ATL Pride

For fall break some of my friends and I ventured to Atlanta, Georgia for Pride. It was probably one of the most enjoyable weekends of my entire life. I must admit I expected Atlanta to be homophobic and backward, but instead I was greeted by a lively community, wonderful allies, and friendly people. It was the first pride I’ve ever been to, since the Triangle pride parade always takes place while I’m warming up with DUMB for the football game on Saturday.

I know a lot of people take issue with pride and pride parades. Their reasoning is sound – why should we take pride in something if we believe it isn’t a choice; if it’s biologically predetermined? They argue that pride festivals exhibit the very worst of the gay community – the femininity, the promiscuity, and the alcoholism. I understand why one might think those things – I would have agreed with some of them in the not-so distant past, but now I realize that very little of those arguments hold any water. Sure, pride parades may be displays of “nontraditional” behavior – men in dresses, women in trousers, and everything in between, but I don’t see why that’s anything to be scared of. Instead of judging, we should be applauding our peers for being brave – for being themselves - regardless of whether we choose to emulate them.

In response to allegations that pride parades are merely one, decentralized orgy, I offer this: saying that LGBT people are promiscuous, bar none, is a vast overgeneralization; promiscuity occurs regardless of sexual orientation. One need not look any further than Shooters on a typical night to realize this. The belief that LGBT people hook up more than their straight conspecifics is outdated. Various societal disparities between people of LGBT-status and our straight peers are at work, like oh, I dunno, how about the fact that we’re not allowed to get married and form legally recognized monogamous relationships? It is not far fetched to make the connection between the marginalization of the LGBT community and drug and alcohol use, which are used to escape, however temporarily, from our oppression. (As I noted in my last post, there isn’t anything inherently wrong with hooking up, as long as it’s mutually consensual, so no hate on those who choose not to participate in monogamy.)

This post wasn’t supposed to turn into a social commentary, so sorry for that. I don’t mean to get all preachy.  In sum, pride parades are not simply spectacles for drag queens and dykes, though they are a welcome and much loved part of our community; no, there are also families of all kinds, allies, LGBT-affiliated churches, and parents of LGBT people, all coming together in support of the LGBT community to take pride in who they are and what they believe.

TL;DR: ATL pride is fun, go next year. 

Get Out There

A couple of weeks ago I attended this year’s first session of Man to Man, an GBTQ discussion group at the Center. We started off by making a long list of things that we would like to discuss during the course of the year – things like gay PDA, advocacy, body image, but a common theme that almost everyone mentioned was relationships. That is, dating. A lot of people complained that Duke has a hookup culture, which is not new news to any of us, but it begs a question: if so many of us are discontent with the hookup culture, why doesn’t anyone try to change it?

During Sophomore Convocation, Dean Sue urged our class to put ourselves out there and “have the courage to date.” She noted that there is always [and always will be] some risk associated with love. She was right, there are risks associated with love. Love can seem scary and putting yourself out there definitely increases your possibility of getting hurt, but the hope is that all the heartache you may go through will be worth it in the end.  If you want to get to know someone, ask him/her to have coffee or lunch with you.  Sure, there’s a chance that you won’t find ‘the one’ immediately, but there isn’t any harm in going on a few casual dates with someone to get to know him/her better. There isn’t any pressure to ask him/her out again if you decide you aren’t interested, but it’s likely that even if things aren’t going to happen romantically, you will have at least made a new friend. Baby steps, people, baby steps.

Complaining about Duke’s hookup culture without actively trying to change it isn’t constructive. I’m not saying there is anything inherently wrong with hooking up as long as it is mutually consensual, but if you want more, then you owe it to yourself to put yourself out there, cause you never know who might be waiting for you to make the first move. You may get hurt, but “don't brood. Get on with living and loving. You don't have forever.” - Leo Buscaglia

Unrequited Like: A Fresh Perspective

[Editors Note: Hey y'all, I just wanted to put a little reminder for you about the Center's Pride Prep party this afternoon at 4. We're meeting in the LGBT Center to have some food, drink, and good times. We'll be making signs to hold on the float at Pride next Saturday so if you want to make your own sign to carry, stop on by! We've got supplies!]

I have had, over my nineteen years, my fair share of experiences with what I’m going to call unrequited like, that is, a crush gone wrong, unreturned feelings, and the like. I wouldn’t really call it “love” because that’s too strong of a word; some of the people for whom I’ve had feelings are people that, quite honestly, I know almost nothing about besides the surface level. Perhaps “obsession” is a better word, though the negative connotation associated with that word makes me loath to use it to describe a crush. To be as gay as humanly possible, I’ll just say I felt like Elphaba in “I’m Not That Girl” from Wicked.

Needless to say, having unreturned feelings for someone is not very fun – it made me doubt a lot of things about myself: was it my personality? My intelligence? My looks? Or was it just that I, as a whole, was simply not desirable?  This little self-pity party was, in retrospect, unnecessary. Maybe it wasn’t anything about me; it is, after all, perfectly possible for someone to be intelligence, attractive, and have a good personality and still not ‘do it’ for everyone.  

So, he didn’t like me back. I got over it. That’s pretty much how that whole deal works, but I have to admit that I’ve held a bit of a grudge since then. I know it’s silly and immature, but I can’t really help but feel some animosity towards the boy who, when I had the bittersweet experience of close-quarters communication, either ignored me or was downright rude. But “hey,” I told myself, “at least he’s talking to you, even if it is a ‘fuck off’ here and there.”

This summer I had the tables turned on me. By that, I mean that instead of being the lovesick mess, I was on the receiving end of an unrequited like. It has changed my perspective about my experience last year quite a bit. I will admit that, when my feelings towards the guy in question were unreturned, I probably played the victim. I’m not ashamed of that, that’s exactly what it felt like from my perspective. But the great thing about perspective is that it can change. Does this mean I forgive my ex-crush for the way that he treated me? No, not entirely, but I better understand why he acted the way he did and how I can act differently so as not to put someone through that same experience.

 It was difficult to decide how to treat the situation, especially after having first-hand experience as the unwanted suitor. I had a difficult time deciding whether it was best to ignore it completely and hope that the clean cut from him would allow him to move on or whether that would, as in my case, simply turn the crush into bitterness. Though it was difficult and pretty awkward for both of us, I found it was better for our relationship in the long run to talk to him about his crush and explain that, while I valued his friendship, I was not currently interested in pursuing a relationship with him. Things still aren’t great between us, but I think it’s important to have the decency to treat him and his feelings with respect, even if it means a period of hard feelings may occur. I hope that, in the long run, closing the door on him will allow him to realize that there are many other suitable doors down the hall.

Being the recipient of an unwanted crush is hard. It’s awkward. It’s tedious. But when you find yourself as the recipient of unwanted affection, try to remember however ‘hard,’ ‘awkward,’ or ‘tedious’ it is to deal with someone liking you; it’s many times more difficult and uncomfortable for the other person.  To continue my door analogy, wouldn’t you rather someone answer the door to tell you that “no,” they didn’t, in fact, “order the tall, fair-skinned, brunette with freckles” and that “someone must have made a mistake” instead of ignoring the doorbell completely?

Waffle House Woes

This evening, my friend Chris and I ventured beyond the walls of Duke to a shining beacon of hope – Waffle House. While a trip to Waffle House at 2AM is inherently a bit crazy, tonight’s trip was different. Sitting at the booth across from us was a lesbian couple and their presumable straight female friend. A couple of extremely intoxicated males walked up to their table and began hitting on the couple, who explained that they were together and that they were not interested in the men. One of the men responded by asking them to “prove it” by making out at the table. When they refused, he asked how much he would have to pay them to watch. Later, when one rose to go to the restroom, one of the men asked her if she was going to use the men’s restroom, since “one of them has to.” At this point, I was getting fairly pissed off, but I didn’t know what I could do – it was an uncomfortable situation to say the least. A few minutes later, as the women were paying, one of them asked if they were looking for a threesome that evening.

Needless to say, I was rather shocked at the events of this evening. Of all the patrons and workers in the restaurant, no one (myself included) chided the men for their harassment. In fact, most of the comments drew laughter from the rest of the room. There was a group of UNC students in the diner as well as another group of Duke students and none of us said a single word. Mid-conversation I remarked that I felt as though I was on “What Would You Do” because of the sheer outrageousness of the situation. I suppose I was relieved that no one told them they were going to Hell or the like, but that was the only highlight of the evening.

I wonder if I was right in not speaking up. Is it ever okay to not speak up? No, it wasn’t my place to correct the men, and yes, the women seemed to be standing up for themselves just fine, but I can’t help but feel a bit guilty for sitting by and saying nothing. I suppose the fact that the harassers were severely intoxicated heightened my anxiety about speaking up, but even then I don’t know if I can be fully excused. I simply did not to know what to say to the men. I hope next time I stumble into a situation like tonight’s I will be better prepared.

P.S. Vote Against Amendment One

Playing Along

Recently, some friends and I played a game after an evening out. The game – to sit in a chair in the middle of the room and name the person in the room that we would most like to see naked. Wow. It was awkward to say the least. The company that evening included several close friends, a few ‘good’ friends, and then some general friends. I’m fairly certain that everyone in the room knows that I’m gay, but still when it came my turn I had an extremely awkward moment. I sat there thinking, thinking about how uncomfortable it would be to call out the name of a straight male in the room - uncomfortable for me, uncomfortable for him, uncomfortable for the entire room. So I shrugged and named a female.

The fact that I wasn’t able (or willing) to express my true feelings in front of a group that I consider to hold of my closest friends really made me think about some things. I was really disappointed afterwards, but I’m not sure if I was disappointed in myself or in my friends for playing the game in the first place. The game was a bit vulgar, but maybe it is my fault; maybe I should have been comfortable enough with my identity to say a man’s name. On the other hand, maybe I am underestimating my friends; if so, I feel bad for not trusting them. I guess even though I’m mostly comfortable with people knowing that I’m gay, it is a completely different story when I’m forced to admit things in a public setting like that.

We all know that rejection really sucks, especially by close friends, but don’t do what I did. Don’t sell yourself short, and, more importantly, don’t sell your friendships short by not trusting your friends to be supportive. No, I don’t suggest you tell straight boys you want to see them naked, but maybe, just maybe, trusting yourself to trust others would leave you better off. Shakespeare once said, 'Expectation is the root of all heartache." Whatever you do, don't expect the worst, especially from your friends. I expected my friends to react negatively if I told the truth, but I now know I wish I had said something else that evening, I don’t know what, but something else. I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m a bit tired of playing along.

Better For It

I used to pray that I would be straight. I could never imagine embracing my homosexuality. Homosexuality is often looked upon as a sign of moral depravity. It is something that can make an otherwise ‘good’ person bad. It is a sin. It is wrong. It is unnatural. So, if homosexuality is so bad, why has it made me a better person?

Whoa. What? Did I just say being gay has made me a better person?

Yes.

Yes, I did say that.

Being the outcast, the pariah, and the one who doesn’t belong. Being called ‘faggot’ and ‘queer.’ Being told that my love is sinful and depraved. Being told that I am a second-class citizen. Being exposed to the inequalities that I would never have been exposed to as a straight man.

All these things have made me better – made me stronger. Without my homosexuality, I would likely never understand the plight of not only the LGBTQ community, but I would never comprehend the feminist movement or minority rights movements. The only way for me to truly understand what we are fighting for is to have experienced it myself. Being gay has taught me the power of acceptance. It has taught me that it’s okay to be different. It has taught me that things are often subjective. It has made me less judgmental. It has made me, well, me.

Being gay has made me strong. It has taught me to stand up for my beliefs and myself. But that’s not why being gay has made me a better person. Being gay has made me a better person because it has taught me how it feels to be marginalized, misunderstood, and mistreated. Being gay has taught me to stand up for not only myself, but for the rights of any person who is downtrodden, devalued, and discouraged. What has it taught you?

Brotherly Love

I recently came out to my older brother. Coming out is rarely an easy process, but from my observations and experiences, it is often unusually difficult for gay men to come out to their straight brothers. This was certainly the case for me, especially because my brother is also a student here at Duke, so the issue was of rather pressing importance, lest someone out me to him before I had had the chance to talk to him myself. I was definitely nervous when I told him, but I also knew it was necessary and that I wanted to be the one to tell him, so I overcame my fear and just did it.

His response was amazing. Here is part of it:

“First off, understand that I'm your brother and nothing will ever keep me from accepting you and loving you. I understand that you are who you are and that's ok with me. I firmly believe that you have to do what makes you happy in this life. [...] Basically, spark notes for this message is that I love you no matter what and completely support you. Be who you are, not who people want you to be. I'm sorry if I upset you with my actions and please know that you can talk to me about anything. I'll call you a bit later today; I have to run some errands and what not right now. Love you.”

Yeah, so I have a pretty great brother. He reacted much better than my parents (I’ll save that story for another time, feel free to ask me about it some time). I don’t think there’s any better feeling in the world than having someone close to you tell you that they love you unconditionally.

While my coming out experience went rather well, I understand that not everyone who reads this post is out. I also understand that not everyone has the luxury of being able to come out. However, if you are merely waiting for “the right time,” I urge you to really think about getting it over with. That perfect moment may never come and, though I am hardly urging you to kick down the closet door, you may consider at least cracking it. No longer having to keep a mental tally of who knows and who doesn’t is pretty liberating. Yes, coming out is a terrifying process, but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible.

[Author's Note: Don't come out until you're absolutely ready. I'm by no means saying anyone has to come out right now. If you need to talk to anyone about coming out, feel free to contact me or any of the BDU contributors. This might help you as well.]

Learning to Love Myself

I don’t know whether or not I am capable of truly loving someone. Of course, I love my family very deeply, but I have never been ‘in love’ with anyone. I know, I know, I’m only 19 and I really shouldn’t expect to have found “the one”, but sometimes I get the feeling that I will be single for the rest of my life. The sad part is – that doesn’t really bother me. It’s not that I don’t want to have my own happily ever after story, rest assured I do. I merely mean to say that I’m not scared of solitude (or it’s my greatest fear and I’m deluding myself by telling myself the opposite.) Trusting someone else with my love makes me vulnerable. I never want that vulnerability to allow someone to destroy the sense of self I’ve constructed/developed/whatever. Not coming out was an intentional way of me avoiding dating, purposely skirting all those messy emotions.

I’ve always told myself that, if I find the right person, then it won’t matter what anyone else thinks, because I’ll be completely in love with him (her?) and, at that point, coming-out will be insignificant. In high school, I had no reason to come out because 1) it wasn’t exactly a gay-friendly culture and 2) there weren’t any guys that I thought were “worth coming out for.” (If that sounds offensive, I’m sorry.)

This little…strategy worked well while I was in high school, but now that I’m in college I’m realizing the effects that not dating in high school have. Because I haven’t been in a meaningful relationship before, I’m scared of getting into one now – I don’t want to mess it up. I don’t date because I am scared of being unable to show affection, but until I have some reason to do so, I know my emotional self will remain underdeveloped. I am realizing that I will be unable to experience love until I truly know myself. Until I learn to love myself, I will remain unable to have a meaningful connection with someone else.

I believe that perfect love is nearly impossible to attain and maintain, but it is that very impossibility which makes love so inspiring and powerful when it does occur. I have realized that it’s okay to be scared of love, but that being scared shouldn’t stop me from striving for it anyway.

Gandhi once said, "A coward is incapable of exhibiting love; it is the prerogative of the brave.” I know that I will eventually be brave enough to love another, but until then, I will continue to love and know myself.

Trying Out

[Editor's note: Please welcome Cameron T to the blog!]

Author’s note: I am by no means condoning the playing of/listening to Hannah Montana by referencing one of her songs in this post. I want to make that very clear.

Since my arrival at Duke, I feel as though I’ve been trying out. No, dear reader, I don’t mean I’ve been gallivanting around attempting to join every group on campus in a desperate attempt to satiate my need for social stimulation. I mean trying out for acceptance – both within and without the LGBT community. I came to Duke with many unresolved questions in mind – Should I come out immediately? If so, how 'gay' should I be? If not, then when should I come out? Was it possible to have the *ahem* beeeeest of both worlds – being open with my LGBT friends and yet maintaining some privacy with the rest of the world? #ThanksHannah. In retrospect, I see that those questions were downright silly. Since I wasn’t out in high school, I felt as though my transition into college life would be a defining moment for how I would live for the next four years.

Needless to say, I chose to rip off the proverbial Band-Aid and enter college as an openly gay man. My reception and continuing integration into the community has been interesting to say the least.

Community is a curious word. The dictionary defines it as a social, religious, occupational, or other group sharing common characteristics or interests and perceived or perceiving itself as distinct in some respect from the larger society within which it exists. The LGBT community at Duke is (or should be) about more than the mere fact that its members all identify as LGBT. Isn’t it supposed to be about supporting and loving each other?

One of the things I’ve noticed most about our community is a seemingly ever-present sense of comparison of between individuals’ ‘levels of gayness.’ I’ve heard of people being ‘too gay, ‘not even counting [as gay],’ and being ‘not gay enough.’ During a bus ride a few weeks ago, a member of our community glanced at me, turned to his female friend, and unabashedly stated, “If I ever get that gay, shoot me.” Another member of our community once told me that he reads the BDU blog just to laugh at it. When a community which claims to value diversity mocks its own, it has far-reaching implications. I would even go so far as to say that it gives tacit consent to be mocked by those outside of the community.

So why then is there such factionalism within our little community? If being part of the community is all about what makes us alike, then why do we tend to focus so much on what’s different? Yes, I understand that there is a need for everyone to be an individual, but I am unsure why (completely unmerited and ridiculously contrived) varying ‘degrees’ of homosexuality seem to be so heavily emphasized.

I have to reject the notion that gender expression and sexuality are synonymous. Actions (watching football or liking to shop for example) are not gendered, and do not, in and of themselves, say anything about one's sexual preference. The fact that we think of certain actions as being more masculine or feminine than others is a mere reflection of societal constraints on gender. We need to rethink our notions of what it means to be ‘gay’ – in a community that strives to be as inclusive as possible there’s no room for such internal bias and exclusivity.