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.

2

It’s been two weeks now since I told my second person in real life. Even though it didn’t go badly, this time wasn’t quite as easy as the first. I was much more nervous for a variety of reasons, though I can’t totally explain why. Again, I’m sketchy on some of the specific details and don’t quote me on exactly what was said that night.

For the purposes of the story, this friend’s alias will be Mike. So Mike and I are old pals, very old pals. It’s coming up on six or seven years we’ve known each other. Junior high, high school, college, the lot. We’ve been through the thick and thin. Even though we don’t have one of those warm and fuzzy talk about our feelings sorts of relationships, we understand each other. He knows I’d do anything for him, and he would do the same. I couldn’t tell you why I didn’t want to tell him first and told Ryan instead (see previous post). I’m not even sure if I would have told him yet if I wasn’t on a timetable of sorts. You see Ryan, Mike, and I are all moving in together next semester. We’re in progress of finding a place now because we want to sign the lease at the start of the summer. I thought it would be best for him to know before he made any commitments to live under the same roof. I knew that he wouldn’t make a big deal out of it, but I consider it a matter of respect and I needed to do it.

Two weeks ago last night. Like a lot of nights, Mike and Ryan and I had dinner plans. As it happened, Ryan had to leave town on somewhat short notice the earlier that day. After almost drunkenly and unceremoniously blabbing my secret to Mike the past Saturday I had been searching for an opportunity all week. When Ryan canceled I seized the opportunity and told Mike that I still wanted to go to dinner anyway. It was a meal of mediocre Thai food and pleasant conversation recollecting on the good and bad decisions of the previous weekend. We pieced together foggy memories, laughed, and made plans for the next weekend. Later on we found ourselves back at his place because I was picking up some textbooks that I was going to borrow. I was lounging on the couch doing nothing in particular, he was on the computer. The dread was washing over me, wave after wave of gut wrenching thoughts of what I was about to do. I was tense the whole night. Unlike last time, I knew hours in advance and didn’t have any drinks to loosen my tongue. I had texted Ryan earlier and told him not to let me chicken out. After the fourth of so message saying, “Did you do it?” I worked up the courage.

At an appropriate pause in the conversation I took a deep breath and said, “Mike, how long have we known each other?” “A long time” “So, I’d have to do something pretty awful for you to hate me or lose respect for me right?” He turned to look at me and his tone instantly became much more serious. “Where is this going?” It was every bit the reaction I was expecting. “It’s really nothing. No big deal. Not a problem. Nothing bad. Nothing serious. Nothing to worry about.” I was tripping over each word. I was futilely spouting babel because each second I was repeating myself was one more second that I had before saying it. Each word I spoke that was meaningless was a word that wasn’t one of those two I dreaded to say. I was dancing around the truth that was right there. He was still looking at me. “Well... I’m gay.” Unlike the first time that I spoke those words to someone, the response was almost immediate. “Well that’s a horrible look on your face.” With all of the situations I imagined in my head, I never once imagined him saying that. I realized that my face had a horrified grimace on it, which probably made me look like a guillotine was about to come down on my head. Trying to relax I cracked an awkward smile. I managed to say, “Yeah, well...” He had long since gone back to doing what he had been doing on the computer and said, “I won’t say that I hadn’t thought about it once or twice.” It’s funny, Ryan was totally floored when I told him, but I almost think Mike saw it coming. He’s not easily surprised to begin with. After that he got quiet. I elaborated on why I told him, that Ryan knew, why I picked that night etc. It was especially awkward for a moment there when I tried to explain why I told Ryan first and I didn’t really have any good reasons. I don’t think Mike was upset, he doesn’t really get upset, but I could tell he was curious. The conversation was unfortunately mostly one sided. Although, he did say one thing that I remember perfectly. It could have been the only thing he said for all I care. “I don’t see that it changes anything.” to which I replied, “Really?” He nodded, “You’re shaking.” It was my turn to nod, “I know.” After the short interchange was finished I picked up the books and thanked him. It wasn’t the books I was thankful for in that moment. On my way back I texted Ryan saying ‘Done’. The reply came back, ‘Atta boy.’

Out

Well here we are, I’ve neglected to tell this story for a while even though it’s now rapidly becoming old news for a few of us. Some of the details are crystal clear in my mind while others escape me. My memory isn’t perfect and these conversations here are not what was said verbatim. Forgive me if I leave out some detail or become unclear, words aren’t really my strong suit and often fail me.
It was a dark and stormy night, literally. A snowstorm had rolled in the previous day and stayed there, as they often do back home, and we were coming up on 8” of snow. It was the Sunday before most of our friends headed back to school so we had arranged to meet up. My friend had a keg of IPA that was on it’s last legs and was going to go flat soon so we did what any good friends would do and helped her out. The five of us made dinner, drank beer, and watched a movie. At the end of the night we had some hard goodbyes and we parted ways. Because of the weather I said that I would take my friend, let’s call him Ryan, home. Ryan and I live in a sort of suburb that’s about fifteen or twenty minutes from town. The length of the drive was exacerbated by the road conditions, which were poor, but nothing I hadn’t seen many times before. Like I said before, the idea of coming out had hit me right before finals week last semester. I knew that I had been acting a little differently since the idea struck me, but I didn’t think anyone had noticed until Ryan said something. I guess saying goodbye to my friends sort of compounded with the funk I was already in and it was enough for him to ask that question. “Has something been on your mind lately?” 
Before I go on let me get some back story in here first. I’ve known Ryan for years, we even go to school together. I had already decided that I was going to tell him first and had tried two days earlier and bailed out. I got to the point where in my best ‘I have something to discuss’ voice I said, “Hey, Ryan?” “Yeah? What’s up?” “...Well..........nevermind, it’s nothing.” “I’m not sure if it really is...” “It can wait, just nevermind.” “Are you sure?” “Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll tell you later.” That incident was probably also a contributing factor in his asking. 
So there we were, driving through the snow in the middle of the night. Just as the tires sank into the snow my heart sank in my chest. I was staring at the disappearing tracks in the snow made by the last car to drive the road and he was looking right at me waiting for an answer. I might have shrugged it off and evaded the question like before but I think my tongue was still a little loose from the beer. I knew that this was going to be it, but I didn’t just come out and say it. I asked him, “Do you think ignorance is bliss?” “What do you mean?” “If you had a choice whether or not to know something that might change your opinion or change our friendship, would you really want to know?” (pause) “Ignorance is highly overrated. I think the truth, no matter what it is, is always better. Always. Why though? You didn’t go and kill someone, did you?” After some assurances that I hadn’t killed anyone or done anything morally objectionable we were almost to his house. We both knew time was up and he said, “Well, last chance to get this off your chest.” I was shaking, my palms were sweaty, I felt sick. We came around the corner and his house was in sight. “I’m gay.” 
An hour passed in that moment. I felt the 4-wheel drive working, I counted the lights on the street, I read the street sign and translated it to English, I felt like I could hear the cylinders in the V8 in front of me firing one by one. Then Ryan looked away from me and simply said, “Oh...” Then a lifetime passed. All of the ‘what ifs’ that i had conceived and a few more started ricocheting behind my eyes. I thought I was going to go crazy in my own head. He looked back at me and said, “Really?” I forced myself to nod tentatively and the word that fell from my mouth was, “Yep.” The car came to a stop in front of his house with some mild help from the ABS. Again, “Oh...” But this time he followed it up with, “Well that’s cool.” The relief that washed over me felt at least twice as good as the breath of air I finally allowed myself to take. The rest of the conversation was still a little strained and odd but it felt great to be open. For the next twenty or thirty minutes we talked while watching snowflakes fall and melt on the windshield. Truthfully I think he did most of the talking. We talked about how long I’d known, why I picked him first, who else I was going to tell, how certain people would take the same news, why he was surprised, and a variety of other topics. Eventually, we had to split ways. He opened the door and stepped outside. He looked at me and said, “I’m the same person that you knew an hour ago, and you’re the same person that I knew. I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Thank you.” He just nodded and shut the door. After a moment of sitting in silence I turned on my headlights and the windshield wipers. All the water and slush that had accumulated was swept away. I could see the road in front of me clearly and after I took a deep breath and chuckled to myself, I peeled out.