"I can’t recall a recent situation which has made me feel like these words did."

[Ed. Note: Andrea Patiño Contreras, an awesome friend and huge ally, sent this to me to be posted on the blog. We all pretty much knew she was The Greatest already, but it's officialer now? Right? I think that works. Anyhow, sweet post! Thanks for sharing!]

I am currently in Accra, Ghana, studying Cultural Anthropology and travelling around. Over the past week I have been staying at a really nice host family and though transitioning to Ghanaian life from American and Colombian lifestyles has been a little hard, I have finally been able to get used to a lot of the new things I have encountered. Sunday morning, however, I had a very upsetting experience that I thought I wanted to share with all of you.

My host mom, Aunt Vic, is a wonderful old lady. She is very (very) religious and as the head of the house, there are many practices in the house that involve praying, going to church, studying the Bible etc. I am not entirely sure what her denomination is, but it is some sort of Christian charismatic something. I knew that they go to church every Sunday, and I also knew (as I had been told by the other exchange students staying here) that Sunday church, plus school, plus Bible study, would take up to four hours. My roommate and I (none of us particularly religious) had decided we wanted to go to church because we knew it was important for the family and because we were, to a certain, extent expected to do so.

When we arrived we were guided into a crowded room where we sat on our own. The rest of the family members were scattered all over the room. I had known about this service for some days now and I had been preparing myself to be able to be there for four hours and to deal with a lot of things that I knew could upset me. Nonetheless, I was completely willing to see what it was like and I went in with my most open mind.

Though I was feeling absolutely uncomfortable at the beginning, after an hour of singing and dancing to cool-sounding songs about God and Jesus, I started to give in and try to dance and cope with what was going on around me. By then I was happy and thinking to myself what a great time these people have compared to the boring and stiff (no offense) Catholic services I had grown up with. This was a happy party.

However, as the sermon started things started to change. Though I knew I was going to be told that sex is a sin and all that, I wasn’t ready to hear that I should “shut down all the sinful people I know from my life, like those who are lesbians, or homosexuals, or drunks”. When I heard that I felt that my heart was about to explode a little and that I got really red and rolled my eyes and shook my head. I can’t recall a recent situation which has made me feel like these words did. I wanted to stand up and leave but I didn’t want to be a shame to my host family or be rude, especially in a place where I was one of the three white people in the room (an interesting point here as I am considered to be “white” here, while in the U.S. I am never seen as white but Hispanic). Anyways, it felt really bad, but I stayed listening to the rest of the sermon which by then was feeling like pure crap (again, no offense).

Half an hour later, the offering time came. I was too enraged and of course, I would never give money to a place that promotes intolerance and triggers discrimination and damages society in the way in which this sermon was doing it. However, as the only white people in the room we were easily pointed at and we were expected to give something. I just sat there with my roommate and pretended to be indifferent, but people around us were asking and demanding money. Then the minister looked straight into my eyes and asked me where my offering was, and people in the two rows in front me turned around asking the same question. I wasn’t going to give money. Instead of saying I didn’t have any I told the woman in front of me I simply didn’t have an envelope (which all the others were using to put their money in). Bad idea! They brought me one of course. I hid it in my purse and pretended to forget, but ten minutes later the people gossiping in the front row asked me for it.

When I gave it (1 GCD = less than 1 dollar) I simply wanted to cry. I stood there and my eyes got so watery. I didn’t want people around me to think that I was actually inspired by all this. I felt that I completely betrayed myself, all my friends and people I love who support and who are part of the LGBT community. It really felt awful and I was so angry at myself for not being able to say no. There was so much pressure in the church though, but I still think that that is not an excuse for not standing on my feet and stand for my principles. I know it was sort of my small incident, but it really hit me hard. I thought though, that sharing it with you all would be the best way of redeeming myself.

Yeah, but it IS about sex.

There’s something that’s been bothering me for a while about homophobia.

It gets mentioned here and there in writings—someone notices how inappropriate it is that as soon as people think of same-sex couples, they picture two guys getting in on and are immediately disgusted, whereas with straight people, that’s not the case.

I’ve always been careful to make a distinction between homosexuality itself and any particular sex act. Being Catholic, I have a hard time with the “love the sinner, hate the sin” mantra, but it helps me keep the two apart—something I think more people need to do.

See, it shouldn’t matter, but there’s a huge difference between being gay and having sex with people of the same gender. They can’t be the same thing because they’re not even in the same category. Gay is an adjective, a descriptor, something that people might happen to be. And sexual activity is none of anyone’s business. That’s it. Case closed.

The video posted on the blog a few weeks ago about homophobia and anti-gay violence in Uganda was deeply disturbing. But it bothered me primarily because the tactics being used by these politicians and religious leaders are awfully misleading. Whether or not the activities like “eating poo-poo” in gross-out videos are common among the community is none of anyone’s business. The problem is, Uganda is debating sex when it thinks it’s debating homosexuality. If the law is against homosexuals, then they need to be talking about homosexuality, not sex, and those videos have no place in such an argument.

Now let’s talk about progress. Stateside, the issue of whether homosexuality is moral or immoral, largely, doesn’t matter. All reasonably reasonable people agree that there’s no issue there (I mean, sure, this is contentious, but my point assumes this, so if you have issues here, let me know, but I’m moving on). But if people don’t find being gay problematic, then what they really find problematic is gay sex—and it strikes me as though if people find this problematic, it tells me two things about them: [one], that they’re really breaching the privacy of gay couples every time they think about the issue (weird, isn’t it?) and/or [two], that there’s really an unhealthy level of obsession with gay sex, even among the homophobes. People say that homosexuality is the issue, not sex. But I don’t agree. If you have a problem with The Gays (and Lesbians and Bisexuals and the Queer and Transgendered communities), it’s because you’re violating our privacy by picturing us in bed together (or, God forgive your dirty mind, in bed with you).

If you don’t like it, don’t think about it. Pretty simple solution. If you can’t do that, then figure out what makes you so obsessed with gay sex and get past it. Homosexuality != (does not equal!) gay sex. It’s a fact. It’s no business of anyone’s whether I’m sexually active or not. If I have a boyfriend, is it reasonable to assume we’re having sex? Well, no, but we don’t think about these things with straight couples. Why should we for gay ones? It just doesn’t matter, folks! Move along!

Everyone agrees that friendship, intimacy, and love are all pretty good things, regardless of gender. So, homophobes (especially the ones in my extended family), just honor me this request. When you fondle, kiss, or otherwise show affection in public, I think it’s great. I am an enormous fan of PDA and, generally, seeing examples of love in the world. But I do not, and will not, picture you having sex. It doesn’t (and shouldn’t) happen. When I see your babies, I don’t picture you conceiving them. All I ask is that you do the same for me.

If you find yourself disgusted by thoughts of gay couples, then get your prying mind out of the bedroom and expand your definitions of love.

(note: I just realized I posted this as BDU, rather than my account. I’ve already multi-linked here, so I can’t change that now, but know that this post comes from/represents Matt Lyons and not Blue Devils United)

Eviction

A high school friend of mine is getting kicked out of her house soon. Her mother has told her that as soon as she turns 18 she is no longer welcome there. Ever. Verbatim, this woman told her daughter that she is disgusting, that she wasn’t raised to be like this, that God hates her, and that she would rather see her dead.

All because she likes girls.

You see, her mother found one of her journals where she keeps all her ideas for stories and recounts some thoughts or events she’s had that day. Then follows three angry voice mails, an early pick up from school, a smashed cell phone, and an extremely heated argument. Now my friend’s only hope for reconciling with her mother is to take an online, ex-gay course… and then bury her true feelings until she breaks or her mother passes.

Hearing my friend tell me this, it gave me such a sick feeling in my stomach. I tried to see it from a parental point of view: I have a child, a beautiful baby girl. I raise her for almost 18 years, watching her go through school, seeing her graduate, and remembering things like her first steps, her first words, play dates, story time, soccer games, movie nights, prom... And no matter which way I turn it in my mind, no matter what scenario I fit to it, I simply cannot fathom telling this child, my child, that she is disgusting, that I would rather she were dead.

This isn’t the first time I’ve seen this happen. I’ve known kids who’ve run away from home, or worse, for this reason before. Their parents find a hidden note, or they snoop on their computers at night, or listen in on a phone conversation. Some are tossed out immediately. Others suffer neglect or abuse until they can’t stand it anymore. I’ve sat in a restaurant and heard my step-mother say “One day, an earthquake is gonna send California out to sea, and it will sink, as God’s wrath against the homosexuals.” Because obviously, all gays are in California and all Californians are gay. It’s absurd.

Why is homophobia strong enough to drive some parents to feel this way about their children? Is it because they won’t have grandkids now? Science has become advanced enough that gayness is no longer a deterrent for continuing the bloodline. Is it the social stigma, the ageless prejudice? Maybe. Especially here in the South you find parents who, if not religiously inclined, have been taught that it is morally deplorable for so long it just sticks. Unfortunately, it seems religion is one of the stronger forces driving these feelings. My friend is getting kicked out of her house because her mother believes without a doubt that homosexuality is a sin. That God hates the homosexuals, so the only thing to do is change her daughter, or excommunicate her.

It is my belief, deep down, that even the God so many quote against us would disagree with this woman. The Bible preaches many things but the common motif is always Love. Unfortunately, this is too often overlooked. What happened to “love thy neighbor”? Where is “love the sinner, hate the sin”? Why is another girl, a child, being thrown from her home and her family because of who she loves? Homophobia is something I’ve seen so long it doesn’t really surprise me anymore, but to the point where you will hate your own children, cast them out like so many used napkins… I hope there never comes a time when I understand that.

Soon-to-be Camp Counselor; Always an Ally

After being home for the past few weeks, I’m getting ready to leave to work at a Jewish, outdoor adventure, overnight camp (Ramah Outdoor Adventure). I like to think of it as Boy Scout camp meets Judaism (and girls). The camp opens this summer and is the latest initiative by Ramah—the official summer camp organization of the Conservative Movement of Judaism (not to be confused with conservatism in American politics).

I had the great fortune of being a camper at Ramah Darom (in Georgia) for several summers. Experiences from camp, along with relationships with my peers and my counselors/other staff members, played a very pivotal role in my life. Over the years I had counselors who were always there to listen, counselors who challenged me, counselors who believed in me, counselors who reminded me to not take life too seriously, counselors who showed me the ins-and-outs of Judaism, counselors who shared my passions, counselors who were my friends, and counselors who modeled for me what it meant to embrace my full self (eccentricities included). I know firsthand the power that a counselor can have on a camper looking for a role model or a mentor.

The campers I’ll have this summer are mostly rising 8th-10th graders (though I'll also work with rising 6th/7th graders and families). They’re old enough that they’re “real people,” but that also means that they’re tenuously trying to navigate their lives: their sense of self, their peer group, and their values, just to name a few. [Any readers extra-eager to re-live those years? ‘Cause, uhhh, you won’t find me volunteering for the chance.] I am excited, however, to be their friend and I hope to have a lasting impression. In this way, it’s important to me that I’m visible.

I want every camper to feel safe, valued and respected. I want every camper to know that I am her or his ally. I want any camper who is out in other areas of her or his life to be comfortable being out at camp. I want any camper who is still in the closet to know that I’m on her or his side and that she or he can talk to me in confidence (for that matter, I hope a camper who is out feels comfortable talking to me about any issues that arise). I want any camper who is in the closet to feel that camp is a supportive environment where she or he can safely begin her or his coming out process (I recognize that the three immediately preceding points are easier said than done).

Even if there is not a single LGBT-identified camper (either in or out of the closet), there are still messages I hope to impart. I want every camper to understand that Conservative Judaism does not condemn LGBT-identified members of our community. On the contrary, The Seminary will admit and ordain openly gay and lesbian-identified individuals [the current Jewish law does not address trans nor bisexual rabbis]. Last but not least, I want every camper to leave camp thinking that being an ally and standing up against homophobia are “cool” and feeling empowered to act accordingly.

[These are, maybe obviously, not my only goals as a counselor; rather, goals I’ve given very deliberate thought to for months. I also, perhaps predictably, want to be a beacon of feminism (a loaded goal which I won't unpack here); I want to be there for my campers to listen about any issue they may be facing—not just LGBT themed struggles; I want to imbue my campers with self confidence; I want to help them to reach their personal goals; I want to help them to strengthen their Jewish identity; I want to facilitate them making relationships among themselves; I want them to learn to be comfortable with themselves.]

That all sounds real swell, but creating a safe space, making myself approachable and empowering campers to speak up will not just happen by mere virtue of me being a counselor. It takes deliberate actions. So, how will I do this? And, how can I do this without overstepping a boundary of being overly “political” in my role as a counselor?

The second question first: There are plenty of ways to stand up for LGBT issues without invoking the politics of today. I can’t say whether the issue of marriage or Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell will come up—though if it does, it will be because a camper initiated the conversation. However, I don’t believe (and I think that the readers of the blog will agree with me) that affirming the worth of any of my campers is “political.”

To create this type of environment, though, I must be visible. Some actions, by their very virtue, will be reactive, while I can do others at anytime. Hopefully, nothing occurs which would force me to intervene. However, I will do my best to be aware of situations which may arise. For instance, when used, I will speak up against homophobic slang and facilitate conversations about the role of language. If it happens, I will question why someone’s sexuality was a qualifying adjective to a story. If a camper is out of the closet, I will be sure to pay close attention as to how this is perceived by his or her cabinmates. If an issue arises, I will be quick to act in his or her defense [this is, I believe, a situation especially unique unto overnight camp, since living space isn't typically intimately shared until college]. Similarly, I will pay close attention to if a camper's gender expression or perceived sexual orientation becomes the target of his or her peers and will act accordingly if necessary. This may sound like I'm expecting the worst, but really I'm optimistic that the most reactive I'll have to be is to everyday slang [no homo(phobia)].

Other things I can do start on the very first day. I will do my best to use affirming and inclusive language. I will proudly don my Love=Love and no homo(phobia) shirts. I will wear my BDU silicone bracelet and I will display a rainbow sticker on my nalgene and a rainbow ribbon on my backpack. Perhaps most importantly given the nature of the camp as observantly Jewish, I will be prepared to the best of my ability to answer questions and present information about LGBT issues and Judaism.

I should note that I was excited to see "sexual preference" included in our anti-discrimination policy. I could be critical of the outdated language (sexual preference vs. sexual orientation), but I'm just glad to know that the directors of the camp are forward thinking, aware of these issues, and dedicated to seeing that homophobia not be part of our camp culture. I have every reason to believe that this was not just included in the policy as an empty formality, but a genuine concern. In fact, last summer (at a week for potential staff members) I recall having a conversation about homophobia with our director; he also "liked" a link to my Day of Silence post on facebook.

I'm excited for the challenges that await me--personally, Jewish-ly, and professionally--and I'm excited to expand the ways in which I speak out against homophobia. Like Veronica’s “informal research,” I look forward to reporting back to you about my experiences.

But first, Readers, I'd like to learn from you what your experiences have been as a camp counselor or a camper. How did you see homophobia manifest itself? What are ways that you addressed it? What positive stories can you share about being out at camp (as a camper or counselor)? Please help me to be the best that I can be this summer!

[Sports related blogs will be posted during the next few months while I’m away. Please note, however, that I’ll be mostly unable to engage with you in the comments section. The camp at which I will be a counselor has very limited internet service!]

The Gay Confessional

My first confession: I’m really excited to be a part of this LGBT community here at Duke! For those of you who don’t know, I identify as a queer woman, but I only just started going to the Center at the end of last fall semester hoping to find something that affirmed that what I felt for women wasn’t unique. And I was pleasantly surprised! Not only did I find a group of Duke students that I found to be friendly, energetic, and genuine, I finally had a medium to admit (to myself) and to my peers who I am.

My second confession: I’m not really out. Because while I’ve been able to tell most of my closest friends that I’m gay, by no means have I had the time to tell all of them. What stops me? Couldn’t I just tell them all tomorrow and be done with it? Something stops me. Is it their repetitive usage of “no homo lol” after they hugged me on the Quad? Is it the sorority bag that they carry on their way into our mutual classes? Is it their Christianity, or in the case of many of my friends, their Catholicism?

Or maybe it’s just me. My experience would tell me that this last reason is most accurate. Just a few weeks ago I came out to one of my closest Catholic friends. This woman is my role model-she attends daily Mass like it’s class, she prays the rosary more times in a week than I take a shower (I shower daily for anyone who just doubted my cleanliness) and she just all-around embodies someone who has dedicated her life to Catholicism.

So it happened over lunch. Somehow the conversation quickly turned to, “Why don’t you date [insert boy’s name here]? You two are so perfect for each other!” As I sat there with my mouth ajar, she continued: “No Megan, seriously! I need to know the reason why! Because I can’t understand why you two wouldn’t be dating.”

The golden window of opportunity had just opened. I sit there, stunned. Did this just happen? These kinds of moments in your life don’t happen very often. I close my eyes and frantically try to race the pros and cons in my head: “Is this the right moment? She’s one of my closest friends.” I know I’ll kick myself later if I mess this up. I look around the Refectory tables and I get a gut instinct: “just do it," something inside of me says.

All of this time, I can’t help thinking-“but she’s Catholic, she’s really Catholic.” [Disclaimer: For those of you who don’t know the Catholic Church’s position on LGBT issues, the Church holds that gay people should be embraced and accepted in the church as fellow Catholics, but it condemns gay sexual acts.]

Anyway… So I just decide to go for it and tell her: “Well… I don’t want to date him because…I’m gay”. Before I have the opportunity to keep talking, she smiles and says, “that’s okay!!! That’s totally fine!” I feel like a baseball just hit me out of left field. Wait, I ask myself, does that mean she’s okay with it? And not just okay with it, but she’s smiling, and she’s glad I told her?!

That’s when I learned what I should have learned when I was a little girl. Those who care about you will always care about you. Those who matter don’t mind. She mattered. And so, she didn’t mind.

For all the “what-if-they-don’t-like-me-as-much-because-now-they-know-I’m-gay” worries that I had floating around in my head, I’m only recently starting to realize that I don’t need to anticipate that negativity. This Friday I came out to another one of my close friends over lunch, and she gave me wise advice. She said, “I find that there are perfect people in the world, and then there are people with problems. Honestly, I find that everyone always likes the people with problems better than the perfect people.” That made me smile. =) Now, being gay is by no means a problem-it’s a beautiful part of human sexuality. But her gist holds true universally-that people tend to like real, honest people better. And it has been my experience that with each new person I come out to, not only have I grown much closer to them, but I finally am able to anticipate positive reactions, because that’s all I’ve gotten. Coming out this past month has made me much more confident, stronger and oh-so-much wiser.

As I left lunch with that friend, she sent me a text that I think hits this point home: “I think it’s funny that I was sitting there worried you’d judge me for living with my boyfriend next year and you were worried I’d judge you for being gay. I anticipate we will face similar irony each time we tell someone new! I’m proud of you Megan!”

So, does that mean starting to come out has been easy? Absolutely not. There are going to be ignorant people wherever I go. But what I want you to know, (yes you reading this blog), is that despite the initial difficulties in coming out that I’ve experienced internally, all of them combined together do not even BEGIN to outweigh the amazing benefits that I’ve received since coming out. I know that my experience will not be like everyone’s, but the feeling of liberation, the thought of maybe finally being able to date someone who I’m crazy about (oh my gosh?!!! :), and the knowledge that I am finally being honest with people, has all just felt amazing.

I’ve learned two great things from coming out. If this starts sounding preachy, I profusely apologize. (I thought they were worth mentioning!)

First, I’m seeing that friends love you. They don’t just like you. Like implies that it could stop. I could like vanilla today, but I might like chocolate better tomorrow. My likes waver and change.

But my loves don’t. There’s something about a love that never dies inside of you-it is that trick birthday candle that you just can’t put out. I have been given this unique and blessed opportunity to see that my friends love me, for me. Not for the person that they thought I was, or for the person that they wanted me to become, but for me. Their love doesn’t change, and it doesn’t waver, no matter if that’s a “straight” Megan or a gay Megan. And that opportunity, to see that kind of loyalty, love and friendship has been really self-affirming.

The other equally greatest part of starting to come out has been coming to the Center (like I mentioned above!). It’s a whole community of people, gay and straight, who think just like you, and who affirm that you are okay just the way you are, right now. So that’s why I’d like to encourage you to come by the Center too! I was just talking to someone earlier today who told me, “oh, I know a lot of queer people, they just don’t come to the Center. Well, I really hope we can change that. If you don’t want to go to the Center by yourself, please find me on Facebook and 1) friend me (Megan Weinand), and 2) shoot me a message that says, “Hey, come to Fab Friday with me?” or even better, “Please come to BDU meetings with me." Trust me, I won’t think you’re weird. The only thing I’ll be is just so thrilled that you’re coming. =)

So these are the greatest things about coming out. But you know what? I’m only just starting. It’d be a lot cooler if you’d do it too. Come out with me.

A Lunchtime Conversation with Activist and Openly Bisexual Legislator Kyrsten Sinema

Interested in politics? Learning about the ONLY campaign which defeated an anti-same sex marriage initiative? Talking with an openly bisexual public official? Learning about how to build coalitions to advance an LGBT-friendly agenda? Want to talk about growing up in a conservative, religious family?

Then join Blue Devils United and the Center for LGBT Life for a lunchtime conversation with bisexual state legislator and activist Kyrsten Sinema!
NEXT MONDAY, FEBRUARY 22 @ 11:30 AM in the LGBT Center (02 West Union)
Lunch is generously being sponsored by the Center for LGBT Life and Blue Devil’s United (please RSVP to Risa Isard at rfi@duke.edu)

Raised in a conservative Mormon home, Kyrsten Sinema is openly bisexual and serves as a member of the Arizona Legislature. In her third term as a member of the House of Representatives she has declared her intent to run for the state Senate in the forthcoming election.

One of her most notable accomplishments was chairing the 2006 campaign called Arizona Together—the first and only successful effort in the country to defeat an anti-same-sex marriage ballot initiative. Currently, she serves on Obama’s national healthcare reform group. Kyrsten is the Board President of Community Outreach and Advocacy for Refugees and also serves on the board for the YWCA of Maricopa County. She is the recipient of awards for her political leadership, including the NAACP Civil Rights Award, AZ Hispanic Community Forum Friend of the Year, Planned Parenthood Legislative CHOICE Award, Sierra Club’s Most Valuable Player, and the AZ Public Health Association Legislator of the Year

Kyrsten holds both a law degree and a Master’s degree in Social Work from Arizona State University, and is currently pursuing her Ph.D. in the School of Justice and Social Inquiry at ASU. She is an adjunct professor in the School of Social Work at ASU and practices law when not in session. Kyrsten also serves as faculty for the Center for Progressive Leadership, teaching tomorrow’s community leaders about the political process.

Kyrsten’s first book, Unite and Conquer: How to Build Coalitions that Win and Last, was released in July 2009 by Berrett-Koehler Publishers.

Lunch is generously being provided by the LGBT Center and Blue Devils United.

Her visit is made possible by Blue Devils United, Duke Democrats and Duke NOW.

Homosexuality vs. Religion

Hello. For my first blog post I had no idea what to write. I was sitting in my room tapping the keyboard uselessly, and then a book on my shelf with a little rainbow sticker caught my eye, and this post was born.

Being gay comes with no small amount of controversy. Most societies today choose to frown upon same-sex couples, never really understanding the situation from our point of view. It’s tough, it really is, dealing with the social jibes, unjust laws, and personal prejudices, but for those of us who belong to a faith that condemns homosexuality, it could be even worse. It’s one thing for others to dislike who you’re attracted to, it’s quite another when you dislike yourself for it.

I remember when I was in middle school and I started to realize that I was attracted to other guys. I was terrified. Raised Lutheran, with both parents converting to Southern Baptists after the divorce, I had heard passages from the Bible that condemned homosexuals as innately evil, hell-bound devil worshippers (I’m paraphrasing from an old pastor). It’s a difficult concept for a 13 year old to deal with, the idea that God created you as you are/everything you are is as God made you, and at the same time facing the gate of Hell for something you have no control over: who you love.

I’m sure this has been an issue for many gay men and women. The thing that helped me, though was a book called The God Box, by Alex Sanchez. I had never before felt so connected to a main character. Alex Sanchez is a gay fiction writer whose novels are all gay teenage coming-of-age stories, and in this was one about a young, deeply religious boy named Paul who was trying to cure his own homosexuality. The story starts when Paul befriends a young Christian transfer student named Manuel who is openly and proudly gay. All of Paul’s preconceived notions about homosexuality, and the more famously used Bible verses to refute same-sex relationships, are put in a different perspective, until he is finally able to accept himself for who he is. This book made me realize that you don’t have to either be gay or be Christian. Religion and sexuality are only in conflict if people are taught that they are in conflict. All of my fears and sense of self-loathing vanished in a single sentence:

“The Bible was meant to be a bridge, not a wedge. It must be read with love as the standard. Anyone who expects a person to change something as personal as who they hold in their arms at night need to change their own judgmental attitude.”

If anyone reading this has ever struggled or is struggling with sexuality and religion, I hope it helped at least a little bit. Thanks for reading.

Merry Christmas! Have some judgment.

Yayayayay it’s Christmas! Almost. It’s a time of homecoming: families and friends are reunited and we show our love for each other with gifts. It’s also a religious holiday, which is a mixed bag for me. I put on a nice face and sing at church and wonder what people would think if they knew.

Ugh. You’d think I'd be past that by now. But no.

It's not entirely surprising. I’m out to all of my immediate family, and slowly to some of the less immediate ones, but it’s always hard to know what you can and can’t say (or wear—I brought all of my Love=Love shirts home, if only to annoy my sister. I wore it a few times last year while tutoring at an elementary school and was somewhat uncomfortable, but the school didn’t have a problem with it, so neither did I). My mother told me that she had recently told her sister(-in-law) and that her reaction had been something along the line of, “Oh, I’m sorry to hear he’s made that choice.” Which I’m not even for a moment going to pretend isn’t hugely offensive. It isn’t as though this particular woman doesn’t know me. I’ve stayed at her house probably a dozen times now and our family often spent Thanksgiving with hers.

I don’t know exactly what happened after that; hopefully my parents stood up for me, as they apparently did in another similar incident in which the folks said “love the sinner, hate the sin.” To which I simply respond with incredulity: I mean, you’ve already implicated yourselves in prejudice. You’re on a roll. Why not keep going?

At first I thought it had something to do with how exactly my parents were telling them. Tone of voice says a lot, as do the exact circumstances in which you tell them. If you treat it as a big deal, so will they. If you don’t, well, they’ll probably be so surprised by your cavalierism (It's a word. Promise.) they won’t get to show you their lack of acceptance.

So that's something I’ve been working on lately: casually introducing jokes or sexuality–relevant bits of discussion into conversation so that my family doesn’t treat it as such a big deal. We’ll see if it works (get back to you soon on that!).

It can be difficult with the family though—or, in general, with people who aren’t used to talking about it as much as I am. Last weekend I went to Portland to visit the only other guy from my high school class who’s come out. When I told my mom this, she made it sound like a disease: “Oh, so he's also…gay?” Yes, mother.

Additionally, it’s just kind of hard to talk about with my sister and brother–in–law, both of whom are fairly conservative Catholic (we’re all Catholic, but most of us aren’t quite as strictly traditional as those two). I’ve easily had eight hours of discussions of LGBT–related issues with the two of them, and after all that, my brother-in-law said, “Well, I guess I’m still just not sure that it isn’t a choice.” Which is, I hope, understandably frustrating to hear. But what do I say to that? It seems so obvious to me that no one would wish this upon themselves that I just don’t know what to say next—not that having it be undesirable means it’s not a choice, but there’s also a preponderance of evidence suggesting that it’s a natural thing.

There’s just such a huge range of how comfortable different people can be with it or talking about it that it can make communication difficult. For now, I do what I can for my family, sending them links to blog entries or news stories which have meant a lot to me and hoping they’ll get around to reading them. In a day or two they’ll all be around; I’m hoping to get them to that next level of comfort, and if they’re not ready for it, it’ll just be their responsibility to talk with me privately about it.

There’s no instruction manual to all this “being gay” business (though a friend tells me I can learn almost anything from the Golden Girls, so might have to give them a try). I hate that and I love it. But it’s part of my life. It’s not an opt-in thing; it will always be there, whether I like it or not. I think I like it.

But that’s just personal stuff. Forget about it. It is Christmas, after all. Let’s be friends and family and enjoy each other’s company. I hope all of you, dear readers and fellow contributors, have a wonderful holiday season, whether you celebrate Christmas, Hanukkah, Festivus, or anything else. Happy birthday, Jesus.

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Gay Catholics Blast NJ Bishops: A gay Roman Catholic group has denounced a letter that New Jersey Catholic bishops circulated in opposition to marriage equality.

“Whatever the New Jersey bishops are trying to do around the issue of marriage has nothing to do with justice,” reads a statement from the Rainbow Sash Movement. “One of the most basic concepts that underline all Catholic teaching is that ‘All people are entitled to equality of rights regardless of their situation.’ This fundamental position cannot be dismissed in the name of religious rigidity. To do so is to throw foundational Catholic tradition out the window in the name of intolerance and the narrowness of dogma.”

Late last month New Jersey bishops asked priests to read or distribute a letter asking parishioners to pray that the state legislature would not approve marriage rights for gay couples. The bishops called the possibility of same-sex marriage “one of the most serious challenges” to the traditional definition of marriage. The state senate is expected to vote on a marriage equality bill this week, after which the assembly would consider it.

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Episcopal Diocese of Los Angeles elects openly gay bishop: "The Episcopal Diocese of Los Angeles today elected the first openly gay bishop since the national church lifted a ban that sought to bar gays and lesbians from the church's highest ordained ministry.

Clergy and lay leaders, meeting in Riverside for their annual convention, elected the Rev. Canon Mary D. Glasspool, 55, who has been in a committed relationship with another woman since 1988. Another gay candidate, the Rev. John L. Kirkley of San Francisco, withdrew late Friday.

Glasspool’s election to fill one of two openings for bishops of the diocese followed the selection Friday of the Rev. Canon Diane Jardine Bruce, 53, the rector of a San Clemente church. The two became the first women elected as bishops of the diocese in its 114-year history."

Rainbows, Buttons, Flags, and Umbrellas

It's been a rainy semester here at Duke. As a result, I've become quite the connoisseur of umbrellas. I have one for light, daily use (black), one for heavy rain and heavy wind (blue and white), and a recent acquisition: one for everything in between (rainbow-colored). And while the heavy blue-and-white umbrella is by far the most durable choice, I've tended to choose to tout the rainbow umbrella. First, because it's pretty (there's a pic farther down!). Second, because, well, I want to be visible.

When I came out, it really took a while for me to decide how big a part of my identity it was--it's a daily process, really--okay, so I'm gay--what's next? Following the bridge incident this year, Blue Devils United ordered rainbow flags for students to put up outside their windows to show support for and solidarity with the LGBT community. I put mine in the window itself, so when I have my lights on it looks kind of like stained glass from the outside (photo: Oli Wilson). I think it's really important to show people that this is campus that's affirming of LGBT individuals (or even if that's not entirely the case, I think that if we give off that image, it will gradually become a self-fulfilling thing). It's the same with the Love=Love shirts.

Each year on National Coming Out Day, the LGBT Center, in cooperation with the various LGBT groups on campus, gives out free Love=Love shirts in various colors--1500 shirts a year. They're usually gone within an hour or two. LGBTQA students, faculty, grad students, and community members wear the shirts around campus. It's a pretty rare day when I don't see at least two people wearing them and it's really heartwarming to see them.


Visibility is something I think about and struggle with a lot. If I wear my Love=Love shirt to yoga, will I be labeled gay for the rest of the semester? Will doubles yoga forever be awkward? (well, okay, doubles yoga is pretty awkward anyway, but whatever.)

Earlier this semester, when it was pouring and I was stuck in the Bryan Center without an umbrella, I bought the new (rainbow) one so I could walk home without getting soaked. I had seen a friend carrying one the week prior and really liked it, plus I just thought it made sense to get one to be visible. Later in the week, I was walking back to my room after Vespers rehearsal and got out my umbrella for the walk. A friend of mine--a guy I consider to be pretty progressive--looked at my umbrella and said something to the effect of, "That's a little excessive, isn't it?" (photo: Sean Dillard)

Well, is it?

Is carrying a rainbow umbrella, as a guy, broadcasting your sexuality? I don't think so. I've gotten a few ambiguous looks while carrying it. But come on! It's a nice-looking umbrella, one of the few available at the Duke store. I don't have to be gay to carry it, right? I mean, granted, we're a pretty homophobic society, but come on. They're colors. Are we really that afraid of Mr. Roy G. Biv?

I also wear an LGBT Center button/pin on my backpack. This one makes me even more nervous. I tend to turn it around when I sit down on the bus so it's facing me. (though, the extreme awkwardness necessary to turn a button into a confrontation will probably always prevent people from talking about it. Just imagine, "Yo, this guy has an LGBT center pin on his bag. Heh, what a fag," is the most graceful way I can imagine it, and, well, clearly, that interaction fails).

Yeah, I wish we lived in a society (or a campus, even) where it'd be commonplace for straight guys to overcome their homophobia enough to do some of the same things I do. But even if they aren't homophobic or being afraid of associated with the LGBT center, being an LGBT activist is simply less likely to be as high on their priority list as it is on mine. And while plenty of my ally friends wear Love=Love shirts, no straight boy around here would carry that umbrella or wear that pin. And I'm okay with that. I think it's good for people to see a guy who's not afraid to carry a rainbow umbrella, regardless of whether or not he's gay. (and just recognizing that sure says something about masculinity...)

I had a long conversation with one of my priests last semester, and he essentially told me that he thought I should be as open and out as I was comfortable being, because it would be healthy for our Catholic community to have someone so open and comfortable both in his role as a gay man and as a Catholic in a leadership position (I'm the co-coordinator for music ministry, so I'm up front with the choir every weekend). And I think I agree. I'm reasonably comfortable with myself (and growing more so each day)--why not use that to help our community and our campus grow?

I've heard the argument that being so visible or being a "queen" (or a rather effeminate gay man) can be harmful to our cause, that it will cause discomfort and push people away. I somewhat disagree. I think that, yes, perhaps some extremely homophobic people will be pushed away--but they're already homophobic and probably still will be tomorrow. In their case, it won't make much of a difference either way. But as I've talked about before, I think the best way to advance our position in the community is to personally connect with people, to allow dialogue to happen and to be comfortable talking about myself. If I'm visible, I make such dialogue more likely--even if I'm not involved--and that's something I'm happy about. If people think about it, I'm confident they'll end up on "our" side, so let's keep people thinking about it.

So yeah. Lots of rain this semester. All my shoes are perpetually muddy. Thankfully, the weather's pretty nice today. If it goes foul tomorrow, though, you can trust I'll be getting out my rainbow umbrella again.

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Amazing Speech on Marriage Equality: New York State Senator Diane Savino makes some very compelling statements on marriage equality.

PLEASE share this with friends, family, and everyone else who is important to you.

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Stephen Fry Raaaails the Catholic Church: I. Love. This. Man. As a member of the Catholic Church, I completely agree with Mr. Fry. The Church's leaders need to get their heads out of their asses and their hands out of politics.

P.S. The rest of the debate is great if you care to see it. The ending is the real kicker though ;D

Oh, him? He's gay.

I am a 21-year-old gay, Catholic, analytical, somewhat musical male. I'm also confused as hell about life right now, but I imagine that will pass someday (maybe not!).

While I'm not a big fan of such attempts to describe people, reductive analysis does tend to reveal certain underlying features (structural details, one might say). Which parts of your you-ness are most important to you?

The unofficial Duke motto is "Work hard, play hard." And it's a fitting one, I think. The fact is, there's simply not enough time in the week to devote yourself to all too many activities. Additionally, there are too many people to know everyone all too well. As a result, this sort of quick reduction is almost a necessary mode of functioning. Who's he? Oh, he's in band. She sings in Chorale. These two write for the Chronicle. She does Vespers. He's in the Pitchforks. (note: these are far from representative :P)

This being the case, it seems that many students fight tooth and nail for even a second identifier. She's in [sorority] and she's premed. Speaking from my perspective, it's definitely a somewhat frightening notion that people will see me as one thing and one thing only.

A lot of people complain about self-segregation at Duke. They're usually talking about racial self-segregation, but it goes way beyond that. People self-segregate by major, religion, sexual orientation, gender, socioeconomic status, social standing, and a whole host of other things. Why is this? I certainly think one reason for it is that we want to spend time with people who understand what it's like to be [adjective]. Simultaneously, I also imagine that if I'm hanging out with people who are also [adjective], I'm going to be seen as more than just that. It's like those little travel games or hidden message things where you put on the red glasses and it lets you see what's under all the red ink--when your primary descriptor is nullified, you're required to look beyond it.

I think perhaps the broader idea is that people are looking for meaningful friendships and they believe that they are likelier to find these in people who have certain things in common with them (the popular idea is, the more you have in common, the better).

I'm not going to refute this quite yet (I'll get to my rant on friendships toward the end of the post). For now, let's talk about being homophobic versus accepting. At our last discussion, some members of the Catholic Student Center asked, "How can we make the community more welcoming?" I answered something like, "Well, you are welcoming. Now you just have to figure out how to let people know that." But, honestly, I was really only talking about those people, right there. Are the Catholics okay with my sexuality? Are the frat guys? Does it really matter?

Sometimes it's pretty uncomfortable hanging out with certain Catholic friends of mine. I have this nagging thought that maybe they're just judging me the whole time. Maybe they're hanging out with me in hopes that they'll show me the light and that I can be saved from fiery death. Similarly, with other friends, well, maybe they're totally fine with it, and maybe the fact that we've never talked about it means that, but maybe it means the opposite. We're all insecure sometimes, and while I think I'm getting better at not feeling like I need to prove myself to people as a gay man in this heteronormative society, sometimes I need to have discussions with people and know that I'm, for what it's worth, approved of (which is ridiculous! I don't need to "prove" myself to people as Catholic, or as being from Montana, or as any of the other things I am). While I could, hypothetically, spend my life hanging out with people who don't approve of me and trying to convince them of my humanity and personhood, that just seems like a huge depressing waste of time. It's really a mental burden to have to spend time with people you know don't approve of things. And to worry about it--does this person know? S/he's Christian--does s/he think I'm going to hell? Great.

I wish I could just say, "Forget it! I don't need your approval." And I'm getting better at doing that (or at either ignoring or attempting to educate the people who don't approve). But it's hard for me and probably always will be.

What's the solution? There's no easy one. Don't reduce. View people as whole people. Don't turn certain adjectives about a person into what you see as his/her identity. Don't put me in a box and I won't put you in one. Okay? Sometimes I'll fail, and sometimes you'll fail, but we'll keep trying. This is oversimplified, I know, but it's one place from which to start thinking about it.

Lastly, my quick rant on Duke friendships: People. Being friends is more than having something in common or about being in the same place at the same time. Friendship is a mutual commitment to spend time with each other. If you want to form lasting friendships you can maintain when you get out of here, you need to be regularly doing things to maintain these relationships. Schedule a meal or a discussion or going to the fair. If you plan to just let it happen, then as soon as you're apart, that friendship's gone because you have effectively zero practice maintaining it. Yes, here at Duke, we can find friends who have enough in common with us that we'll just keep running into them. That's all well and good. But the very few true friends I've found here are people who I go out of my way to schedule time with and who will do the same for me. It doesn't matter how far I've looked, what uniting quality I've tried to find people with--mutual commitment is the most important thing for me to have in common with a friend.

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Catholic Church Threatens To Stop D.C. Services For Needy If Gay Marriage Passes: The Catholic Archdiocese of Washington said Wednesday that it will be unable to continue the social service programs it runs for the District if the city doesn't change a proposed same-sex marriage law, a threat that could affect tens of thousands of people the church helps with adoption, homelessness and health care.

Coming Out Story #1

[Ed. Note: Every Wednesday, we collect a coming out story and post it here, anonymously. They can be long or short, devastating or hilarious or boring or somewhere in between. The stories can be gathered in person or digitally - even using our "submit anonymously" link on the sidebar! If you'd like to send one in, email us at bluedevilsunited@gmail.com. If you don't feel like writing, we can meet in person, too, (ignore this PSA) and I'll transcribe your story here. Just let us know.]

I was 13 or so, I think, when I first realized I was to be gay. Let's call it the first revelation. I wasn't sure what it meant at the time, but I knew it bothered me greatly. I cried and prayed and tried to figure out what being gay meant, particularly as a Catholic. I was sure I had screwed something up to end up this way. I was certain, too, that it was reversible--that I could simply figure out what I had done wrong and somehow undo it.

I spent the next six years attempting to reprogram my sexuality. In retrospect, I'm really just glad I didn't have access or knowledge sufficient to truly screw myself up too badly. I'm not easily discouraged, though, and I kept trying until just after my freshman year here at Duke. After an emotional discussion with my ex-girlfriend, I came out to her.

The second revelation was harder-earned than the first. I think all those years of active denial were necessary to get there, as well as my 12 sleepless hours of thought, prayer, and reflection.

You always hear about how people talk to God. And I'm a reasonably faithful person, or at least I try to be. I had just never personally believed that God actually communicated with people (did they hear some sort of boomy voice in their heads? What was this all about?). I've tried to rationalize away what happened, but the quote I was given, or that I heard, or whatever happened, just didn't seem to be anywhere else. Its wording (and its meaning, at the time) was clear. "I have made you exactly as you are, and I have made you completely beautiful."

Love is one of the hardest things for me to accept--whether from God, from others, or even from myself. It's just uncomfortable to know that someone could love those parts of you that you've spent your whole life trying to change. I don't want people to love the dark, ugly, uncomfortable, and sinful within me. I want them to want me to change it. Some days, anyhow.

It's only been two years or so since then, though I can scarcely believe it myself. Lots of things have changed. Lots of things haven't. I've accepted some of those words given to me. I readily identify as gay. I'm reasonably comfortable talking about it to family, friends, people whose names I still can't remember, and even strangers. Love, though? I still can't accept that.

I've stopped counting the revelations. It's kind of an overly dramatic way to think about knowledge, anyhow, I think. I have to admit, though, I'm not entirely comfortable with everything. I think sometimes I still want to find better arguments against homosexuality within the Church because, somehow, then, if it were okay for the Church to hate me, it would be fine for me to hate myself.

I guess I'm saying that oppression doesn't just come from society. It can come from so many places--from news media, family, religion, or the worst place: from within. Personally, I have enough trouble not despising certain things about myself that I just don't have time to hear hateful or discriminatory things elsewhere. So I don't. Maybe that's why I feel like I've never been discriminated against--if I hate myself first, maybe others won't. Maybe I just won't notice it when and/or if they do.

That sounds pretty bleak, though. Life is good. I'm generally happy and I don't get self-hating all too often. I have amazing friends and a supportive family and community, even if the family isn't entirely comfortable talking about it. Coming out is, as they say, a continuous process, and not everyone is comfortable with it. Oh well, I guess. Why should I have to justify or argue about the way I am with people? I'm gay. I didn't have a choice in the matter. That's that, and this is me.