I almost didn’t write this letter because it feels presumptuous. It feels presumptuous to me to think I can see the pain and struggle in your eyes without knowing you after watching you on tv for three plus minutes. And yet, I can’t stop thinking about you, Matt. I can’t, because as presumptuous as it may be, I see what I see and it breaks my heart. I want to hug you. I want to protect you. There’s so much I want to tell you.
I must first admit that I have no experience in familial rejection. It pains me to say that we live in a world where I am excessively lucky. I came out to my parents and my brother when I was 14 or 15 and over the course of the next few years we all learned a lot together. Sometimes I led, sometimes [continue reading...]
Tired of receiving spam from Christian Mingle, I thought I’d set up an account.
My profile said:
I am a happily married gay man, but since I keep getting Christian Mingle spam and you keep popping up on my fb page, I thought I’d set up an account.
That is what they’re hoping for, right?
Upon reading my profile and discovering that I am married, they immediately sent me this email:
I sent back this response:
To which they responded:
I suppose I could have just clicked on the Do Not Email [continue reading...]
In 1985, The Harlequin Dinner Theatre in Rockville, Maryland did “A Chorus Line”. I saw that production on a class field trip. The Original Cast Recording had been playing in my house, nonstop, since it was first released. There wasn’t a note on that album I didn’t know. But this was the first time I saw a production of the show. I don’t remember much. Not the singing. Not the dancing. I don’t remember if the show was good or bad or somewhere in the middle. What I remember was the character Gregory Gardner. I remember him saying, “And then there was the time I was making out in the back seat with Sally Ketchum. We were necking [continue reading...]
@rogeronimo_com I never doubted Rob Portman loves his son. I just think he’s showing it the wrong way. Every “coming out” is a tragedy
— Peter LaBarbera (@PeterLaBarbera) March 15, 2013
I tweet it everyday because our opponents think coming out is tragic. I tweet it everyday because our silence gives them the power to narrate our stories ~ our lives, our loves, our families, our place in society. I tweet it everyday because I will not relinquish my voice to people such as Peter LaBarbera.
When I first met my husband, sometime near the close of the 20th century, and we were negotiating the parameters of our life together, one area of absolute agreement was Valentine’s Day. We were both quite clear ~ we would never celebrate it. We would never partake in this ridiculous “holiday” created purely to bloat the books of card, chocolate and flower companies.
We agreed that picking an arbitrary day once a year to treat each other with passion and compassion, to pay attention to and enjoy one another, was simply not enough. We would never allow our relationship to lean against such a flimsy post for support. It seemed clear that we should treat each other well every day.
And anyway, this mid-winter milestone ostensibly designed to bring people together in a celebration of [continue reading...]
Let’s be clear, the policy debate you’re currently having ~ or, more accurately, currently hiding from ~ is not about whether to continue your ban on gays in the Boy Scouts. The debate you’re currently having is about whether to continue your ban on honesty and integrity within the Boy Scouts.
The simple truth is this: there always have been gay scouts and there will always be gay scouts. You can not ban them. All you can do is enforce a policy that forces them to lie about who they are.
And on this issue of honesty, you have decided not to decide. At least not right now. In the statement you made to the press you called this an issue with a great deal of “complexity” and said that “the organization needs time for [continue reading...]
Dear Chris Culliver and All the Other Straight Men Who Fear that Gay Guys in the Locker Room Are Looking at You “That Way” ~
But you’re missing the silver lining. Most of you are incredibly unattractive. Truly. On the whole, y’all have no idea how unattractive you are. And since you’re not attracted to men yourselves and you’re too hung up on being labeled gay to even entertain the notion that another dude might be handsome, you simply have no idea what an attractive man might look like. And trust me, an attractive man is not you. I can not tell you the number of times I’ve been in a locker room with a guy taking off his clothes and thought to myself, “Oh, for the love of all that is good and holy, cover up. With a towel. Or a sheet. A tarp. Whatever. Just cover. that. [continue reading...]
Stonewall, the President, Jodie Foster, Why Coming Out is Our Duty & Why I’ve Been Tweeting “I’m Gay” Everyday
“Seneca Falls, Selma, and Stonewall.”
A simple sentence. Yet remarkably powerful.
Before the nation and before the world, my President, Barack Obama, in one single breath, recognized that LGBT history is American history. He plucked the Stonewall Riots from the sole purview of gay studies programs at colleges and universities and placed it squarely in the path this country has cleared with blood, sweat, tears and perseverance in its quest to fulfill its original promise: liberty and freedom for all. A path that bears the footprints of some of our greatest Americans.
Before the nation and before the world, I heard in my President’s words and saw in his eyes that I am an American first ~ that I am here ~ that I am equal ~ and that I deserve my shot at the American dream ~ with all its rights and responsibilities ~ on the exact same footing as my straight [continue reading...]
I, like most Americans, spent the weekend watching and not watching and watching and not watching the Sandy Hook coverage. Unable to take in such a massive tragedy yet compelled to reach for answers to unanswerable questions. Hoping to make sense of the nonsensical.
On Saturday night, as my husband and I sat watching the news, too under the weather and stunned by Friday’s horrors to attend our yearly circuit of holiday parties, we heard how 27 year old Vicki Soto had protected her class: by putting them in closets, by hiding them in her classroom so that the shooter might not see them. It worked. Vicki Soto’s students survived. She did not.
My husband, a fifth grade teacher, turned to me and said, “There’s nowhere in my class to hide my kids.”
I had to make [continue reading...]