and overbearing mother that is so often given as a major cause of homosexuality.  (I've always found this theory silly, since I have yet to meet any teenager who doesn't consider his mother overbearing at one time or another.)  Patrick indicates that he had a loving family life.  However, Lynne is not willing to let this particular theory go yet:

"Well, there was something happening within your family dynamics that led to your depression," she says.

The depression that Lynne is referring to is the depression that Patrick indicated that he was depressed as a teenager.  What is notable about this, however, is that Patrick already stated the reason for this depression:

I tell her that I was depressed as a teenager because I feared I would face prejudice for the rest of my life.

Fearing that one will face prejudice for the rest of one's life is a perfectly legitimate reason to be depressed.  However, Lynne discounts Patrick's explanation for his depression and inserts her own, based on nothing more than her desire to make Patrick's psychological profile fit her predefined notions about how homosexuality forms.  This is questionable at best and downright unethical at worst.  Again, bear in mind that most of Lynne's patients are coming to her in an emotionally vulnerable state.  By disregarding the explanations they give her and inserting her own, she is pushing her own theories and views on them.  In effect, she has ceased to be a therapist at all, but has become something much uglier.  This desire to push her clients in the direction her theories say they should go will appear uglier later on.

After exploring rather curious theories about difficult births, neonatal intensive care, and the "spiritual effects" of Freemasonry (I'd love to see an attempt at peer-reviewed research on that last one!), Lynne begins asking about sexual abuse.  Patrick indicates that he's never been abused.  Once again, Lynne is unwilling to accept Patrick's analysis of his own life:

"I think it will be there," she replies, dropping her voice to a concerned tone. "It does need to come to the surface."

And so, she prays for me again. "Father, we give you permission to bring to the surface some of the things that have happened over the years. Father, enable your love to pour into that place of isolation in that little boy, whatever age, we give you permission to go there, with your healing power and your light, go into those parts, open all the doors, and access each one with your light."

She looks up. I ask her again about this abuse. "I think there is something there," she says. "You've allowed things to be done to u." In the next session I ask if she thinks the abuse would have taken place within my family, because I can't remember it. "Yes, very likely," she replies.

Once again, the therapist is trying to force her client to fit some predefined model rather than observing the real life story he presents and analyzing it honestly.  And this is where her clients' emotional vulnerability come in.  By pushing this idea that her client must have been abused, she is setting up the perfect situation for creating false memories.  False memories have ruined lives -- both the lives of the supposed abusers and those of the victims.  False memories also end up hurting those who really have experienced abuse and have forgotten or repressed, as it makes professionals more cautious about accepting even valid recovered memories.  In short, Lynne is hurting a huge number of people simply for the sake of making a client's history fit her preconceived notions of what it should look like.

Patrick indicates that his next session with Lynne is over the phone.  This single sentence makes my head spin.  While I can certainly understand why a therapist might need to deal with an unexpected crisis with a client over the phone, I cannot imagine holding a planned therapy session over the phone.  It strikes me as inefficient, and potentially risky.  If any powerful or troubling emotions arise, Lynne is not present to handle the situation.  It seems to me that it would make more sense to postpone or reschedule the session to a time when it can be held face-to-face.  The fact that Lynne chose not to do so leads me to wonder if Lynne is the kind of person who puts conferences and lectures over the well-being of her clients.  If so, then I hope someone will encourage her to leave clinical practice.

Lynne's first two suggestions during this session is that Patrick should (1) distance himself from his gay friends and (2) take up a sport, possibly rugby.  First, I find it strange that any therapist would presume to have the kind of authority to make such suggestions.  I understand that being critical of a clients' friendships and other relationships is not uncommon, especially if the relationships and friendships are unhealthy or promote unhealthy behavior.  However, it's also my understanding that a therapist generally points out how they're unhealthy and/or promote unhealthy behavior and then allows the client to make their own choice.  To actually suggest a course of action like Lynne has strikes me as assuming too much control.

Of course, there's also the fact that it's questionable whether Patrick's gay friends are promoting unhealthy behavior.  Nothing in the article suggests that Patrick has given Lynne any reason to believe such a thing.  It again strikes me as Lynne making assumptions rather than analyzing the person and relationships at hand.

The suggestion about taking up a sport always makes me laugh.  Conversion therapists seem to have strange beliefs about the relationship between homosexuality and masculine stereotypes.  Truth be told, they're two different subjects.  Locally, we have a large number of gay men who are into volleyball and other sports.  Many gay men are into body-building and other "masculine" activities.  Others of us don't care for such activities, but it has nothing to do with our sexual orientation.

Lynne's idea of therapy involves trying to force her client's life stories into her preconceived models, throwing out a lot of religious jargon, and playing with irrelevant notions of masculinity and sexuality.  And she's doing this with emotionally vulnerable clients.  And we're supposed to consider this valid therapy?

Related articles by Zemanta

• "Mental health professionals should avoid telling clients that they can change their sexual orientation" (americablog.com)
• "Go Straight" Programs Don't Work For Gays, Psychologists Say (inquisitr.com)
• Gay man says 'reversal' therapy did not change him (seattletimes.nwsource.com)
• APA Repudiates Gay-to-Straight Therapy (delawarewatch.blogspot.com)

I'm a fan of movies that deal with a gay guy who is struggling to come to terms with his sexuality.  There's just something touching and nostalgic about watching the main character discover his feelings for another man and begin to sort through the emotional obstacle course made up of love, desire, fear, doubt, and guilt.

One such movie that stands out in my mind is Shelter, the 2007 movie about a young man, Zach, living in California.  Where Shelter differs from other great coming out movies, like Latter Days and Rock Haven, is that Zach's major conflict isn't so much about his religion, but his family.

Zach lives with his older sister, her live-in boyfriend (at least I don't get the impression their married) and his five year old nephew.  Zach works at odd jobs to help support his sister and little Cody, who sees his uncle as a major father figure.  Zach's life begins to change when is best friend's older brother, Shaun, comes to town for an extended stay.  Zach and Shaun fall in love, and quickly finds his desire to be with Shaun quickly coming into conflict with his family obligations.  His sister, Jeanne, is concerned about her son being around all that "gay stuff" and doesn't think it's healthy environment.  (Strangely, Jeanne isn't all that concerned that her live-in boyfriend is asking her to go to Oregon for six months and leave Cody behind.) Despite Shaun's undying adoration of Cody and his willingness to make Cody a part of any plans he and Zach might have, the family conflict leads to problems in the couple's budding relationship.

In addition to the conflict between love and obligations to a family that doesn't approve of gay relationships, this film weaves in the extra dimensions of different family backgrounds.  While Zach and his sister have lived a difficult life with plenty of hard luck and few breaks, Shaun comes from a well-to-do family.  This difference leads to differences in perspective and different approaches to their problems, adding to the conflict.

All of these elements are handled well, or at least as well as they can be in a 97 minute movie.  It makes for a touching and heartfelt story, and one that I could personally identify with on many levels.

Misty Irons reposted the "gay lifestyle" of the (In)Famous SMT.  After reading both her post and his original, I decided I wanted to make a similar post and offer some commentary on the underlying topic.

So an average weekday looks like this for me:

7:00am:  The first alarm goes off.  I hit the off button.
7:30am:  The second alarm goes off.  I hit the off button.
8:00am:  The third alarm goes off.  I hit the snooze button.  I keep hitting it each time it goes off.
8:30am:  The third alarm won't let me hit the snooze button any more.  I turn it off and get up.
8:35am:  I wash up and get dressed.
8:45am:  I check email, visit my social networking sites, and read my favorite blogs.
9:20am:  I hop in the car and head to work, stopping at the 7-Eleven to grab something to eat and something for lunch.
10:00am:  I arrive at work.  I spend the next eight hours attending meetings, writing code, answering emails, and fielding the occasional technical question for the sales team.
6:30pm:  I leave work.  If it's open, I run to Psychic's Thyme and hang out with friends for a bit.
7:00pm:  Dinner time.
8:00pm:  If I'm curently dating someone, I ask my boyfriend if he's free.  If so, we get together, watch a movie, talk, make love, and cuddle.  If I'm very lucky, we spend the night sleeping in each others arms.
8:00pm:  If I'm single or my boyfriend is busy, I check email, respond to any outstanding ones, read blogs, do some blogging of my own, and/or or work on my writing.

In my life, there's no such thing as a typical weekend.  I may go see my parents for the weekend.  Or I might head up to Toronto for a dance class and a show with Marina for Saturday.  Or I might go back to Psychic's Thyme to hang out with friends.  I may go to dinner with friends.  I may go dancing Saturday night.  If I'm dating someone, I may spend time with my boyfriend (going to a movie, staying home and cuddling, making love, talking, going to a party together, whatever).  Trying to fit that into a single "daily schedule" would be impossible.  There's just too many possibilities.

What inspired me to write this, however, is that I've notice something about many "gay lifestyle" posts:  most of them say absolutely nothing about sex.  In many cases, that's perfectly understandable.  There are a lot of gay people out there who are not sexually active for one reason or another.  They may simply be too busy right now for a sexual relationship.  Or they may be waiting for that one special someone they want to spend their lives with.  I totally get that and respect that.

What I don't get or respect, however, is the underlying message (or so it seems to me) that the only way to prove that all gay men spend their weekends at the bathhouse or bring home a different guy every night is to show that we're not having sex at all, or at least hiding the fact that we're having it.  I'm sorry, but "total celibacy" and "having 100 sex partners every year" are not the only two possibilities.

In many ways, I'm reminded of the first American Pie movie.  I loved that movie because it was a great commentary on the pressure (heterosexual) guys feel about having sex in their teen years and how it can become an obsession.  The other thing I like about that movie is that the way the "quest to lose their virginity" ends differently for the various main characters.  Two of them end up having what basically amount to random hookups (though the one ends up falling in love with his partner and marrying her in future movies).  One ends up having sex with his long-term girlfriend (who breaks up with him in the next movie).  And the fourth ends up in a relationship and he and his new girlfriend decide to put off having sex for a while longer.  The movie ends up demonstrating a diversity of responses to human sexuality.

I think we need more of that in the gay community and how we present ourselves to the outside world.  We need to get rid of the "celibacy/promiscuity" dichotomy altogether.  There's a far more complex range of choices when it comes to human sexuality and human sexual behavior, and I think we need to start demanding that our detractors acknowledge that in our own communities.

I won't pretend I'm a sexual prude in order to get acceptance.  But that doesn't mean I'm totally devoid of a sexual ethic or standards, either.

The following is from the first chapter of a new story I'm working on:

Josh awoke with a start. He let out a strangled gasp before his mind began to process his surroundings. He looked round, finding himself in his own bedroom. His sheets were pushed off to one side, probably due to him moving around in his sleep. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself. He willed his heart to return to a slower rhythm. "It was only a dream. Only a dream," he whispered. "It doesn't mean anything. Guys dream about all kinds of things."

He knew that was true enough. He had done a bit of research online, and found that a lot of young guys dreamed about having sex with other guys and still grew up to be heterosexual. He'd even read that some experiment with male friends before going on to get married. So he tried to reassure himself that this one dream didn't mean he was one of those terrible homosexuals.

However, his mind kept nagging at him. This wasn't just one dream, after all. He had been having a few dreams like this since he turned fourteen nine months ago. He wondered if there was a point where it quit being something any normal teenager might experience and starting being the sign of something more serious.

"And it's not just the dreams," he whispered to himself as he lay there, confused and frightened. "After all, I've been getting those feelings when I'm awake too." He thought back to that afternoon he and Tim went skinny-dipping. While it had been innocent fun when they had actually gone swimming at age eleven, it morphed into something more sinister-seeming whenever he thought of it now. Tim had even suggested they go skinny dipping again this past summer. But the thoughts and feelings it stirred in Josh kept him coming up with excuses to put off such an excursion.

Josh lay there, feeling more miserable the more he thought about everything. He wondered how his parents, who raised him to be a good little Baptist boy, would react if he told them he was attracted to other guys. He wondered if they would send him to counseling or even disown him. He was too afraid to find out.

And yet, he yearned to tell someone, anyone. He hated having to keep this secret. It felt like a terrible burden - a burden he didn't want - to carry alone. And yet, he didn't know anyone he could tell. He was pretty sure everyone he knew would react badly.

"No, you're on your own on this one. Just try to make the best of it," he told himself. Then he added in a quick prayer, "God, please help me. And forgive me. I don't want to be gay. I want to do what you want me to." He rolled over and waited for sleep to claim him again, to give him a break from all his worries and doubts.

If you like it, please read the rest of the chapter and follow the story using the links above.  I hope to write more soon.  And of course, feel free to check out the rest of my portfolio on Writing.Com.  Though I'll warn you that some of the other stories are sexually explicit.

Well, I thought it was rather humorous.  Thanks to Shivian for pointing it out via Twitter.

I've been reading a lot of blogs the past few days, and the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America have been a major topic of discussion.  This is because the ELCA has been holding their Church-Wide Assembly this week, and the church's response to GLBT people in various circumstances has been a huge topic of conversation.  They've voted on a statement on Human Sexuality (of which GLBT issues is only a small portion), a policy of allowing local congregations to minister to GLBT people in accordance with their own conscience, and a policy allowing the ordination of GLBT clergy in monogamous, lifelong patnerships.

It's this last policy that I'd like to talk about briefly.  Although I am no longer a Christian and don't foresee returning to that faith (and if I did, I'd be more inclined to join the Orthodox church anyway), it's something that in some ways is near and dear to me.  As someone who loves to help and serve others, it pleases me to see new opportunities being provided to GLBT to help and serve others.  And as someone who once felt called to ministry, I admit some pleasure in knowing that such an opportunity has come in my lifetime, even if I no longer plan to take it.

As I've read various people express both their joys and their concerns about this decision in the ELCA, I began to consider my own time of serving in my old (American Baptist) church back home.  While I was not an ordained minister, I spent time as a Sunday school teacher, the leader of the youth group, and even the superintendent of the children's Sunday school program.  (I also did speak from the pulpit as a lay leader a handful of times.)

I came out to myself as a gay man towards the end of my senior year in college.  When I graduated and returned home, I also returned to my small rural church an quickly found myself pulled back into leadership.  I almost immediate took over the Sunday school class for grades 7-12 as well as the youth group.  That summer, I also co-led our church's Vacation Bible School program.  A few months after that, my aunt stepped down as superintendent of the children's Sunday school program and I was asked to take over.

At the time, no one in my church (with the possible exception of a couple of family members) knew that I was gay.  To be honest, I'm not sure how the other members of the church would've reacted if they knew, and I was too afraid at the time to find out.  So I kept my sexuality a secret and focused on doing my duties as a leader in the church.  And I suffered in silence.

Yes, I suffered.  Those first few months to a couple of years after you come out to yourself can be quite difficult emotionally.  You find yourself sorting through a lot of feelings and trying to understand what it means to be gay and all the implications it has for your life.  So here I was trying to act as a leader in my church and deal with my own problems, and I was afraid to turn to any of the other church leaders to seek help during this time of my life.

At one point, I began having trouble upholding my responsibilities as a church leader began to sag due to the issues I was trying to work through.  (And things got even worse the few months before I finally left the church -- as I had also begun to add in the complications that come with one's first real relationship.)  I started to procrastinate and forgot to do certain things.  A few of the other leaders began to get upset, especially as they relied on me for certain things and I let them down on more than one occasion.  And I was frustrated because they never once asked what was going on with me or why I was becoming less dependable.  But to make matters worse, even if they had asked me what was wrong, I doubt I would've had the courage to tell them.  I just wasn't comfortable.

As I think of my experiences, I think of the ELCA's decison with some pleasure, knowing that at least some GLBT people who wish to serve in a Christian community will now be able to do so openly.  And this means that they will be able to get the support I felt was denied to me back when I was serving as I felt called.  And that is something that pleases me greatly.

Now that it's past, I thought it would be good to do a review of yesterday's synchroblog event.  It was an excellent experience and overall, I felt it went quite well.  Wendy and her sponsors did a fantastic job putting it all together and the participants wrote some wonderful posts, some of which I will highlight in a moment.

The one thing I was somewhat disappointed in was the fact that despite the efforts of a couple of us (including Wendy), the event seemed primarily geared towards Christians.  As far as I know, Christine Bakke, YewTree, and I were the only three non-Christians who participated.  This is probably due to a number of reasons.  For one, those who sponsored this event were Christian and therefore had the most Christian contacts.  Then there's also the fact that it's much harder to convince a non-Christian to participate in an event to encourage Christians and gay people to talk to one another.  On the whole, we non-Christians probably don't see as big a need for such conversation.

More troubling, however, is that I did feel there was a certain undercurrent even among many of the participating bloggers that this was about gay and straight Christians talking with each other.  I saw more than one post in which the sentiment seemed to be that the foundation for such conversation was the fact that those involved were all "brothers and sisters in Christ."  While this is a fine sentiment and I'm glad that some people were able to find that common ground, that doesn't extend the conversation to the rest of the gay community -- those of us who don't consider ourselves "brothers and sisters in Christ."  So perhaps it may be a while longer before the entire gay community will find a welcome in the greater community.

Having said that, I wish to be clear that I don't mean to be too critical because of this.  I think that this synchroblog was a great next step in the overall dialogue process.  And I have confidence that even my concerns can be addressed as that dialogue continues.  I think we all just need to keep plugging away with patience, compassion, and a bit of understanding.

One of my favorite posts was over at Focused Conversations, which demonstrated a deep and practical understanding of the Golden Rule.  Sandy tells of her own wedding and the people who supported her and helped her with her wedding, despite the fact that they felt she was making a bad choice.  In retelling that story, she comes to a conclusion which she applies to same sex marriages:

I understand the desire to declare your commitment to your loved one in a formal ceremony. Whether or not I think it is the right thing doesn't take away from that. As a Christian I live with that tension.

It sometimes takes a special person to realize how her own situation at one time mirrored that of another person's and to place herself in that person's shoes.  Sandy's willingness to be such a person spoke a lot to me.

Over at Based on a True Story, Nathan takes a similar approach and draws parallels between his own relationship with his wife and same-sex relationships:

My relationship with my wife runs very deep and there are plenty of factors that play into it. If my relationship was all about sex, it would not be much of a relationship. We know though, that a part of marriage and relationships runs a lot deeper than just what happens with our bodies. One of the more beautiful parts of a marriage is the commitment and covenant to each other no matter what life brings. We should be affirming and blessing mutual covenants of love between any person and not denying them of a basic human need. We need to focus on what we affirm rather than what we want to get rid of. Why are we so bent on taking away all the good in a relationship? Is it just to prove our theology? Is it just to satisfy our own desires for holiness to be met around us?

In doing so, Nathan actually attacks one of the most damaging stereotypes about gay people:  The idea that our relationships are just about sex.  Nathan's willingness to challenge that stereotype and then ask very hard questions about the implication of opposing relationships that clearly have a lot of good in them is superb.

Of course, not everything was perfect.  Despite some great posts, there was the occasional argument in some comments.  Some people wanted to argue over what constituted compromise or capitulation, while others wanted to discuss who (usually the other side) needed to do what in order for their to be dialogue.  Some even questioned if dialogue is possible in the end.  But that's okay.  This conversation is long overdue and it's the kind of conversation that is never going to go perfectly smoothly.  And that's okay.  The important thing is that people are still talking.  Hopefully, that will remain the case.

And hopefully, people will continue to listen.

(This post is part of the Bridging the Gap Synchroblog which I mentioned previously.  I'd encourage all readers to check out other participants' contributions to this event.  Links to appropriate blogs can be found at the BTG blog.)

Almost a decade ago, I joined a Telnet-based BBS(1) called Jungle.  It was hosted on the campus of Olivet Nazarene University in Illinois, though the BBS itself and the machine that ran it was privately owned.  I first created my account at Jungle when I was still a Christian, but after I came out as a gay man.  I made a lot of friends there (a few of which I still have some contact with), and had a rather positive experience as part of that online community -- a state of affairs that continued even after I embraced other gods.

Although my experience with Jungle BBS was mostly positive, there were the negative experiences, too.  I had -- and started -- my share of arguments and tense moments there.  I particularly remember a lot of arguments with one particular user, a young man (in his late teens, if memory serves) who went by the username Thyle on the site.  Almost every time Thyle saw me online, he'd send me an express message(2) and engage me in the same old debate.  He'd spend the rest of his time online trying to convince me why homosexuality was a sin and why I should try to become straight.  The arguments were endless and repetitive, and I can't remember how many times we rehashed that same conversation over those early months.

One evening, when he sent me a message to initiate the same old routine, I decided that I wasn't in the mood for it.  As I sat there for a moment, I decided that our conversation was going to be different that night.  I decided we were going to talk about something else.  So I started steering the conversation in various directions, such as what I had done earlier that day.  I also asked him about his day and various other questions.  As a result, we had a twenty minute conversation that night that was completely debate-free and even a little pleasant, if somewhat forced.  The conversation ended when Thyle said he needed to go and we exchanged pleasant goodbyes.

I can't remember if Thyle and I ever talked after that evening.  If we did, it was only a few times.  Effectively, after that night, our debates came to an end.  Unfortunately, we never really developed a friendship, either.  I have no idea what happened to Thyle or where he is.  I hope he is well.  But I learned a lot from Thyle and that one evening we had a non-debating conversation.  I learned that it takes two people to debate, but often only takes one person to redirect the conversation away from that debate.

I think that often, we like to think of the constant debates as being at least mostly the fault of the other person in the debate.  We like to tell ourselves that if only they'd stop -- or come to agree with us -- the debates could finally end.  The truth is, however, that the debates could often end simply if we choose not to engage in them.  Granted, that might mean swallowing our pride and even letting it seem like the other person "won" because we're choosing to bow out.  But I personally think that there are times when getting past the debate is far more important than "winning" it.  Because what comes after the debate can often be far more interesting and rewarding.

I'd say that's one of the biggest challenges to dialogue in general and the dialogue between (Side B) Christians and gay people in particular.  Too often, we allow the debate to consume the dialogue, choking out everything else that matters -- including those things that may be more important.  My experience with Thyle that one evening gave me a glimpse of that reality.  It let me know that there's more for gay people and Christians to talk about than whether homosexuality is a sin.  And I think it's important to have those conversations.

Truth be told, like most people, we probably have a lot more in common than we have differences.  Finding, acknowledging, and embracing that common ground is an essential part of dialogue.  I allows us to see each other as more than debate partners.  It allows us to become if not friends, friendly acquaintances.

This isn't to say that there's no room for debate, or that we should avoid those hard questions and tense moments.  Instead, we simply need to move away from the current model where they take center stage and push everything out into the wings -- or out of existence altogether.  When we force the debates and disagreements to take a more appropriate place amidst all the positive interactions a group of people can have, there is room for a beautiful picture to emerge and develop over time.

It's my hope to help make that a reality.

Notes:

(1)  I suspect that these terms might be complete gibberish to some of my readers, especially those who came to the Internet and computing after the World Wide Web all but replaced Telnet, Gopher, FTP, and other services as the preferred method of communicating and getting information on the Internet.  To put it simply, Telnet-based BBS's (and their own predecessors, dial-up BBS's) were the precursor to message forums.  Instead of using a web page and clicking links and filling in forms, BBS's used a simple terminal interface with a menuing system.  You'd press keyboard keys to tell it what you wanted to do and it would respond with the appropriate information and prompts.

(2)  Think of it as a type of instant message within the BBS system Jungle used.

For the past month or two, I've been following the Bridging the Gap blog.  I've also been publicly commenting there and privately conversing with Wendy Gritter, the woman primarily behind the blog.  Wendy is a wonderful woman and I've been blessed with her friendship.

A while back, Wendy told me about a synchroblog that New Direction and the BTG Project are sponsoring on June 24.  The press release for the event describes the event as follows:

New Direction has been seeking to foster safe and generous space for authentic conversation about faith and sexuality. We have committed ourselves to building bridges. But we cannot do it alone. We need other Christ-followers: gay and straight and everything in between, to speak up and join the conversation, to share the heart of the gospel in the midst of this conflict. We need those beyond the walls of the church: gay and straight and everything in between, to speak up and join the conversation, to share their thoughts on how the church can reach across the divide and build bridges.

In light of her desire to get people of all walks of life to join in the conversation, Wendy has asked me to participate in this synchroblog.  As a friend and someone who believes that this dialogue is an important one, I have graciously (at least I hope I've been gracious about it) accepted her invitation.  I would like to invite any of my other readers -- regardless of sexual orientation or religious persuasion -- to also participate in this event.  It's only through the addition of a multitude of voices that a real dialogue -- or rather a harmony of related dialogues -- can emerge.

Some may wonder why I would choose to participate in such a dialogue or encourage others to do so.  After all, they reason, it's clear why Christians would wish to engage in this dialogue in order to gain converts -- though I personally do not believe that's the only reason Christians choose to enter into this dialogue.  But what possible reason could a non-Christian -- especially one who has been hurt by Christians in the past -- have for entering into such a dialogue?  What do I hope to gain from it?

Surprisingly, the question contains its own answer.  I choose to participate in this conversation because I've been hurt by Christians in the past.  To me, reconciliation is an important part of the healing process.  Conversing with Christians -- even Christians who theology and sexual ethics differ greatly for my own -- gives me another opportunity to make peace with my past.  It gives me the chance to realize that while I've been hurt in the past, other Christians really are decent and loving.  It also allows me to regain the love and dignity that was stolen from me by those past experiences.

Participating in such a dialogue also gives me the opportunity to tell my story and serve as a representative for all those others who still might be hurt by some Christians.  It enables me to raise some Christians' awareness of just how little it takes to create great pain for young people struggling with a sexual orientation that their friends, family, and church says is bad.  If offering my story will help one Christian better reach out to and support another gay person when they desperately need it, then my participation in this dialogue is well worth it.

I also wish to participate in such a dialogue because that gay person sitting in the pew may need to hear my voice and know my story.  Sadly, far too many Christians have a very stereotypical understanding of gay people.  Too often, being gay is equated with having multiple sexual partners, abusing drugs and alcohol, and engaging in several other destructive behaviors.  And while I do not deny that some gay people do engage in these and other behaviors, it is not as universal as some Christians might believe or pretend that it is.  As a well-adjusted -- in my opinion at least -- gay man with relatively healthy sexual ethics, my participation in dialogue with Christians serves as an opportunity to demonstrate first-hand that gay men like me exist.  Coming to the table provided by folks like Wendy provides me with an opportunity to demonstrate to conflicted gay Christians with evidence that they have more choices than the dismal options that others have painted for them.  (And I admit that I admire the integrity, confidence, and grace of people like Wendy who are willing to give me that opportunity despite their own desire to see people make a different choice than the one I have in regards to sexuality.)

Finally, I choose to participate in such a dialogue because in the end, it is in my best interests to do so.  To be honest, there are many Christians -- including Christians who believe that people should not get involved in same-sex romantic relationships -- that are in my life.  These people are my friends, my coworkers, and my family members.  They are not going to change their beliefs any time soon, nor are they going to disappear from my life anytime soon.  So I can either choose to live a life where we are distant from one another and suspicious of each other.  Or I can choose to enter into dialogue in an attempt to find mutual understanding and a better sense of peace despite our differences.

To me, the choice is obvious.

(The images in this post were provided by Wendy Gritter and used with her express permission.)

Through Benton Quest, I found out about the yearly efforts of Kelly Stern to spread a bit of pride on the blogosphere during Gay Pride Month. In addition to supplying his yearly picture, Kelly has also asked everyone to post a story -- their coming out story being the most obvious choice -- with the image. As I have an entire subdomain dedicated to my journey to sexual acceptance (And I hope to update it in the next couple months), I won't reproduce my coming out story here.

Instead, I'd like to take this moment to talk about why my coming out story matters to me and the implications that my coming out has had for the rest of my life. You see, to my mind, my coming out represented the beginning of a much larger process, my journey to freedom and self-discovery.

Before coming out, I was trapped in a certain self-image, one built on ideas of who I was supposed to be, how I was supposed to behave, and how I was supposed to interact with the world around me. I had accepted others' (and many people were part of that group) expectations and limitations, and tried to fit the mold set out for me.

Coming out as gay was the first step I took in breaking and rejecting that mold. It was the first time where I said, "No, this is not who I am." And in that moment, I was able to ask the frightening, yet liberating question that followed, "Then who am I?"

At that moment, the journey to answer that question began, because I gave myself permission to seek that answer, no matter what. It started out slow and certainly was rocky at times. Indeed, there were more than a few times when I looked back at that broken mold that I hadn't entirely discarded and worried that I was drifting too far from who I should be. But as time went by, I realized that I needed to let myself discover who I was and not worry so much about who I should be.

Years later, I'm still working on answering that question. But as time goes by, I'm finding that I like the answer I have so far more and more. And in that, I have found increasing freedom.

My good buddy Tina brought this wonderful little gem (published in her local) paper to my attention. I don't normally fisk, but this opportunity just seemed too good to pass up:

Several weeks ago, Athens and some other schools in this area celebrated a DOS day.
The correct meaning of this term is "Day of Sodomy."

You know, if someone is going to resort to juvenile name calling, I wish for just once they'd come up with something new. Does this person really think we haven't heard that "Day of Sodomy" slur about a thousand times before?

I called the administration to protest before April 25, but they were closed.

Really? The school opened for the very first time ever on April 25? Or do they mean they tried calling once only to discover they were closed and were too lazy to try again during normal hours?

The day was to be a day of silence to support those who practice gross sexual deviance.

Actually the Day of Silence is meant to raise awareness of how gay students (or even straight students who are perceived to be gay) are harassed, ridiculed, and even bullied. It's a way to remind how these students are silenced (and often suffer in their silence). It's a way to say, "no more mistreatment!" The problem is, people like our opinion-writer here cannot be honest about this fact. If they admitted what they were really protesting here (the radical notion that kids shouldn't be bullied for being gay), more people would realize just what monsters they are.

Ignoring what God calls an abomination, all prior civilizations have considered these acts despicable.

This person needs to do far more research into this subject. There's plenty of evidence to challenge the veracity of the "all prior civilizations" claim.

What sodomites (gays) have to be proud of is questionable.

I survived hateful comments directed at me from people like this author. I managed to reject a mountain of cultural conditioning that tried to convince me that I'm somehow "less than" and horrible simply because I'm attracted to and fall in love with men rather than women. I managed to become the stable, strong, and wonderful person I am despite all of these challenges. If the author finds these reasons for my pride "questionable," then I'm inclined to find his ability to reason -- or empathize with his fellow human beings -- equally questionable.

They cannot reproduce naturally but must recruit.

Actually, it's my experience that the ultraconservative Christians are the ones who recruit. I mean, there the ones with parochial schools, Vacation Bible Schools, Sunday Schools, and all kinds of other programs specifically developed to target children and youth. In fact, they encourage their own children and youth to participate in this recruitment process, often using guilt trips and other forms of manipulation. At best, this claim is a matter of the pot calling the kettle black. At worst (and this is far more likely), this claim is simply a matter of psychological projection.

It requires an active decision on the part of a person to become one.

I have yet to meet anyone who woke up one day and decided to be attracted to members of their own sex. I have yet to meet anyone who woke up one day and decided to be attracted to members of the other sex, for that matter. There's simply no evidence for this claim. And even the ex-gay industry shies away from such a ridiculous notion.

Empirically, sodomites have a shorter life span,

Ah yes, good old Paul Cameron and his "longevity study." The problem is, that study (and Paul Cameron) has been thoroughly discredited since it came out.

gave us AIDS,

Erm, a gay person can't give you AIDS unless you have sex with them. ;)

provided most of our non-governmental mass murders, our last known U.S. cannibal and probably most pedophiles.

This is a tiresome old dirty trick called "guilt by association." The fact that the author would even use it demonstrates just how little substance the original argument has. In fact, I'm surprised the author didn't take this tactic to its logical conclusion, which would've enabled me to invoke Godwin's law.

Name one thing a sodomite has done that is good that was done solely because the person was a sodomite.

Actually, I'd argue that the struggles I've faced as a gay man have made me a stronger and more compassionate man. That compassion has led me to help and touch the lives of many people.

But let's face it, this whole "solely because the person was a sodomite" caveat is an admission that the author can only hope to make his point if he narrowly defines his challenge. He knows that gay people have made positive contributions, so he has to try to force people to limit their lists to contributions directly linked to their gayness.

The problem is, he's raising a double standard here. After all, when he listed the social ills (you know, all that crap about pedophiles and mass murderers), he didn't limit himself to the social ills directly related to gay people's gayness. He just listed whatever he could think of that any gay person has done. Who cares that Jeffrey Dahmer was a messed up sick fuck? All that matters is that he was gay, so bigots like this author can use the horrible things Dahmer did to defame all gay people. But no, those of us on the pro side are suddenly expected to stick to things that are directly related to sexual orientation.

The whole thing reminds me of those situations where two children are playing a made up game, and the one child keeps rewriting the rules as the game progresses just to make sure he wins.

While is it legal for the sodomites to have a school sponsored "un-gay" club,

I will give credit to the author for being one of the few anti-gay bigots who seems to recognize the constitutionality of allowing GSA's in school.

the school district does not have the right to enforce a schoolwide celebration of this disgusting practice.

No school district "enforced" a schoolwide celebration during the Day of Silence. the DoS is not run by teachers or administrators. It's an event that involves voluntary participation of individual students. Indeed, it's usually the students that request to participate.

All school faculties do is make allowances for students' participation. They make sure that no participating students are harassed or bullied because of their participation. They might even make adjustments to the day's activities to allow for some students' participation, such as revising lesson plans so as not to call on a student who is remaining students. (As an aside, both GLSEN and the ACLU have made it clear that a participating student must break their silence and respond if a teacher asks a question or calls on them during class time.)

Why do the Athens schools and presumably the staff and teachers push sodomy as an acceptable lifestyle?

They don't. They push the radical notion that no students deserve to be harassed, bullied, or otherwise mistreated, even if they're gay. Why does the author have a problem with such an idea?

Why should we continue to support this system that "teaches our future" to be our destruction?

Because we tried letting the author's beloved religious institutions try running the show for several centuries. The results were even worse.

Tolerance can reach the point of being intolerable. Perhaps Athens voters need to turn out the current school board and superintendent for their lack of morals and backbone.

Perhaps the town could instead ostracize and shun this author for thinking that protecting gay kids from mistreatment is somehow "immoral."

Recently, a principal in South Carolina recently announced he was resigning over the establishment of a GSA at his school. His reasoning (thanks to BlackTsunami for the quote) is as follows:

"The formation of this club conflicts with my professional beliefs in that we do not have other clubs at Irmo High school based on sexual orientation, sexual preference, or sexual activity. In fact our sex education curriculum is abstinence based. [JH comments: I'll try to leave aside the question of how saying "don't have sex" qualifies as "education" for now.] I feel the formation of a Gay/Straight Alliance Club at Irmo High school implies that students joining the club will have chosen to or will choose to engage in sexual activity with members of the same sex, opposite sex, or members of both sexes.

To be honest, this is not a new argument. I've seen many anti-gay people refer to GSA's as "sex clubs." It's as if the only thing that they can imagine kids doing during a GSA meeting is discussing (or worse, having) sex. I suppose this shouldn't be surprising, as anti-gay people seem to get hung up on that whole sex thing themselves, so they automatically assume gay people are equally hung up on it.

However, in the case of a GSA, I can only assume that people making such an assumption have never actually talked to a gay teen. Quite frankly, there are a lot of other things that fall pretty high on the list of things they need to talk about. Let's just run down a partial list:

1. Concerns over how they're going to meet their ideal boyfriend or girlfriend when they're already limited to 2-3% of the population as even remote possibilities. (Hey, I'm in my thirties and sometimes I worry about that one.)


2. Concerns about how their parents will react. (Even gay-affirming parents can be taken aback when their own child comes out to them.)


3. Concerns of how to deal with teasing, name-calling, and bullying from other classmates.


4. Concerns about how to safely figure out if you can tell the cute boy in gym class that you think he's cute without getting yourself beaten up in the process.


5. Concerns about dealing with people's strange and sometimes inappropriate questions.


6. Questions on what they can do to ensure a better life for themselves and other LGBT people.


7. Figuring out what their sexual orientation actually is. (Thanks for the suggestion, Rose)


8. Taking comfort in the knowledge they're not alone or the only one going through this. (Thanks for the suggestion, Erin.)

(Note: If any gay teens or gay adults who remember their teen years would like to suggest additions to this list, I'd be happy to keep it growing.

Quite frankly, there are a lot of things to talk about when it comes to being gay, especially when you're young and life in general is confusing and uncertain. So this idea that gay kids are just going to sit around discussing sex or hooking up to have sex is so far from reality that it's not even in the same universe.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying that the topic of sex won't ever come up. (Heck, I'm not even saying that no kids will ever meet at a GSA meeting and decide to enter into a sexual relationship.) We're talking about teens with raging hormones and lots of questions, after all. But at the same time, I think these discussions are more likely to focus on the kinds of things that should've been covered in a decent sex ed class, anyway. (You know, one that says more than "don't have sex.") Like any other kid, they're going to want to know about health risks. And they might even want to know about where and how love and sex might intersect. They're not going to be looking for a how-to manual. (If that's all they wanted, they could jump on their favorite P2P network and download a couple dozen videos.)

And ultimately, I think this is where those who oppose the formation of a GSA do both the children and their own ideals a great disservice. A GSA provides an opportunity for adult involvement in such discussion. It provides an opportunity for discussions about ethics, responsibility, and many other topics. It provides an opportunity to offer guidance and provide proper role models.

The problem is, anti-gay people automatically assume that there are no ethics involved in same sex relationships. They think there's no such thing as a good gay role model. They think homosexuality is nothing more than a den of complete depravity.

The problem is, their actions only serve to create that reality they think already exists. In the end, they're part of the problem.