Recently in Coming Out Category

Yesterday, I did a serious post about National Coming Out Day and cominng out of the closet.  Today, I want to share a fun little video I did.  I figure coming out is scary enough, I might as well find humor in it where I can.



I do want to take a moment to issue an apology, however.  After I made the video, I realized that I flubbed up and said "transexual" instead of "transgender."  I should have used the latter word, for countless reasons, such as the fact that gender identity issues delve into far more than physical sexual characteristics.  Normally, I do a better job than that.  But rather than trying to explain why I used the wrong word, let me just say this:

I fucked up.  I am sorry.  This is just proof that I need to work even harder at being a better ally to the transgender community.  I hope that the transgender community will give me a chance to do exactly that.

I'd rather be hated for who I am rather than loved for who I am not.

I ran across the above saying on a tee shirt a couple years ago.  It's always stuck with me, and it's a principle I try to keep in mind when I live my life.  It's an important principle when faced with the decision of whether or not to live as an openly gay[1] man.  It's a principle I want to discuss as a part of my contribution to National Coming Out Day.

One of the big hurdles to coming out -- whether in general or to specific people -- is the fear of rejection.  There's that fear -- and sometimes, it's a well-founded fear -- that friends, family members, bosses, and other individuals will reject us, stop loving us, and even make our lives miserable.  Personally, I've often found it far easier to come out to a perfect stranger.  After all, if they reject me, I've lost no relationship or support.  However, I maintain that remaining in the closet in order to get someone to continue to love and accept me isn't a good reason to stay in the closet.

I wish to be clear on what I am saying there, lest it be misconstrued.  Staying in the closet so that someone loves me is not the same as not coming out to my parents because I'm financially dependent on them.  Nor is it the same as hiding my sexual orientation from my boss so that I don't get fired.  In those cases, I would not be staying closeted in order to get the people in question to continue loving me.  I would be doing it in order to survive.  I could survive without my parents' love[2] relatively easily -- sadly, some kids do it all their lives.  But there was a time when it would've been much harder to survive if my parents quit buying me food and clothes or stopped providing me with a place to sleep and keep warm.[3]

The thing is, there are billions of people on this planet.  And a great many number of them will love me and accept me for who I am, gay man and all.  I've been fortunate in that over the years, I've found and built friendships with plenty of them.  Indeed, I've made far more new and incredibly supportive friends than I have lost old friends.

So I see no point in remaining in the closet to keep those "friends" who refuse to accept me for who I am.  Truth be told, if I have to lie to them to keep them as loved ones, then they are not truly loved ones at all.  I learned long ago that as much as it may hurt, I'm better off letting such people go and finding people who will not only accept me for who I am, but actually prefer me to be authentically me.

So yes, I'd rather be hated for who I am than hated for who I am not.  But I have a third, even better option. I can find people who love me for who I am.

Notes:

[1] And I'm pretty sure it would apply to other QUILTBAG people too.

[2] I am fortunate in that this was never an issue for me.  While it did take my parents time to adjust, they never rejected or disowned me.  Sadly, not every QUILTBAG individual has been so fortunate.

[3] Note, also that came a going when I no longer needed my parents' financial support.  And that's the thing about valid reasons to stay in the closet:  they are more often than not temporary and something that can eventually be overcome.  Granted, finding a new boss who isn't homophobic in today's economy may seem like a near-impossibility....

I came out to myself and my best friend at the time on Monday, 1 April 1996. Today, 1 April 2011 marks the fifteenth anniversary of that event. In honor of that, I've decided to do a series of posts on the topic. This is the third one.

Given the fact that I came out on 1 April, I often like to make the following joke when discussing that night:

If you find it necessary to start the conversation with "This honestly isn't an April Fool's Day joke," then you probably picked a bad day to come out.

This year, it's particularly funny because Merion commented on the fact that I really did start with that disclaimer.  However, this year, the joke has me thinking about the practical matters of coming out and timing.

Truth be told, there is such a thing as a "bad time" to come out.  For example, the Gay, Lesbian, and Straight Education Network (GLSEN) cautions students to think about their financial and emotional safety when struggling with questions about whether to come out -- coming out may prove to be a mistake if you're one of those unfortunate souls who will find yourself homeless as a result.  I've also seen others caution against coming out to family during holidays, family reunions, and times of great stress.  After all, it's important to consider how the other person's or people's states of minds at the time may shape their immediate response, or even their overall attitude.  So yes, there really is such a thing as a "bad time" to come out.

However, the rest of the message needs to be considered, too.  When I make that joke about my own "bad timing," I also like to point out that I had to come out the day I did because I was in crisis.  I had reached the point where waiting simply would have continued to leave me in a state of mind and bondage that could have very easily led to my total self-destruction.  Plus, there's the fact that Merion -- the one person I knew would support me -- was only going to be on campus for a limited time.  A day or two after I came out to her, Merion was back on her way to her new college (and her incredibly cute roommate, though I didn't meet him until the following year) in New Paltz.  If I had delayed coming out that night, I'm not sure when I would've gotten another opportunity.  And then, I'm not sure what would happen.  (I shudder to think of what might have been the most likely outcome.)

So while it's important to think about many factors in considering when the best time to come out, one should always remember that some factors are more important than others, and that sometimes, a sense of true urgency could override many pieces of otherwise good advice about when it might be better to wait.  In the end, only the person coming out can make that call, though.  That's the person who has to live with the decision and whatever consequences might come of that decision.

I came out to myself and my best friend at the time on Monday, 1 April 1996.  Today, 1 April 2011 marks the fifteenth anniversary of that event.  In honor of that, I've decided to do a series of posts on the topic.  This is the second one.

I've watched a number of movies that have dealt with the theme of young men coming to terms with being gay.  However, it is the rare movie that explores that theme with the intensity and rawness as Shank, the British film directed by Simon Pearce.  In this film, Pearce gives us a glimpse into the life of Cal, a teenage gang member who is trying to hide his sexual orientaion from his fellow thugs.

The movie quickly introduces us to Cal, who copes with his feelings by engaging in random sexual encounters, drug use, and gang violence.  The first few scenes show the gritty nature of his life in the gang.  However, Cal's life suddenly changes when his best mate, Jonno, and their de facto leader, Nessa, decide to pick on poor Olivier, a French exchange student who is stereotypically and somewhat flamboyantly gay.  In a moment of conscience and fear -- and perhaps seeing too much of himself and his potential fate in Olivier and the treatment he receives -- Cal stops the pair from beating the French boy, allows him to escape, and then abandons his fellow thugs to apologize to Olivier and offer him a lift home.

Cal attempts to return to his gang's hideout later, only to discover that he is not only unwelcome, but an acceptable target for his former comrades' anger and violence.  Cal escapes and returns to Olivier, and the pair soon get involved in a rocky, tenuous relationship.  However, Nessa and the other gang members discover Cal's secret and begin to hunt down the pair.

This movie is a masterful blending of grit (to rival FAQ's and Ethan Mao) and tender sensuality, demonstrating the storm of emotions that Cal experiences as he is tugged in different directions.  All of the actors play their parts well, filling each scene with emotion through words, tone of voice, body gestures, and expression.  Even characters like Nessa, whose deeper motives for her anger and rage towards Cal are beautifully fore-shadowed toward the beginning of the movie, are given a great deal of attention and depth.

One particularly interesting piece of cinematography in this movie was the use of the cell phone video footage. The gang always recorded their acts of violence via cell phone, and this fact was used in the movie to hint at violence to come at times.  It was an interesting way of adding a bit of suspense at critical moments.

My one criticism of this movie would be that there's a bit more synchronicity in the movie than is really reasonable.  For example, it's entirely too convenient that the first sexual encounter Cal has with the movie is with Scott, who later turns out to be one of Olivier's university instructors.  There were other coincidences involving Scott, which I will not go into, as it would reveal too much about how the movie concludes.

As a final note, I would warn readers that this is a very violent movie and even includes sexual violence.  Those who are bothered or emotionally trigger by such things should either skip this one or take appropriate precautions when sitting down to watch it.

Tonight while doing laundry and packing for my trip to Erie, I spent some time listening to Episode 22 of the Inciting A Riot podcast.  Fire Lyte is an intelligent, funny, and charming podcaster and I highly recommend you check out both his podcast and his blog.  For my own post, however, I want to focus on the segment of Episode 22 where Fire Lyte talks about work and the closet.

Fire Lyte makes the sound observation that different jobs allow for different levels of being open about one's spirituality and sexuality.  I know that as  software engineer, I'm in a position of great comfort.  An old coworker once summed up the engineers' situations when he commented that he once overheard a conversation between two managers discussing the engineering department on a previous job.  The older manager told his junior, "They're a weird lot.  But they get the job done, so leave them alone."  My own experience has verified the truth of that mentality, that most people in charge of engineers are willing to overlook just about any "personality quirk" as long as the person in question proves themselves an invaluable resource.  As such, I can be relatively open about both my sexuality and my spirituality without worrying about my job.  Someone who is in a teaching position or -- to go back to Fire Lyte's example -- who is working for children in a governmental capacity may not be so lucky.  To them, an alternate spirituality or sexuality could be a liability to them.

Fire Lyte's advice on the matter is to be conscious of this, both when making decisions about how out to be in their current job or in deciding what job opportunities to pursue.  This is certainly sound advice from an individual perspective, and I support the idea that an individual's first concern should be his or her own well-being.  Principles don't matter as much when you can't afford to buy food.

However, the down-side to that advice is that it does tend to reinforce the status quo rather than challenge it.  And as an idealist, this is one area where I certainly would like to see the status quo challenged and eventually broken.  To accomplish that, someone somewhere -- quite probably a lot of soemones in a lot of different somewheres -- are going to have to push their luck and take risks.

Part of the problem, as Fire Lyte noted, is that people have all these strange ideas about Pagans (and gay people), and that if you happen to be the only person that your employer or others know that is Pagan (or gay), then you have an uphill battle to fight, and one that your employer or others in power may not be willing to let you fight.

The problem is, there's ultimately only one permanent solution to that scenario:  Pagans (and gay people) need to become more visible.  As long as we stay hidden because it's easier, then people will remain unconfronted with and uninformed about us.  As I said, we only reinforce the status quo.

This doesn't mean that I think everyone should run out and tell their boss, their neighbors, or anyone else that they are Pagan (or gay).  I don't think everyone should slap a pentacle or pride flag on their desk at work, their car, or their living room window (my landlord made me take mine down due to a lease violation).  I may be an idealist, but I'm not a moron.  But there are those of us who can take risks -- and there are different levels of risk that different people can take -- that would go a long way.

There are those of us in jobs where we are secure, either due to the nature of the job or the fact that we are invaluable to our employer.  And I'd encourage those who have been at their job for five years or more (yes, such loyal employees still do exist, though they're rare) to think about how they might have the job security to push the boundaries a little.  Because the only way we can gain more visibility and more understanding is to be more visible.

I'll also note that the advantage of having been at a job for a long time before coming out is that you're an established person.  Rather than being an unknown individual who is a "weird Pagan," you become a known hard worker who happens to be a "weird Pagan."  And ultimately, I think that's what we need.  We need to be seen as full individuals.

As I said, there are different levels of risk.  This most directly translates into different levels of being "out."  "Coming out" at work can be something as simple as telling a couple of trusted coworkers (or even a trusted manager) in confidence.  The whole office doesn't necessarily need to know, and even the increased awareness of one or two people can have positive and radical results in the long term.  I'm reminded of the job I had in Ithaca.  During the four years I was there, I kept a picture of my boyfriend on my desk.  The only two people who commented on it the entire time I was there originally assumed it was a picture of my brother.  I politely informed them each that the handsome man was my boyfriend.  The one said nothing more, while the other became a better friend.  I'm not sure what anyone else in the office made of the picture.  For all I know, the others still assumed he was my brother, and I was content to let them assume that.

In the end, each person must make their own choices when it comes to the closet(s) and how "out" they want to be at work, in their community, or in other aspect of their lives.  Each person must decide what level of risk he or she is willing to take, and I would not dream of dictating such important choices to others.  Bu I would encourage everyone to consider again what level of risk they might be willing to live with if it means a long-term improvement for all Pagans (and/or gay people).

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.

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.

Originally posted to Multiply on 6 February 2008.

I've spent the last couple of days thinking about my story about coming out to my parents. I feel like there was so much that I left out. Of course, when I shared them during the panel discussion, I naturally had to keep my comments short, and this meant an extremely abbreviated story. So I shared what I felt were the most relevant points at the time.

However, now that I have more time to spend, I feel it's important to share a bit more. After all, when I talked about how much time it's taken my parents to work through everything, I felt like I was attributing it to them. That's not entirely accurate. In retrospect, I made my own share of mistakes which has probably prolonged the reconciliation process.

The most immediate example is the fact that I came out to my parents well before I was ready. After all, I had only come to accept my sexuality a scant two months before I told my parents. So in reality, I was still emotionally processing everything myself.

Mind you, I don't regret my choice to come out so quickly, mainly because it was the right choice at the time. The week before I had that fateful conversation with my mother, I had made another poor choice, the choice to tell another person about my sexual orientation. Telling that particular person was a horrible error in judgment on my part, and I can only say that I did so in a moment of emotional weakness.

The problem was, I knew that this particular person sometimes wasn't the best at keeping secrets, and I was concerned that news of my revelation could get back to my parents. When I realized this, I decided that if my parents were going to find out, I wanted it to come from me. So I I made my decision to make sure that's exactly what happened.

I made what I still believe was the moral choice. However, the moral choice meant trying to deal with my parents' reactions to my sexuality while still trying to go through the emotional healing and self-acceptance process myself. That was a high price to pay, and I probably wasn't always as understanding and patient with my parents as a result.

Another choice I made -- and I'm not sure whether this one was ultimately a mistake or not -- is that I backed off once I told my mother. Because of her reaction, I let the whole topic drop for a long time. I didn't deny my sexuality, but I didn't bring it up either. I didn't correct my mother a year later when I moved back home and she told me that I wasn't allowed to have "overnight guests of the female persuasion." (Actually, I snickered to myself, thinking that wouldn't be a difficult rule to keep.) In effect, I did allow my parents to linger in their denial and otherwise ignore the whole matter.

Was that a mistake? I don't really know. In some ways, I wonder if I might have sped up the process if I had pushed the issue a bit more at crucial moments. But then, I also think that maybe they really did need that time.

Then there was an incident that I'm almost positive I made a mistake. It was back during the first few months when I was dating Mike. I had met him and taken a picture of him. One day, I printed out a picture of him because I was going to visit friends and wanted to show them what he looked like. My mother saw the picture and asked who he was. I told her he was a friend and left it a that.

I think she knew I wasn't being completely honest with my answer. In fact, even back then, I had the impression she was looking for the real answer. But I chose not to tell her he was my boyfriend. I was afraid to admit it. I was afraid she'd once again go into a tense and brooding silence as a result. And I didn't want to deal with that at the time.

In retrospect, I think she was trying to bridge that gulf of silence that had developed between us when she asked about Mike. Instead of responding with honesty, I chose to reward her efforts by maintaining the wall between us. I have to ask myself what percentage of responsibility for the time it's taken us to be more open since then lies on my shoulders because of that choices. And I wonder what other ways I've shut my parents out without realizing it.

It's something I've been working on recently. That's partly due to my friend, Amy, who did a reading for me while we were at the Naturist Retreat this past August. She told me that I needed to share all of my life with my mother. And as Amy predicted, Mom's been fairly open to it.

In my previous post, I talked about a panel discussion hosted by the GAGV after a free screening of the movie Anyone and Everyone. In that post, I mentioned that I chose to share a few comments based on my own experiences. What follows in this post is an outgrowth of what I chose to share. I chose to modify and refine my comments here rather than offer an exact quote for two reasons. the first is that I don't remember exactly what I said. The second is that I feel I can say more and say it better, and wish to do so in hopes that it might further help others.

One of the things that I loved about the movie we watched is that many of the parents admitted that it took them a while to come around and accept their children's sexuality. Prior to that point, they even admitted to trying get their children -- even through manipulation -- to change their minds and live a "heterosexual lifestyle."

However, one of my biggest criticisms of the movie is that none of the parents gave a time frame, but instead left people to draw their own conclusions on how much time "a while" amounted to. Indeed, I myself was left with the impression that most of them were measuring that time in terms of months, if not weeks. The sad truth, however, is that for some parents, "a while" can be measured in terms of years.

I came out to my mother back in the early part of summer 1996. I'm not sure when she told my father that I was gay. I know I never did. After her reaction, I just never felt like I could bear it. She did not react well, and it is a truly painful thing to watch your mother cry, knowing that you caused those tears.

For years, my parents and I lived in a sort of unspoken standoff. They clearly loved me, but there was now an aspect of my life that we simply would not talk about. Indeed, I remember more than one time when I bitterly commented to friends that my relationship with my parents was fine just so long as we didn't discuss my love life (or religion, but that's fodder for another post). If it came up, my mother quickly turned quiet and moody, and I tried to find the quickest way to move the subject on. And the subject never came up with regards to my father.

It is only now, almost twelve years later, that I really feel that I can openly talk to my parents about this aspect of my life. And I have to admit that I still find it somewhat frightening to do so. Even after over a decade, I can say happily that things are finally improving, but we still have a ways to go.

I should also note that to the best of my knowledge, my parents still believe that homosexuality is a sin. I doubt that will ever change. And though I wish they'd change their views in that respect, I do take comfort that they're coming to a point where they can at least accept that aspect of my life and embrace me for it despite their own feelings on the topic.

So to anyone who thinks their parents might react negatively, I would offer some advice. My first bit of advice is to come out to your parents anyway as soon as you're ready. But my second piece of advice is to realize that you may be in for a long, rough road, and you need to be prepared for that possibility.

That means having the support you need to help you through the rough times. That means having someone to be there when you need to cry if and when your parents are less than understanding. That means being ready to offer your parents resources to help them with their own emotional processes during this time. The more prepared you are, the more likely it is that you can make it through such a difficult process, hopefully long enough to see some positive outcomes from the whole ordeal.

To close my thoughts, I'd like to offer a bit of story from my own experience. Four or five years ago, I was eating Easter dinner with my parents. As the conversation progressed, we got onto the subject of grandchildren, and my father said something about me having children. My mother took on a forlorn, bitter tone and announced, "Jarred won't have kids." I think I might have actually cringed at this point, as this was not a topic I really wanted to have dampen our Easter dinner.

However, my father completely surprised me by saying the first thing he ever did on the topic of my sexuality -- while in my presence at least. He took a consoling and even optimistic tone of his own as he reassured my mother, "You never know. He might end up meeting a nice widower with children."

Never let the long, rough road get you to a point where you close yourself off to the possibility of such an unexpected turn of events.

In my last post, I reviewed the movie, Anyone and Everyone. In this post, I want to briefly discuss some of the highlights from the panel discussion that the GAGV hosted after the screening I attended.

The panel consisted of four people. The first two people was a woman and her gay son. Her son is highly active in the GAGV Youth program. The two of them shared their experiences from when he came out to her. The other pair were a married couple who also had a son come out to them. Likewise, they shared their own experience. Then the audience was invited to ask questions or offer their own comments. Much of the question period focused on how people could further help our gay and lesbian youth, as well as help them during the coming out process. A few also commented on the realization from the movie that parents of gay children often have their own coming out process, a concept the parents on the panel were able to offer more insights on.

One brave young woman spoke up with a somewhat different question. She told of her initial attempt to come out to her own parents. She indicated that her parents' reaction was so bad that she eventually told them it was all a lie and that she had just been frustrated with her boyfriend at the time. Tonight, she was looking for advice on what to do, because she realizes she still needs to come out to her own parents, but isn't sure how to proceed from here.

I think that one of the most remarkable things was that everyone on the panel as quick to express understanding with regards to her choice to go back into the closet with her parents, and rightfully so. I'd imagine the young lady probably feels a great deal of guilt over making that choice, let alone admitting it to a theater of sixty or so relative strangers. So it was appropriate that they addressed that first. They then went on to encourage her to try again, but to take her time and be sure she's ready. They gave her a lot of advice, including suggestions on literature she might want to acquire and even that she might want to consider counseling to help her through what could be a difficult process.

Towards the end of the discussion, I decided to speak up and offer a few comments of my own. One of the things that I had noted as the discussion had progressed was that the panel consisted of parents who were relatively accepting of their child's sexuality right away. I felt that someone needed to speak up to offer some insight on the other possible experiences, especially after hearing the other young lady speak about her own bad experiences. So I raised my hand and took a deep breath as I received the microphone. I hope to share my own thoughts (although it ill likely be a modified and refined piece rather than an exact quote from earlier) in another post. However, i will say that it was well received and I had more than one person thank me for speaking up afterwards.

This afternoon, I went to a free screening of Anyone and Everyone. The screening was sponsored by WXII, ImageOut, and the GAGV.

The movie was a one-hour documentary about a handful of families with gay children. (As an aside, I should note that "children" in this post is used to describe a family relationship, as everyone in the documentary was over the age of eighteen, as near as I could tell.) Both children and parents alike talked openly about the coming out experience and how everyone responded to the situation and handled the revelation. The families themselves were from varied backgrounds. Families from liberal and conservative backgrounds as well as religious families (including one Mormon family) participated in the documentary. Also, various ethnicities and various geographic regions were represented.

As each family told how their child came out and shared their emotional experiences and how they handled the situations, the viewer got a strong sense of the variety of responses that gay children face when "breaking the news" to their parents. They even told the heartbreaking story of one young man who was thrown out of his own home upon coming out to his mother. Fortunately, for that particularly guy, he found a family willing to take him in.

Fortunately, the rest of the families came to some level of acceptance and found a way to maintain their relationships with their children, though the road was not always smooth. Indeed, some parents admitted to starting out trying to change their children at first. In fairness, it was good to see one lesbian in the documentary admit that she could've handled the coming out process a bit more tactfully and sensitively. I felt this helped to remind everyone that we kids make our share of mistakes in the coming out process, too.

One of the most touching parts of this movie for me was to hear some of the fathers' responses. At least two families told how upon finding out, the father immediately wanted to call their gay son. The one wanted to reassure his son that he was loved no matter what. Another wanted to call and apologize, because he realized that he had said some things that were hurtful, especially now that he knew his son was gay. In a world where most gay men expect our fathers to be the most upset due to our sexuality, it was moving to see fathers who showed such deep concern and compassion for their sons in such an instant way. The fact that these men were not the type to be accepting right away (both had come from conservative upbringings) merely underscored just how meaningful their immediate actions were.

After the movie, the GAGV invited some of their local speakers to hold a panel discussion. I hope to review the highlights of that discussion in my next post.

For those who may be interested in seeing this movie, both screening information and ordering information is available on the movie's website. (See the link in the first paragraph of my post.)

I decided to post my favorite joke, since I was writing it up for another site, anyway.

John came from a relatively conservative hometown and had great parents. He went away to a college about three hours from home. During his first semester there, he came out to himself. After a few months, John decided he really needed to come out to his parents. So he called them and let him know that he'd be home that weekend.

On the drive home, John decided it would be best to tell his mother first. He figured it would be easier to talk with her and then have her help in breaking the news to his father.

As he arrived home and opened the front door, he was greeted by the smells of his mother's home cooking. "Mom!" he called out.

Her voice carried through the house despite its soft tones. "I'm in the kitchen getting supper ready!" He wandered back, slightly nervous but determined. Once he reached the kitchen, he found his mother standing in front of the stove, dutifully stirring the contents of a large pot with a wooden spoon. "Did you have a pleasant drive home, dear?"

"Yes, I did." He paused for a moment before continuing, "Mom, I need to talk to you."

She continued stirring as she replied, "Okay, dear. I'm listening."

"Mom, I've been doing a lot of soul searching at school, and I don't really know how else to say this. Mom, I'm gay."

She continued to attend to her cooking without speaking. After several moments, he broke the silence. "Mom?"

"I heard you," she replied in her usual tone, not betraying her thoughts or emotions.

John shifted nervously. "Don't you have anything else to say?"

After a moment, she paused stirring looked out the window. Finally, she asked, "Does this mean you like putting other men's things in your mouth?"

Suddenly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was going, John shifted and stammered. "Well, yeah, I guess."

Quick as lightning, his mother turned to face him, wielding her wooden spoon like a weapon. She brought the utensil smashing down on his head with a large cracking sound. He was still stunned when she brought her face inches from his own and hissed, "I don't ever want to hear you complain about my cooking again!"

Tonight, I rented and watched a copy of Rock Haven. This movie is the tale of young man, Brady, who moves to a new town (I get the impression it's actually a small island off the west coast based on clues from the movie). Brady is a quiet young boy raised in a conservative Christian environment, planning to head to Bible college at the end of summer. However, Brady's plans and life become quite upset when he meets his new neighbor, the nineteen year old Clifford who comes from a non-traditional background (his mother appears to be a part of the New Age movement). As the movie progresses, the two boys become friends and fall in love. Indeed, the entire plot revolves around Brady's struggle to come to terms with his feelings for Clifford in light of his faith.

Let me first say that as I've lived some aspects of Brady's life, I am struggling not to be too critical of the movie. The writer, director, and actor set a monumental task for themselves by taking on the challenge of trying to portray this subject matter in a seventy eight minute movie. There is simply no way for them to truly portray the struggles -- not to mention the intensity those struggles reach -- in such a short amount of time. If I were to measure their portrayals against my own experiences without considering this fact, I would have to call the movie a complete failure. However, given the time constraints, I admit that they did a fair job.

I think that one of the things the movie did quite well was to demonstrate how lonely this struggle can be. As Brady first reacts poorly to Clifford's advances, Brady realizes that the "problem" lies within himself and he feels drawn to Clifford despite what he believes about such attractions. And yet, he realizes that there is no one he can turn to. He suffers through this alone. Certainly, he goes to the pastor of his church a few times to discuss Clifford, but he takes care never to tell the pastor the whole truth. I recognized this self-editing and self-imposed isolation all too well and found myself thinking of my own past.

The movie also does well to demonstrate that this struggle ultimately affects everyone around Brady. Clifford finds himself facing a new challenge each time he comes into contact with his love. Brady's mother confesses that she can feel the walls building between herself and her son. Even Peggy, the girl that Brady's mother tries to fix him up with (with the help of Peggy's own mother, of course) is the occasional target of Brady's frustrations.

I did feel that the movie lost me after Brady and Clifford spent the night together. Perhaps it was because my own life took a different path (I actually clung to my first lover for dear life out of a sense of desperation), but Brady's choice to seek help afterwards just seemed ill conceived to me. It seemed too unreal to me for Brady to lay in bed with another man and talk about being safe, yet turn around and decide to abandon his love and try counseling after a single conversation with his mother. Perhaps if the movie had done more to re-instill the sense of guilt over a couple more scenes, it would've made more sense to me.

I will say that the conflict between Brady and his mother was well done, (though not as well as the conflict between young Aaron Davis and his mother in Latter Days. The scene where the two talk in Brady's bedroom after he announces he's not going away to get help was truly touching and showed the pain of two people who love each other facing off from immovable points of view. Of course, I particularly loved the extra touch where Brady announced to his mother that he forgave her.

The other part I loved about the exchange was when his mother told him that he was making the biggest mistake of his life by staying. Brady simply responds by noting that he has already made the biggest mistake of his life (presumably letting Clifford fly to Barcelona to live with his father). I think most of us who went through a period of denying our sexuality can identify with those sentiments. I know that as I watched this movie, I found myself thinking of my teen years and what I might have done with them had I come out to myself sooner.

Today is National Coming Out Day. As such, I felt it entirely appropriate to talk about the subject of coming out of the closet. Rather than focusing on the benefits of coming out of the closet (something Peterson Toscano and others has already covered quite well), I thought I'd offer some practical bits of advice and thoughts on the whole coming out process.

I think the most important thing to keep in mind is that it is a process rather than an all-or-nothing proposition. I don't have to tell my best friend, my boss, and my mother all on the same day. (Though if my best friend is lousy at keeping secrets and knows my mother, I might want to take extra care in deciding what order to come out to them in.) Personally, I'm not very out at my current job and that works for me. But then, I'm not very close to any of my coworkers and we tend to travel in very different social circles outsides of work. So I don't have to worry about leading a double life and keeping two worlds from colliding.

Also, it's been my experience that coming out to new acquaintances is much easier than coming out to long-time friends and family members. This is because I don't have a lot of emotional energy invested in the relationship with new acquaintances. If a new person in my life is uncomfortable with the fact that I'm gay, it's easier for both of us to walk away. It's not nearly as painful, so the risk of rejection is easier to take. And coming out to new acquaintances gives me the opportunity to make sure that I get the whole issue out of the way before building the deep friendship I'd then be afraid of harming by coming out later.

When it comes to acquaintances, especially new ones, I'd also point out that there are many ways to come out without even saying, "I'm gay." Coming out can be as simple as mentioning that my boyfriend and I went to see the new movie that came out last Friday and we both thought it was terrible. Or I can simply mention that I think the guy walking down the sidewalk across the street is kind of cute.

The nice thing about that kind of approach is that it replaces the idea of a scary declaration into a natural comment that can be offered as a simple aside. After all, heterosexual people are talking about going to the movies with their boyfriends and girlfriends all the time. And enough heterosexual guys voice their opinions about the women passing by. So it stands to reason that it's perfectly natural and normal for us to act similarly. And if it shatters a few assumptions on the part of those around us, all the better.

I will admit that such an approach doesn't feel natural at first. But I can say from personal experience that it does get easier. And I've noticed that in general, most people get over their initial shock fairly quickly. After all, they'd have a hard time justifying a complaint about such an off-handed comment without it becoming obvious that they're the ones making an issue out of your sexuality. And a great many people simply take the whole thing in stride.

Note that I'm recommending this approach for people one has just met or have a fairly casual relationship with. The bonds between close, long-time friends and family members require a bit more sensitivity and a personal touch when it comes to coming out. With a close friend or family member, I would always choose to sit down and have a talk which involves expressing my sexual orientation in a personal manner that is appropriate to a relationship.

As I said, coming out to close friends and family members is much more frightening due to the emotional investments involved. Being rejected by a close friend or family member hurts deeply, and no one wants to face that. However, this is where coming out to people we have casual relationships with first shows its second benefit. By coming out to acquaintances and people I've just met, I've built up confidence. I now know that the world doesn't end just because I tell someone I'm gay. And I know that people can still accept and love me despite knowing that I love and am attracted to other men. And if people who are just meeting me for the first time can still be accepting, I can be confident in most cases that the people who already know me and love me will continue to want to do so after coming out to them. After all, they know the kind of person I am, and nothing I tell them will change that.

It may take some time for some loved ones to come around. They will have to get over their initial shock (but then again, didn't I go through some of that myself?), but in the vast majority of cases, love will win out. And my experiences have born this truth out and convinced me of its veracity.

Of course, I don't recommend that anyone put themselves in danger by coming out. If there's a very real danger of losing one's job, coming out to one's boss just isn't worth it. If one is financially dependent on parents who would disown a gay child (and sadly, such parents still exist), then it's best to wait. But part of the trick is learning to distinguish between real dangers and dangers that are a matter of fear and perception only. And that takes practice. So find a situation that involves a level of risk you're comfortable with and start practicing. In the end, it's well worth it.