Transparency

I’ll try my very best to be concise and cut down on tortured metaphors; this is just a general life update. It’s hard to tell where to begin. You guys really have to forgive me because it’s a fine line between my life that I experience every day and what I tweet, but not everything crosses it.

• One of my photos is being auctioned for charity at an alumni event at the university and a few others will be displayed. Woo!
• I’ve well and truly lost track of who all knows I’m gay now. People have seen Grindr on my phone, I let my friend tell his girlfriend so they wouldn’t have secrets, and I haven’t been that secretive in general. I think it’s well and truly out of my hands at this point and I’m okay with it so far.
• I visited my old university the weekend before last. It was a strange experience, it was the same but different.
• I almost came out to my father last week but it didn’t end up happening.
• Last weekend through a strange turn of events a girl crashed in my bed with me. I’m not sure what she was expecting but nothing happened.
• I went on two dates with a guy. While we were out getting coffee a friend saw us and came over and talked. Though I didn’t call him my date or anything similar I introduced my friend to him without flinching. He was great and all but there were no sparks and I had to break it off with him.
• I have an impending date with another guy sometime. He asked me out to coffee. I obliged and he said he’d do the best he can to work out a time that he’s not busy, but that hasn’t kept him from texting me everyday for a week. I like this guy a lot better so far, I guess we’ll see.
• School has also been keeping me crazy busy, midterms are this week and next week.
• Overall, things are fantastic.

It was funny, I had the strangest thought this morning which started me thinking on how I’ve ended up here. I was in the kitchen eating a croissant and drinking tea. Talking to my roommate about nothing in particular while she packed her lunch, I stared at the bread as she slathered extra chunky peanut butter on it. All of the sudden I realized how much my life has changed in the past three years. Right at the end of my junior year in high school my best friend took an interest in a girl in our AP english class. Things developed between them and I wasn’t sure how to feel about her at first. I used to give her grief about things like what type of ice cream she liked or whether she liked cats or dogs. The one that I hassled her for the most for was that she liked chunky peanut butter. I’d say things like, ‘Yeah, you know, I’m not sure I can be friends with someone who likes chunky peanut butter.’ It was all in good fun of course. If I could have talked to that Kaleb I doubt I could’ve even convinced him he would be where I am now in three years. Back then I thought I knew everything. I knew which school I wanted to go to. I knew who my friends were. I knew I would never tell anyone that I thought I might be gay. I knew that my life wouldn’t take a huge detour. Ignorance truly was bliss back then. I went on with my life as I thought I knew it. I found myself at the university I knew I’d go to. I’d more or less understood I was gay at that point, still not out to anyone. Then out of nowhere the universe hit me with a left hook. It’ll be ten months to the day tomorrow. Ten months since the day I realized I couldn’t live the rest of my life like I had been. In the last ten months I’ve come out to ten people personally and over twenty people know that I’m gay. I’m in a new city at a new university with new classes and a new degree program. I’m in a new house (new to me anyway) with old friends. I’m making new friends and I’m experiencing new things with old friends. I’ve gone from not even being able to say the word gay to going on dates with guys. I’ve gone from shaking when I even blogged about being gay to almost coming out to my father. I think I’ve finally truly accepted myself. I know that even if I had the choice to be straight right now, I wouldn’t take it. I’m done lying. I’m done hating myself for no reason other than being me. I’ve come to a realization. If I don’t make myself transparent then not only am I keeping secrets in, but I’m keeping the world out. I was starving myself of life itself. My whole world was so stagnant before I broke down that dam. Life is just too short. I’m so thankful I came to this realization when I did: To get on track for my happy ending all I needed was a new beginning.

Brink

As I sit typing I’m laying in my new bed, in my new house, in my new town, going to a new school. Looking into my bright laptop has left everything except the screen black. It’s the strangest thing, it wouldn’t take much to convince me I was somewhere else right now. Maybe I’m back in my old dorm room bed down at my last university, avoiding homework as usual. If I try I can conjure the sound of my former roommate’s breathing or his favorite music playing. Or maybe I’m back in my bed at home. There’s a cool breeze blowing and the air here is dry just like a July mountain night.  No.  I can’t really believe that. If I listen I can catch a bark from one of the dogs, the blare of a far off siren, or a plane taking off. The A/C has a different sound, the floors creak, and this new mattress is too soft for its own good.  

It’s like a dream. It’s like I’ve been running through a forest and suddenly I don’t remember how I got here. I’ve been running too long to find my way out. But I can’t stop now, it’s after me. That simple truth that I first uttered eight months ago has grown into a monster that follows me everywhere. The cute fluffy little lie that I used to be able to ignore got eaten by this beast I let loose from myself. You want to know the worst part? I continue to feed it. Ever since the truth came out I’ve fed that beast on a diet of those two words. Suddenly, after a few modest meals, this monster is bigger than I can handle. I’ve found myself running. My ever present companion has become my ever present pursuer. To top it all off, what I’ve always feared has finally happened: others have been feeding the beast.

I’ll admit it, I’ve been holding out. I personally have old two more friends in the past month or so. It wasn’t anything special so I didn’t see the point in making a fuss. The two people I’m counting are actually a brother and sister. They’re the two siblings in my ‘second family’. They’re amazing people. He’s your stereotypical A-type personality, egocentric jock. He was captain of the football and hockey teams, drove a fast car, got all the girls, etc. But he’s really a great guy. I’ve known him forever but we weren’t great friends until high school. He’s occasionally an ass but he doesn’t judge and he’s there for you when it counts.  She is one of those absurdly nice people. You know she could get anything she wanted but she cares more about making others happy. You can’t go anywhere with her without her stopping and talking to someone she knows. She’s also one of the least judgmental people I’ve ever met.  Both are pretty mundane stories, a lot like the rest. I told her first and him a few weeks after. Both were told while we were driving around. She was pleasantly surprised, he hadn’t considered it but wasn’t surprised. Both were very okay with it. I was stone sober when I told her, I was drunk when I told him. Both were happy I told them. She was surprised that I didn’t tell her sooner, he was surprised I’d told him this soon. Both asked who I’d already told. She was impressed and proud, he said he’d beat up anyone who had given me shit before.  I love those two to death.

But as I said, I’m not the only one feeding the beast these days. Lo and behold, what I’d feared finally happened two weeks ago. It was the last week in town before most people, including me, went back to school. I decided to tell my ‘brother’ I was gay that Thursday night. I’d been drinking and blah blah blah you know the story. Friday night was plenty of fun too but I only saw my friend in passing. He invited me to a kegger at his place the next night, I obliged. Fast forward to saturday night. I had a lovely time at a barbeque then went over to the kegger. A while later I’m manning the keg with my ‘brother’ and in between filling red solo cups he decided to drop the news on me. “I’m sorry, and you’re going to be mad at me, but I told C___....  I just had to have someone to talk to.” Not only did the color drain from my face, but I felt like the whole room went black and white. Everything was in slow motion. I lifted my head and shifted my gaze from the keg to look at him. He had the most interesting look on his face. He was drunk and rosy cheeked with a smirk on his mouth and shame in his eyes. The words that I mustered were, “I’m not mad.” I guess that was mostly true because I still don’t know how I felt, or even feel currently for that matter. Long story short after that I got unjustifiably drunk, blacked out, and woke up on the ground two miles from home. I’m a fucking idiot. I did get a chance to talk to C___ though, even if the conversation was only, “Are we good?” “Of course.” Since that night I’ve talked to my ‘brother’ and though there wasn’t much to be said we talked and I feel better for it.

The second time the beast was fed was at my request; I asked one of my roommates to tell another one of my roommates. It went well, or so I hear, but I feel like a damn coward. I have legs to walk on. I have eyes to look into. I have a mouth that I can speak with. All I had to do was go to my roommate, look her in the eyes, and say the words. It’s too late to worry about it now but it was a good lesson for the future.

I’ll be honest, I’m exhausted. I’m tired of running from the beast. I’m tired of being lost. I’m tired of having to feed the thing that I fear most. The day where I’m going to have to own up to that beast is fast approaching. I’m waiting for the day when I can stop looking behind me, when I can stop running. But that’s the whole point, I need to turn around and and face it. Because it’s not some dark shadowy demon that I’m being chased by, it’s me. How can the truth ever come out if I don’t face it? How can I come out if I don’t let the truth catch up to me? Maybe I’m not lost, maybe I’m exactly where I need to be. Maybe this is where I take my stand. Maybe this is the point of no return. Maybe it’s time for me to stop talking and start acting. But I definitely have more to gain than I have to lose. I definitely have some work to do. I definitely can’t turn back now. And I definitely have to go over the brink.

Just Another Sunset/ Somewhere Over the Rainbow

It was day 5 in Hawaii. We had been doing all of the things you’d expect, beach bumming and whatnot. Who knew that a vacation was going to have so many emotional ups and downs? I definitely didn’t. When my friend, who has no idea I’m gay, told me as an afterthought that we’d also be going to a double gay wedding I was definitely surprised. I was also very excited. The wedding was for two men and two women. I was only a friend of a friend but I’d met the two guys once before on a previous vacation. Keep in mind that it wasn’t even a real wedding as it’s still unfortunately not legal. Anyway, the wedding was on Wednesday so instead of doing the bachelor/bachelorette parties the couples just chartered a catamaran for a sunset cruise. It was as awesome as you’d imagine. An open bar, dinner, music blasting, sailing around with great people (including tons of awesome gay couples, bonus!). Towards the end of the cruise everyone had settled down to watch the sunset. I was sitting at the bow snapping pictures and sipping a mai tai. One of the grooms was sitting with us. As the sun was just about to set a friend of his turned to him and said, “Enjoy it, it’s your last sunset as a bachelor.” The groom, who has been in a committed relationship for almost eighteen years now looked back and replied, “I’ve seen it before, it’s just another sunset.” I was overcome with a sudden pang of sadness. I knew that this conversation should have happened ten or fifteen years ago. This whole wedding should have been ten or fifteen years ago. It was sad that even after the two of them had loved only each other for almost two decades the best they could do was have a ceremony with no legality. These two people had already shared so many sunsets together and you could hear it in the grooms voice. He hadn’t seen the sunset as a bachelor for almost eighteen years. He watched the sun go down without any sadness, but I couldn’t quite say the same for myself. 

The sun came back up the next day though, just like it always does. It was the wedding day. We all got dressed up in our semi-casual garb and headed over to the church. It was a gorgeous venue. There were twenty or thirty of us on a small lawn between the church and the beach. We went and stood on the beach for a few minutes watching the ships come and go and the surfers ride in and paddle out. Eventually we took our seats. I ended up sitting between two of my guy friends. The one who sat on my left has previously had a history of homophobia, though in his defense, he was nothing but respectful through the ceremony. The one on my right is of no opinion on homosexuality as far as I know. But neither of these two, or anyone on the whole vacation for that matter, knew I was gay. As we sat in our seats waiting for the music and the two brides the sun was beating down. It was sweltering hot. Of course I’d worn a black shirt and I was about ready to keel over. Finally, not two minutes before the ceremony started, the one cloud in the sky shaded the wedding. Queue the music and the ladies. Through the ceremony there was an enormously bittersweet vibe. You see, we found out the day before that the ladies had lost their house to the fire in Colorado Springs. Because the fire had started after they had left they didn’t even have the chance to save anything. Their only possessions were what they brought with them to Hawaii. However, everything went on as planned. They still had each other, and that’s all they needed. Picture it, there I was sitting in the back of a gay wedding getting choked up and sitting stiff as a stone. The two exchanged their vows and rings. When the line ‘for better or for worse’ came up they both lost it a little. Behind my sunglasses my eyes were welling up but I was too afraid to wipe them because it would be painfully obvious. I might be biased but I think it was the most beautiful wedding ceremony I’d ever seen. The couple thanked everyone for being there with them and for the outpouring of kindness. Because there was going to be an intermission between the two weddings they put on music. Of all the songs they picked Somewhere Over The Rainbow. I really almost lost it. There was already tons of people in tears. I had to go down to the beach alone for some air. The second ceremony was thankfully much less emotional, though it was still beautiful and very touching. Afterwards we took a few pictures, said some congratulations, and left. Everybody else wanted to get food and go shopping. So there I was, walking around town dazed with too much on my mind.

A Better Place

What a wild few weeks it has been. I’ve got more to say in this post than I usually do so,  I’ll just jump right in I guess.
Better places. What does that mean? Better is such a human word, it such a human concept. It seems like we humans especially always want what’s just a step ahead. Bigger, faster, stronger, newer, more, BETTER. It’s really rather childish if you think about it, “But mooooom, I wanted TWO scoops of ice cream.” However the word can be used in contexts other than garishness and gluttony. What about bettering ourselves? Bettering our community? Bettering humanity? Sure there are plenty of positive uses for better. It’s definitely an enticing and seductive concept, the idea that the grass is greener on the other side.
I’ll admit, I kind of hit a rough patch about a week ago. It was one of those times that you can’t help but overthink things. I ended up falling into an old habit of putting all my problems in one pile and wallowing in it. It all started the sunday before last. The saturday night before we decided to have a poker night that ended up getting a little wild. I had a great time and so did everyone else. Though afterwards I got home sleep didn’t come easy, I had stressful dreams. They weren’t nightmares, I don’t get nightmares. But since starting coming out to people I’ve been having way more dreams where I’m trapped or lost or being chased. Anyway, I get up with a raging headache on sunday and my mom came in shortly after and tells me that my grandfather died in the night. Needless to say, I didn’t go complaining about sleeping poorly that night. I know, I know, you’re sorry for my loss, your condolences, blah blah blah. Please don’t take that harshly, it might sound callous but I’ve heard it too many times in the last few days. My grandfather was a great man and was well liked so there’s been no shortage of sympathy lately, especially with all the feeling sorry for myself that I did. And on top of that, my sister was (and still is) out on assignment fighting some of the bigger fires we’ve got burning around here. It was just one of those days. It brought me back to some of the other sundays I’d spent similarly back at school, those especially were the days that I’d feel like I was in way over my head. I’d have spent all weekend partying trying to forget my problems. Then on those sunday evenings I’d sit at my desk and look out the window. I’d watch the jets streaking across the sky making contrails, all the people on them were going somewhere, and I’d sit in that chair wishing I was anywhere but there. I wished that I could cross the fence to where the grass is greener.
I’m trying to make it there. I’ve taken two steps in that direction since summer started in the way of coming out to two friends. These weren’t so difficult so I’ll spare you the usual play by play. The first friend I came out to almost immediately after break started because it’d been on my mind since spring break. This is another guy that I’ve known for years. He’s the most polite and kind hearted person I know, he won best to take home to parents back in high school. Anyway, I was driving him home after we caught a movie with some friends. We neared his neighborhood and I asked if we could drive around the block once. He obliged. I did my usual song and dance, “How long have we known each other?” etc. I said, “And what if I was gay?” “Are you gay?” “Yeah.” “Then nothing. It doesn’t make a difference.” I couldn’t help but to be relieved even though I knew he’d take it well. The one thing that I really loved was, because he’d been playing it so cool, I asked him if he was all that surprised. He replied, “I didn't necessarily suspect, but I think that if I was surprised it'd mean we weren't very good friends.” We had already driven around the block by this time and he kept telling me to take a right or take a left trying to give us more time to talk about this and that. It wasn’t an especially long conversation, I’d told him I wouldn’t keep him because he was leaving for Denver in the morning. But after it was all said and done I pulled up at his house and he shook my hand and said goodnight. He texted me an hour or so later saying, “It means a lot to me that you trust me that much. If you ever need/want to talk about it more, I’m always here. Love you man.” I don’t deserve the friends I’ve got.
The girl I told yesterday went about the same way. She got back from school on monday and we had a longstanding date for coffee on tuesday. I’d told her there was something I wanted to talk about two weeks ago.We grabbed our coffee and walked over to the pond. We chatted about odds and ends stuff for about thirty minutes or so. Then I told her. She thought I was joking at first, which I guess in itself is a little funny. But there’s not much to say, we just talked for a few hours. She was totally fine with it, totally supportive. We talked about all of the usual topics: the parents, other friends, the future, the past, next steps and so on. She offered to get me in touch with some of her gay friends at her school. Little does she know, I already have an awesome support network. Though I still might take her up on it, I have yet to decide. But she did invite me to go with her to the local pride parade this month, we’ll see about that one too.
Do you want to know the other cool thing about the word better? It’s one of those linear words. You can’t have something better if you don’t have something to start with. So better implies moving forward, step by step. I think my favorite usage of the word ‘better’ is probably when it’s used as ‘it gets better’. Those three words are so powerful, so hopeful. But for it to get better I’ve got to keep moving forward. I’m not particularly religious but I do think my grandfather is in a better place, wherever he is. It’s a bummer that he’ll never really know his only grandson, but c’est la vie. We’ve all got to keep moving and taking the next steps to ‘better’ if we aren’t there already. We can’t let ourselves pile up all our problems and let them get in the way. We can’t let ourselves get lost either, sometimes you just have to make your own road. So I’ll keep moving on, step by step. I'll move forward until I find those greener pastures, those promised lands, that better place.

The Gap

Come along on a journey with me as I torture more metaphors to get a moot point across. I’ll try to be more more brief, this is just a thought that occured to me the other day.

Are you claustrophobic? Maybe, maybe not. I can’t speak for you. But I can say that I’m not particularly claustrophobic myself. (I will admit I have an irrational fear of waking up in a coffin, buried alive.) It’s not hard to see where the fear comes from though. You’re being confined, not able to move, the world turning inward, a weight is on you from all sides. You can’t escape, panic sets in, and suddenly even the air is too thick to breathe. I think my heartrate just spiked. The other day a few of my friends and I went spelunking. That word makes it sound like we know what we’re doing. Really we just grab some flashlights and go explore some cave system or another. We’d been through this particular cave a few times before. It’s nothing big, maybe an hour to the bottom and an hour back. But we didn’t go all the way down today. One of our party, who is claustrophobic, was getting a little rattled. However, besides exiting the cave with the usual bruises and scrapes, I also left with a new thought. You see, there’s a part in this cave where you squeeze through a pretty small gap. You lay on your back and pull yourself through to the other side using your arms. But there’s a catch; the easiest way through is to exhale and let out all of your breath so that you can fit through. You have to commit and completely pull yourself through (or back out) before you can take any real breaths again. It’s nerve wracking the first time, but you get over it. Again, I can’t speak for you, but you might be thinking: “Why the hell would you do something like that?” The answer is simple, you do it to get to the other side. Of course there’s the adrenaline and all that but the real reward is being able to look behind you and say, “Yes, I made it through.” Is this starting to sound familiar to any of you? A crushing weight is on you, you can’t breathe, you’re trying to pull yourself free. Ringing any bells? I think this metaphor could probably suit most difficult situations, but I think it’s especially apt for coming out. Or at least I imagine so, I’ve yet to pull myself out and breathe the free air. Seeing as there’s really no way to back out now the only way to go is forward. And just like that gap in the cave, nobody can stay there forever. You’d suffocate, I’m suffocating. I can’t live another year stuck between this rock and a hard place. I’m not sure if I’ll make it. There are times that you have you have to just pull yourself out so that you can taste the free air. And from what I hear, it’s supposed to taste pretty sweet.

3 and 4

I have a confession. Not only did I write the blog post about telling my sister already, but I wrote one about recently telling my other friend. Though now I’m not sure if I’ll ever post them. I know, I know, I’m terrible. But it’s taken me a long time to digest my feelings about both of those incidents. I still feel a little overwhelmed, and I definitely don’t feel the same way that I did when I wrote those. I’ll still honor the agreement I made to give the details. Forgive me, because I’m going to abridge both stories for the sake of being brief.

First, my sister. I should tell you that my sister is one of the most moderate people I know. On one side she’s the death penalty favoring, gun owning, small government supporter. Then to match she’s a vegetarian, environmentalist, pro-choice, pseudo socialist. I don’t understand it myself. But she and I are close enough that she could believe the world is flat and it wouldn’t matter to me. Although that didn’t stop me from being discouraged when a week before telling her, on the way home for spring break, she told me her views on gay rights. She didn’t understand why civil partnerships were unacceptable and was very against gay adoption. I did argue with her, but not vehemently enough for her to wonder if there was a reason behind it. Anyway, about a week passes and I’m almost at my deadline. I’m not sure if I’ve just been taking more notice of oddities lately or if the universe has an odd sense of humor. The funny thing is, that Saturday night was almost an exact replay of the night that I told the first person, my friend ‘Ryan’. We were at my same friend’s house drinking the same microbrews and watching British humor movies. When I got home I tried to sleep but the howling of coyotes or wolves outside made it difficult. I finally did doze off, and I had the most vivid dreams. I dreamt that I was trying out for a movie role. But the script was gibberish and those who couldn’t memorize it, including me, were executed by firing squad. I’m not sure what my subconscious was trying to tell me with that one. I didn’t get much sleep that night, but Sunday reared its head all the same.

It was a pretty normal Sunday morning at home. Coffee, grapefruit, raisin bread, bathrobes, Sunday papers, washing cars, etc. About noon my sister and I packed up the car and got on the road. In case you haven’t already guessed, my sister and I go to the same university. It’s about a five hour drive to and from school. I planned to tell my sister at the end of the fourth hour. I’ll admit I was speeding, but it didn’t seem long until those four hours joined my home in the rearview mirror. I had reset the odometer when we last filled up, I told myself that when the mileage struck 234.0 I would pause the music and say my piece. The odometer counted by tenths of a mile and I was staring at that number so intently I’m not sure how I kept the car on the road. I don’t think I was going three hundred and sixty miles per hour at the time, but it seemed like for every second that passed I saw that last number change once and felt my heart beat three times. Suddenly before I had time to even think, the numbers read 234 and I turned down the music.

I asked her if she loved me unconditionally. She became instantly suspicious and asked me why I wanted to know. I asked her if she’d love me if I killed someone. “Yes.” I asked her if she’d love me if I’d gotten a girl pregnant. “Yes.” I asked her if she’d love me if I was gay. “Yes.” I told her one of those things was true. “No.” I eliminated the first two, and she didn’t believe me. After I finally convinced her I was gay, she turned on the waterworks. That was too much for me, and I shut down almost completely. She did said that she still loved me, after it was all said and done. I know she definitely didn't understand right then, I believe she has come around and accepted the idea since then. About a week later she apologised for not taking it better. She said something along the lines of, “Blood is thicker than water and how I handled myself is water under the bridge.” We still almost never talk about it, but at least the matter is settled.

Second, my friend, Ms. #4. All I can say about that is wow. When I woke up the next morning and remembered what I had done the night before it was impossible not to smile. Even though my head was churning like a concrete mixer from the drinks it didn’t spoil my mood. I was on top of the world because I had told person number four. It’s such a small number, look, you only need one hand to count it on your fingers. But if you had asked me a few months ago when I started all of this I would’ve told you that four might as well be a million. You’ll have to forgive me, but the drinks have left my memory of that night foggy to say the least. What I do remember is the feelings. Peace was the predominant one. Some backstory: Basically, I’ve known this girl since back in high school. She’s smart, kind, funny, reasonable, and very open minded. I love her to death. She’s dating my friend that you know as Mike. For the purposes of this story, her name is Kate.

So back when it was still spring break, my friends and I went camping. Tents, campfire, marshmallows, drinks, etc. Kate and I were talking and somehow we got on the topic of secrets. She mentioned that she didn’t have any real secrets to which I replied, “I’m jealous.” “Oh it’s Mr. Mystery over here it seems.” I said I only had one real secret and she’d learn it eventually. “Is it a big secret?” “No. You could probably guess it if you thought about why it’s a secret in the first place.” That’s when the gears started turning. Exactly one week passes. In the wee hours of Saturday morning, right as I was about to drift off to sleep my phone rings. I’ll spare you the details but another of my friends that goes to the same college as Kate decided to drunk dial me. She was at a big party and while we were talking, on the other line I hear, “Who is that?” “It’s Ethan.“ “Ethan?!?!” “Here, Kate wants to talk to you.” We talk on the phone for a while. Blah blah blah. But before ending the conversation she jokingly says, “And I haven’t forgotten about that secret of yours.” “I’m surprised you haven’t pieced it together yet.” “Yeah well, I have a theory but I’d hate to be that jerk that goes and assumes things. Even so, you’d be the same person I’ve known all along.” “Yes. Goodnight, Kate.” She definitely knew. 24 hours pass. It had been a long Saturday night. I had just made sure that a thoroughly hammered Mike made it home. I must have been worse off than I thought because the rest of the night is a blur. My call log says that I was the one that called Kate at two in the morning and the call lasted about an hour. I ended up sitting in a library window and spilling the beans to her. It felt great, it was definitely the easiest and most gratifying coming out I’ve done so far.

Needless to say, I’m insanely lucky to have the friends that I do. Every time I’ve taken that leap, a safety net of support has risen up to kept me from falling down. I suppose that I have no other choice but to keep jumping and have faith that the net will hold. Either that or I could stand on that metaphorical ledge forever. It’s like they say, don’t look down, right? All I can say for now is stay tuned for my next little stunt. Trust in those close to you. Even If they didn’t know that you had stripes, they’ll  probably support you nonetheless. Wear your stripes proudly. It’ll be easier to change people’s minds than change your stripes, because the stripes on a tiger are hard to change.

Face Value

Heaven forbid, here I am content with the writing I did for my english class but the coffee has yet to wear off. I want to take advantage of the time I have now to blog some of the thoughts that have been ricocheting around my head in conjunction with some thoughts that I’ve just had. Hopefully I can make a coherent spiel out of it. Please, don’t interpret this as me trying to coax anyone out of the closet. Not only would that be awfully hypocritical but it would be far from my intention. I mean only to provide food for thought.
The paper I was working on was analyzing the pros and cons of civil disobedience and opinions on it. I was reading a few articles, some of which were a bit dated. Many of them gave instances of civil disobedience and discussed their justifications, and the majority of these cases involved civil rights. Slavery, Woman’s suffrage, African-American segregation, etc. You’ll see disobedience anytime that anyone is offended enough at not getting their fair share. But what is a fair share these days anyway? What do YOU want from the world you’re living in? Respect? Equality? Acceptance? Approval? Do you think you have all of those things? It’s amazing how often people are treated as less than they deserve. It’s not just legally either, it’s more than that. Take Rosa Parks for example, a civil disobedient, she refused to give up her seat on a Montgomery bus that day back when. But what do you think made her more furious: legally having to inconvenience herself and surrender her seat, or being treated as less of a human being than someone else? There are those out there that consider members of the LGBT community as less than human. It’s true, they’re out there. The solution, you might think, is civil disobedience. To crank up the engine for social change and shift it into drive. Alas, lo and behold, the engine won’t turn fast enough, and why? There isn’t enough fuel. There’s not enough power to crest the hill that we’re climbing any time soon. Let me ask you a question, what’s the difference between you and Rosa Parks? Yes, chances are you’re not a middle aged African-American woman living in the 1950s. It’s more likely that you’re a unique variant of the average person living in the 21st century. So if you were sitting comfortably in the front of the bus, and the driver hung a sign that said ‘All LGBT must surrender seats’ would you take your place and stand? What if someone you knew was on the bus? What if you were with your friends? What if you were with your family? Would you still identify yourself and stand? Nobody would know you’re lying if you stay seated. The person next to you looks just as normal. You can avoid persecution and the only price is your inaction. It would take a lot of courage to stand up. This is why there’s no fuel for the engine, no one will stand when it’s so easy to just stay sitting down.  You can’t tell which side of the battle someone is on at face value. While you’re choosing to stay seated on the bus you could have a pleasant conversation about the weather with an anti-LGBT advocate. Or maybe you’re sitting next to your soul mate that you’ll never know because you're both hiding yourselves. We create facades for ourselves out of fear. If our orientation was clear to everyone from birth we might still be marginalized, but we wouldn't be forced to pull the curtain later in life. We wouldn't have to shatter the preconceptions that others have and possibly face the following judgments. We value our momentary freedom from persecution more than the long term elimination of persecution. Progress toward that goal may be slow, but I still have hope. Recently I’ve met people that would stand up on that bus to identify themselves and sit back down to show they won’t take anything less than equal rights. I’ve met people who aren’t even LGBT but are members of the community and would forfeit their seat to stand with any of us. We might be short on fuel for our engine of change, but I think that we’re well supplied with hope.