Obligations

Does it matter if people know that I’m gay?

It shouldn’t, right? I mean, I’m just a person who happens to be attracted to women. That fact doesn’t usually influence the lives of the people I interact with on a daily basis. Besides, the majority of people—straight people, that is—never have to declare their sexuality. It’s just irrelevant in most situations. My sexuality is really no one’s business but my own, right?

I’ll be starting a new job soon. That means a new boss and new coworkers that I potentially have to come out to. I’ve been wondering how important it is that they know I’m gay. Sure, it would be nice to avoid a lot of awkward conversations or questions about whether or not I have a boyfriend if they just knew up front that I date women. But then again, why should I be obligated to share this really personal aspect of my life as soon as I meet anyone new? Who I date has no bearing on my professional life, so unless I get to be good friends with my new coworkers I’m not sure if there’s a reason for them to know.

But it does matter if they know. Because them not knowing really just means that I’m allowing them to assume that I’m straight. Which isn’t true. My silence would be almost the same thing as denying my sexuality—denying a big part of who I am.

And I am not ashamed of who I am. So, no, I won’t let them just assume that I’m straight.

But back to the question: does it matter if people know that I’m gay? What difference does it make for people to see me and know that I’m gay? This is the difference: Every coworker, classmate, friend, or family member who knows that I am gay is one more person who will have to think twice about voting to take away the rights of their coworker, classmate, friend, or family member. I may be a part of a minority, but we are by no means a minority living in a bubble. You see that majority that gets to vote on the rights of a minority? Don’t let them live in a bubble.

Throwback Thursdays: Coming Out: Think about it.

[Editor's Note: Hey Readers! Welcome to the fifth installation of "Throwback Thursdays." Every first Thursday of the month we'll feature a post from the BDU Blog, Version 1.0. Here's one about how coming out at Duke doesn't fall into a small box. Hope this gives you some food for thought before your Spring Break kicks off. Also, the blog staff will be bringing you new content all through Spring Break. Don't be a stranger! One more shameless plug: If you are a male identified student, Men Acting for Change is hosting our very own, Janie Long tonight at the Women's Center (in Few). She'll be talking about homophobia, is it really about who a person has sex with or is it about gender expression? Not to be missed, y'all.]

December 11, 2008

Coming out at Duke doesn't have to start at the LGBT center.

So as people who have read this blog have seen, there are many types of people who are out at Duke. There are people in fraternities, sports-teams, activists, RAs, TAs, etc. Coming out at Duke doesn't have to start at the LGBT center. It's there if you want to take advantage of the great programming, but for some people being out at Duke involves a closer group of friends who like to do similiar things. And for others, it has more to do with being honest with your straight friends.

This thread is for you. What are some of your concerns about coming out at Duke? What are you curious or concerned about? I think the blog is suppose to represent these things, but sometimes direct questions can focus the conversation more.

I'll say for those of you who have developed a life at Duke you don't want to let go of, then I wouldn't be too concerned. Remember that you go to Duke. And although some people would say otherwise, in comparison to the rest of the country(even world), the students who go to Duke are usually very accepting and surprisingly encouraging. Even my friends who are staunch Republicans still reach out to me all the time like they did before I came out. Being honest with them usually strengthens your relationship by removing some of the ambiguity and making you more confident about yourself.

Are you nervous about not being able to do well profesionally? Businesses don't care. Honestly, there is a great conference hosted each year in New York called the "Out for Undergraduate Business Conference." If you sign up, they usually pay for you to fly up and stay a night in New York and meet people from all types of financial-service and consulting firms, and they put you in touch with other companies. While it's different in some areas of the country, it has become almost unprofessional to be homophobic in cities like New York, Chicago, Boston, DC, etc. And most companies like JPMorgan, BCG, Goldman Sachs, McKinsey etc. have strong networks where they focus on helping you find a position and developing your career once you're there.

So if you're curious about anything, go ahead and ask. If you do, you might get a response. And if you don't, then you may never get another opportunity to find out.

Another Shameless Plug and A Few of My Most Stressful Things

Following Kyle's trend from yesterday, I'm going to do a little shameless plug before getting into the real point of this post.

So, there's a discussion group for LGBTQ-identified men called Man to Man. Did you know that? Most first-years probably don't because we haven't had any meetings this semester. We had some logistical difficulties but we'll be back in full action next semester. Man to Man is a monthly discussion group for LGBTQ-identified men for us to discuss the issues we face and how they affect us. Topics that have come up are coming out, stereotypes, gender expression, and lots of others. The group is meant to help us foster a community that goes beyond the superficial conversations and give us a support network of other queer men that we know we can talk to. If you're interested, shoot me an email (ajb56@duke.edu) and keep your eyes open for specific details on meeting times.

Ok, plug done. Now, on to the real thing.

Thing 1:

It's the end of the first semester. I'm a senior. I'm applying for jobs. I'm gay. What does this have to do with anything? Well, when applying to jobs (or when I actually start *grunt of agony*), I need to be cognizant of the company's treatment of LGBTQ individuals. See, I've decided that I'm going to be gay in my applications. I'm going to list my involvement with the LGBTQ community here. I'm going to talk about it in interviews when asked. I hid who I was for close to 16 years of my life. I'm not hiding anymore. But my refusal to hide myself brings up another fear: an employer's refusal to hire me for not hiding who I am.

I've tormented myself about this for a few months. I could keep my sexuality quiet and not worry about it. But what about when I find a partner? What benefits would he be able to get? What if my secret is discovered and the company doesn't take it well? Then, I'm still out of a job. Whereas, if I'm upfront about my sexuality from the beginning, then once I do find a job that is accepting of me, I'm totally set and don't have to lie about what I did last weekend or something like that.

And yes, I am terribly worried that I will get turned away from jobs that I am highly interested in because of my sexuality. I am worried that I'm going to have a harder time securing a job than my straight counterparts (that could also be due to my psychology major compared to others' economics major *defeated sigh*). But you know what I've told myself? That's life. Life sucks sometimes. I wish it didn't and it's not fair that it sucks because I'm gay, but I'm not going to sit and cry about it. I'm going to boldly march on in search of the right job no matter what rejections I receive.

Thing 2:

Following Jenn's inspiration (Gosh, I'm such a follower. Maybe because I have such awesome people to inspire me :D), I'm going to have a conversation with my mom about my sexuality and life in general when I go home for break. We've never had an outright discussion about me being gay, only awkward, subtle suggestions of acceptance. But I think I'm at a point where I need to hear the words from her mouth. Me applying to jobs as an out gay man is basically putting business out there for all to know, and I'd like to have my mom's blessing, I guess. Her opinion still matters to me a lot. It doesn't mean I'm going to completely change at her suggestion but she's my mom. I love her so I want to know what she thinks.

Also, and here's the big reason this is stressing me out, I'm going to tell her about my boyfriend. I'm incredibly terrified thinking of how she's going to handle it. It could range from an uncomfortable, slow acceptance to rage and shouting. Both will most likely involve crying from both of us. I've always kept my personal life somewhat of a secret from my mom, even the names of my friends. She's always asked questions about my friends that I was never comfortable with, but that's a personal conversation to have, not a blog post. Suffice it to say that I had good reasons to be so private. Telling her about my boyfriend is going to be the first time I've opened up to her about the details of my personal life. That is stressful enough. The fact that it's about her gay son's boyfriend just takes it to another level.

I haven't decided when we're going to talk about it, probably the day before I come back to Duke. I don't want to do it too early because if things go sour, I'll have to deal with that for two weeks. But I also want to give her time to think it over and ask me all her questions before I'm like "Peace out, mom. See you in 5 months!".

So yeah, that's what's stressing me out right now. This final I have isn't helping *pained moan*. The only thing getting me through this week is the thought of being done and my awesome boyfriend :-)

To Be (Out) Or Not To Be (Out)...

All clichés aside, this is actually a really important question. For those of you who came out to the Faculty/Staff-Student Reception at the center last week, I’m sure you can remember those wonderful speeches we heard about life as an LGBTQ student, professor, job applicant, etc. We heard about the challenges and fears those speakers faced, and still face, when coming out to their peers. For those of you who came out to the Our Lives discussion group last week, I’m sure you can remember how we talked about coming out experiences and how we go about deciding who to come out to and when.

The questions I pose to all of you, regardless of your “affiliation” with the LGBTQ community is this: Why do we decide to come out? When should we come out? Who should we come out to? Do we have a responsibility to come out?

Although each of us could easily give a million different answers to each of these questions, some answers are simpler than others. When should I come out? That’s easy- when I am damn well ready, of course! Well….maybe I’ll never be quite ready, so should I force myself to just start telling people? Maybe the who is easier- the people who matter most to me should know, of course! Well…what if they don’t approve? What will my family think? Will I get kicked out of the house? What about the why question? Easy! Because it’s who I am! I’ve already come out as smart and funny and friendly and blah blah I could go on forever—wait…this is different though. Maybe it’s not such a good idea… What about this “should” question? What the hell does that mean?! What do you mean “should” I come out?

Do you see where I’m going with this? None of these questions have straight answers (get it?!), because all of them force us to consider the consequences of coming out, no matter the situation.

The question I really want to focus on is the Should because I feel like it is this question that we are most likely to neglect. Let’s take applying for jobs as an example. Read this article and tell me it’s “no big deal” to come out on your resume or in an interview.

You might say, “I would only want to work at an LGBTQ friendly employer anyway.” To which I would reply, “Me too!” But in the back of my mind all I can think about is the bad economy and how I may not have the luxury of getting my first choice job. In this instance, it might actually be better to “play it safe” by “playing it straight”.

But then I have to ask the question; do members of the “community” have a responsibility to be out? How else are people going to be exposed to people who are different? If we don’t make an effort to let people know who we are, how can we expect people to change?

I’ll leave my opinion on this issue for a later post, but I’m interested in what you all have to say. So I'll ask again, should we?

Repeal, The Question, and JFK

[Editor's Note: Today marks the first day that LGBQ service-members can serve openly. Here at the BDU Blog we could not be more excited to celebrate the occasion by featuring a post by one of Duke's own LGBQ ROTC members. We've been waiting for this moment since your first year, Pruitt!]

Sometimes, I like to consider the legacy of President Kennedy to be one of my personal enemies. Folks who know me well might be able to tell you how quickly I can turn a topical discussion of current politics into an only-somewhat-related angry tirade against the former Commander in Chief. Now, there are all too many gripes I have with Kennedy that I won't bother writing here. Instead, I'm only going to address my biggest issue with the man: his most famous statement has ruined how we, as a people, think about ourselves and the nation. Every time I hear "ask not what your country can do for you…," a part of me cringes.

Now, I know, that's a fairly edgy set of political/philosophical/governmental statements for our less-than-edgy support/celebration/ community blog here, so allow me to clear up the association with an example. Anytime you get interviewed within the military, or have a friend learn you're in the military, or walk on a bus in uniform, there is a pretty solid chance that you'll get the Question. "So, [awkwardly leans over and reads nameplate], what made you want to join the Navy?" There's only a few different answers generally given in polite company, and it only takes a bit of time around military personnel and prospective to have heard them all. "I wanted to serve my country," or "To do my part," or "To help defend democracy," all get played out fairly quickly. I should think even just saying "Freedom," with enough oo-rah in your voice should get a fairly warm reception. The answers we give—the answers we're comfortable giving—are always about what we can do for our country. I like to think that people who have heard all the normal answers but still keep asking the Question (I'm looking at you, interview board for Congressional nominations to the Naval Academy) want a bit more of an honest, gritty answer so they can really see the muck and guts that form sailor's loyalties. After forty years on the job, they want to hear Real Talk about the money, the women, and the resumes.

The first time I remember getting the Question was from an interviewing Navy Lieutenant when I applied for an NROTC scholarship. I was at a residential arts school at the time and, since we couldn't have personal vehicles on campus, she had to come to the school to meet with me. I met her at the front admissions desk, her in prim, official Khaki and myself in some dressy get-up that screamed Art School Kid. I led her by practice rooms where a strand of Rachmaninoff was played and replayed every five seconds, a courtyard where a giggly gaggle of dancers arabesqued between us, and finally through a small library with more than half its shelves full of art history into a quiet meeting room. After sitting down, filling in the beginning of some Very Official Paperwork and opening a thermos of coffee, she laid it on me—Why? Even though she hasn't so much as glanced at my application yet or read a single entry under "activities," our Lieutenant knows I'm a far shot from the traditional officer candidate or enlistee. Even if she was paying attention on her way inside, LT probably wouldn't have been able to find our one American flag on campus—finding any Eagle Scouts, Varsity football stars, or JROTC Student Commanders would be even harder. I clearly belonged in a coffee house or an obscure (still hip) local art gallery, not on a drill field. So, she asked, why?

For her watching, it probably looked like I blanked and had not yet thought of a reason behind my newly decided career path. The truth is, I had the answer on the tip of my tongue, the slightly-selfish answer that could knock the dust right off of Congressman Barrett's interviewing board, the completely-left-field answer to startle the curious stranger on the bus, and the sufficiently-unique answer to get all manner of asterisks on my FITREPs. I wanted to toss the meeting room door back open and gesture at my absurd campus, saying, "I want to be more than this. I shape my own identity, and I refuse to be locked up in the Art Haus closets of so many from the LGBT community. I am so sick of all the spangles and glitter that blots out my sight whenever I see queer men in media, and I'm sick of the fact that's all the rest of America can see too. In five years, I want people to go to my commissioning and say 'That's what a queer American male looks like, and damn does it look fine.' I want to be one of the first openly bisexual men to be made an officer in the United States Navy."

Instead, though, I was stunned into silence. "Want to see the world, maybe? Call of the sea?" she prompted." I looked at her confused for a moment before stumbling over my words, that, yeah, call of the sea, love traveling, right. I wasn't even in the Navy yet, and they already had my first lie. On that day, just like every time turned aside and smiled at an off-handed gay joke, and every time I mentioned Sharon to my ROTC peers, and every time I dropped my last boyfriend's hand as we exited our dorm together, DADT had me lying and lying and lying. I tried to stay sane through other outlets: I gave a few anonymous interviews, I had a photo (courtesy Jeff Sheng) run everywhere from Newsweek to NPR along with their coverage of repeal, and I sank to dangerously dependent levels in an increasingly painful relationship that could have never have a public face. As of today, though, I don't need special outlets or mediums to be myself and stay afloat. So, while I can't officially give opinions on any military policy, I can say that today's repeal means I can finally stop lying and start giving real answers to the Question. More importantly, though, LGB servicemen currently on active duty can finally have some reprieve from Kennedy's cruel burden of national duty: for the first time in a very, very long time, they aren't being asked what more they can give to their country before it finally does something for them.

WOMYN Wednesday!

Hey, everyone! So, you might have noticed that there was no WOMYN Wednesday post last week. The reason is that I was at home, in Atlanta. I took the GRE last Tuesday, because I am a super-nerd and want to go to grad school as soon as I finish college. And then I fled Durham on Wednesday at 5:00 AM to make the 6ish-hour drive home. Once there, I had to curtail all activities involving rainbows, glitter, unicorns, and civil rights activism (in no particular order). Now, however, I’m back in Durham, and I have another survey for you!

What do you want to do after college? (Click on the question to take the survey.)

The questions in the survey have been on my mind quite a bit lately, since this year I’m a senior. Soon, I will be leaving the wonderful world of Duke, although I will probably end up in a place that also requires spending inordinate amounts of time in the library. (That’s actually my ideal situation, by the way: I was born to embrace the nerdy side of life.) So, I already know what I want to do with my life, and I think it would be really interesting to hear from y’all. The real world – which I plan to stay out of, for the most part – is a much different place, and there are many of us who will live and struggle in it once we leave Duke. A lot of us are fairly involved with the LGBTQ community here, but Duke, for all of its faults when it comes to providing a safe environment for us, is a very closed, rarified, even, dare I say, liberal community compared to many parts of the US and the world. Suddenly, being LGBTQ or an Ally may become more difficult or dangerous for some of us. So, please take this survey – it’s not all serious, but I hope it at least makes you think a bit!

P.S. Once you’ve finished taking the survey, please send your submissions to womynatduke@gmail.com! The inbox is so empty that when I shout at my computer screen, there’s an echo. You can submit artwork, comics, essays, poems, photographs – anything, as long as it’s your work and it has a queer women’s focus. If you want to submit something but are struggling with ideas, feel free to ask any of the editors, and be sure to check out WOMYN’s first issue. WOMYN is super-important, y’all – by its very existence it changes campus, but it can’t do that without a community effort. So please, submit – you have until September 16!

The Ghost of Summer Past

I'm back at square one again. If you're a long-time follower of the Blog, then you'll remember me struggling with coming out at my job. (You can catch up here.) Well, I ended up not doing anything and kinda letting the situation disappear. I never really came out but I always avoided any kind of conversation about sex and/or girls. I tried to leave subtle hints like leaving my internet browser on my computer with the Blog open or shopping for a "Legalize Gay" shirt while at my desk but nothing that directly said "Oh hey, btw, I'm gay."

I left my job at the end of the summer not worrying about it, thinking that I would never see those people again except for maybe passing each other on the quad. Obviously, I was wrong.

I was invited to come back and work again this summer. I didn't have any other summer plans so I figured it would be a good way to make some money for the school year. Little did I know that two of my fellow coworkers from last summer also decided to come back and work again.

Ok. Cool. That's awesome. They already know the ropes so things will go a lot smoother this summer. The whole I-never-actually-came-out thing didn't cross my mind... until a few days ago.

As we were starting our day at work, we found one of the yearbooks from last year and began to flip through it. My other coworkers had not seen it yet. We browsed through, commenting on how we thought it was funny/awkward to have pictures of tailgate in the yearbook. Then, we got to this beautiful photo of a certain three rooms in Kilgo that were flying rainbow flags outside their windows. One of my coworkers stopped on that page. I stood there bracing myself for what he was about to say.

"I didn't know what those flags meant until last year. I just knew that a lot of people liked flying rainbow flags", he said. Ok, not bad. I can deal with that. If people aren't exposed to certain cultures, they wouldn't understand the different symbols of that culture. He just needed to be educated. So, now he knows. Good. Next page!

"I have a friend that loves to tear them down hahaha!"

I don't know how to explain how I felt after he said that. It was a mixture of rage/ disgust/ anger/ fury/ thirst for blood and sadness/ pity/ hurt/ pain/ disappointment. I wanted to tear him limb from limb like in Mortal Kombat and at the same time, just hang my head and walk away. This was the same coworker from the other post that invited me to his fraternity party by telling me there would be plenty of girls.

He confirmed my worst fears about him. As much as I tried to not impose the "douchey frat boy" stereotype on him, he just kept insisting that I treat him like one of those frat guys that make all of us look bad (Yes, even as a fraternity member, I recognize that some members of the Greek community are complete and total... bad, awful, not nice people).

I was able to compose myself to squeeze out a nonchalant "Why would your friend do that? Does he have something against gay people?" I was on the verge of saying more but I knew that if I did, I would end up probably with my hands around his neck. He said that he didn't think his friend was homophobic, he just thought it would be fun. "I think it's kinda funny actually." Now, that actually pissed me off even more. At least if he was homophobic, there would be some hope of educating him. But you can't cure stupidity and ignorance. Luckily, before I could unleash my fury upon him, my boss walked in and put us to work.

I fumed about that for days and I'm still fuming actually. That event showed me two things: 1) He didn't get the sexuality hints I was trying to drop and 2) As much as I hate to admit it, sometimes, stereotypes are spot on. He's the perfect example of the negative connotation of "frat star." (Sidenote: I think "frat star" can also have a positive meaning. I'll explain that later though. Stay tuned!).

I just don't know how to handle this situation. I know that I should say something to him about how I didn't appreciate what he said and that I find it really offensive for someone to do something like that. However, I now find him so repugnant that I don't want to talk to him anymore than absolutely necessary. And I know that's not a good way to feel about anyone, especially a coworker, but I just don't want to put up with people that I despise. I've got better things to do with my life. I know, I know. That's a horrible attitude but I just get so frustrated with intolerance of any kind that my temper would be more of a detriment than an asset to the cause.

So, my question is once again, what in the world do I do?

I'm Coming Out... Again???

So, I've been a bit MIA on the blog for a while but with good reason. I've been working at Duke this summer doing a lot of the behind the scenes work helping to organize all the summer camps like TIP (Yeah, I'm looking at you, Brandy! :D ) I've gone back and forth about writing about this for a while but something happened recently to seal my decision.

Anyway, I work in a small office with 5 other people. They're all really great to work with and I'm pretty good friends with one of the other student workers. So I felt moderately at ease around them. That is, until one of my co-workers asked the question: Is he gay? Funny thing is, he was asking me if I thought one of our supervisors was gay despite him having a wife and children.

I honestly do not remember how I answered him. I was too caught up in the thought that maybe he was homophobic or thought gay people were destined to hell. Why was he so concerned about our supervisor's private life? The little bubble of safety I once felt now lay shattered on the ground around me. I heard a faint laughter, something mocking me: "You thought you were safe. You were wrong. *Insert evil snicker*" I panicked. I made up some excuse to leave and came back to my room. Was I going to have to come out again? Wasn't the first time enough? Is it NECESSARY that I come out? Why should I have to? But I decided to let it go and just forget about it. I was probably just overreacting anyway.

A few days ago, a different co-worker began telling me about a party his fraternity was going to throw at their off-campus house. In his attempt to win over my RSVP, he mentioned the amounts of drinks there would be and how a friend of his was going to bring "a ton of hot dancer chicks from the American Dance Festival." I looked at him and laughed. Little did he know how pathetic his attempt to make me want to go to his party only made me want to go less. Don't get me wrong. I love a good party just as much as the next guy, but by 1) using women as his selling point which infuriated me to no end and 2) thinking I was some hormone-driven dog, I had no problem turning down his offer. But then, he did something I didn't expect: "Why not?"

Oh no. I'm going to have to do it again. I'm going to have to come out to him, aren't I? Just like they did the first time I tried to come out to my friends, the words formed a simple sentence in my mind, traveled down to my lips, but couldn't pass them. If I could have turned red with anxiety, I would have. I hurriedly made up some half-baked excuse about wanting to get some rest and just relax. He left me alone. Crisis averted, right?

Temporarily, yes. But I just can't shake it. Why did I have so much trouble proclaiming something that I say so often now, something that I'm proud of? Am I still afraid of the sideways glances and evil glares? Am I terrified of the words he'll say? Do I think he'll look at me any differently? Am I really as open and proud of who I am as I'd like myself to believe? Is it just because of the people I usually surround myself with, ones that are accepting and loving and caring and open? This guy certainly isn't a person that I would normally hang out with on a regular basis. I mean, there's nothing wrong with him but it's just a mismatch of personalities and interests.

Something else struck me: I'm so worried about him judging and stereotyping me, but what if I'm doing the exact same thing to him? Could I possibly be going through this struggle because I'm stereotyping him to say what I would expect someone like him to say? Am I causing myself anxiety about being stereotyped because of my own stereotypes?

Answer: I am.

It's funny, you know. I always expect people to make leaps and bounds towards forgetting stereotypes and being more open-minded but, as evidenced by this, I still have my own progress to make in stereotyping. Part of me just wants to come out with it (pun only slightly intended) and just say I'm gay. But another part of me is mortified. I have to work with these people for the rest of the summer. What if things get awkward? Will our work dynamic suffer? On the other hand, what if there's absolutely no problem with it at all? Gah! I'm giving myself a headache going around and around in circles like this. I give up. Should I come out (with a proper parade and floats and rainbows, just kidding... sort of) or is there really no need to?

Any suggestions?