Monthly Archives: November 2014

Pablo, Student, Buenos Aires, Argentina

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

Pablo, in his own words: “The way I see it, being gay is just another part of my personality. I don´t follow a so-called “gay lifestyle” and I usually don´t like things gay people like. I´d like to think of me as a guy who likes guys.

Being gay in Argentina doesn´t mean hiding all the time. Gay marriage is legal here and being homosexual is not frowned upon, as it is in many other more “civilized” countries. It´s just OK to be gay. You won´t be rejected in a job interview for being openly gay, and cases of homophobia are quite uncommon. I don´t see any challenges or successes that I got from the sole act of being gay. I personally think that these challenges and successes are part of our everyday life, our social circle, our community and, most important, our attitude. We have to live with it. That´s all.

To be honest I haven´t come out yet. I know that my mother and my sister know something about my sexuality but we don´t talk about it. My father doesn´t know anything. I don’t know if he is blind or if he is just not accepting it. Anyways, I feel that I am stuck with this because I don´t want to hurt him.

(With regards to the gay community in Buenos Aires) I would say that it is very active. Buenos Aires is a big city, so there are parties almost every weekend. Being gay is accepted and normal.

(With regards to advice to my younger self)I would probably tell myself not to be afraid to come out. The sooner, the better.”

Luiz, Psychologist, Brasilia, Brazil

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

Luiz, in his own words: “Ser gay é um dos aspectos da minha vida, não o principal, tampouco o menos importante. Faz parte do que sou, mas não me define, pois a minha vida é muito mais ampla que isso. Mas em um país como o Brasil, com tantos casos de homofobia e violência a ela relacionada, também significa ter restrições para demonstrar carinho em público e nem sempre poder apresentar o companheiro para parte da família ou colegas do trabalho. É um “não dito”, por vezes, uma lacuna social que permanece em certos ambientes e locais.

Creio que me aceitar foi um dos primeiros grandes desafios, já que cresci em um ambiente familiar preconceituoso. Contar para minha mãe, quando eu tinha 21 anos, também foi difícil. Ela demorou a aceitar a situação, perguntou se “ser gay” era “ser passivo”, expressou sua preocupação com relação a doenças e promiscuidade e o medo de eu permanecer sozinho. Para meu pai nunca contei, mas tenho certeza que ele sabia. Ele faleceu em 2007 sem que tenhamos conversado sobre o assunto.
A partir do momento que me senti mais seguro como pessoa, pude definir outros rumos para minha vida, escolher coisas que eu realmente queria fazer, namorar, viajar mais, fazer outro curso de graduação (psicologia), perceber que eu podia ser diferente e fazer diferente do que foi planejado pelos meus pais, ou seja, crescer e amadurecer mais.

(With regards to coming out) Para minha mãe, aos 21 anos, quando estava sofrendo por uma paixão não correspondida. Depois, meu círculo de amigos foi mudando, fiz amigos gays (boa parte conheci pela internet), e também me senti mais a vontade em misturar os grupos nos meus aniversários (colegas de colégio, conhecidos de igreja, família e amigos gays) ou apresentar namorados. Mesmo sem eu dizer expressamente, as pessoas foram percebendo. Com a família não foi muito diferente, pois minha mãe contou para uma tia, que contou para outros parentes e creio que todos saibam atualmente, apesar de não ter sido uma iniciativa minha. No trabalho, alguns colegas sabem, por eu ter contado e outros por que também perceberam. Não são todas as pessoas que fazem parte da minha vida que sabem, pelo menos, não abertamente.

(In Brasilia) A comunidade gay é muito variada. Há cafés, bares e boates Gays, mas não muitos, além de festas que são realizadas eventualmente. Também existem lugares que as pessoas se encontram para sexo imediato, como certos estacionamentos no parque da cidade, saunas, cinemas pornô. Além disso, aplicativos nos celulares ou sites na internet colocam pessoas com gostos e perfis parecidos em contato. Alguns só gostam de ir a lugares gays, outros não vão de forma alguma nesses lugares, mas se sentem à vontade em ir a locais “alternativos”, ou ainda existem aqueles que não se assumem para praticamente ninguém e somente frequentam casa de amigos ou ambientes considerados predominantemente heterossexuais.

(To my younger self) Diria para não dar tanta importância para o que as outras pessoas pensam, que eu consiguirei fazer um bom grupo de amigos e conhecerei pessoas fantásticas, gays e heterossexuais, que irão me perceber como uma pessoa completa, enxergar meu caráter e minhas ações, que gostarão de mim com minhas qualidades e defeitos e que ser gay não é um desses defeitos. Que eu me veja bonito por dentro e por fora, que poderei ser o que eu quiser ser e não preciso agradar a todo mundo.”

In English:

“Being gay is one aspect of my life, not the principal, nor the least important. It is part of who I am, but does not define me, because my life is much broader than that. But in a country like Brazil, with many cases of homophobia and violence related to it, it also means having restrictions to show affection in public and not always being able to present a companion to part of the family or work colleagues. It is “not said” sometimes in a social gap in certain environments and locations.

I believe that accepting myself was one of the first major challenges, since I grew up in a family environment very prejudiced. Telling my mother when I was 21, it was also difficult. She was slow to accept the situation, and asked if “being gay” was “being botton,” and expressed her concern about disease and the fear of promiscuity and that I would remain alone. To my father I never told, but I’m sure he knew. He died in 2007 without us having talked about it.

From the moment that I felt safer as a person, I could define other directions for my life, choose things I really wanted to do, date, travel more, make another undergraduate degree (psychology), realize that I could be different and do different things than from what was planned by my parents, that is, I could grow and mature more.

(With regards to coming out) To my mother, at 21, when I was suffering by unrequited passion. Then my circle of friends changed, I made gay friends (much met through the Internet), and I also felt more at ease in mixing the groups in my birthdays (schoolmates, known church, family and gay friends) or present boyfriends. Even without me spelling it out, people were noticing. With family it was not very different because my mother told an aunt who told other relatives and I believe that they all currently know, although it was not by my initiative. At work, some colleagues know, for I have told others and others have also realized. Not all people who are part of my life know, at least not openly.

The gay community (in Brasilia) is diverse. There are cafes, bars and Gay clubs, but not many, and parties that are held eventually. There are also places that people meet for immediate sex, as certain parking lots in the city park, saunas, porn cinemas. Additionally, apps on mobile or internet sites put people with similar tastes and profiles in touch. Some just like to go to gay places, others do not go at all to these places, but feel comfortable in going to “alternative” places, or there are still those who are not out to just anyone and only attend a friend’s house or social places considered predominantly heterosexual.

(To my younger self) I would say not to give much importance to what other people think, that I will have a good group of friends and meet fantastic people, gay and straight, who will see me as a whole person, see my character and my actions, they will like me with my qualities and defects and that being gay is not one of those defects. That I can see myself beautiful inside and out, I can be what I want to be and need not please everyone.”

Bill, Caretaker, Cleveland, Ohio

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin TRuong

photo by Kevin TRuong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

Bill, in his own words:“It was a typical, mystical day living through Cleveland’s weather in late April: a morning of heavy rain, some of it slanted horizontally, and raging winds followed by the most beautiful afternoon of sun and colorful displays of azalea, pansies and Spring buds on trees of all different varieties. Working with a personal trainer, I walked outside and worked inside on several machines that tested my limits, as well as a half circle of wood which challenged my balance ability as I moved my feet from side to side and front to back. I needed a shoulder to lean on, and it was there. Afterwards, I swam laps in a pool bathed in sunlight and got warm in the hot tub. Then I returned to my apartment, to walk again — this time with my dog Oliver, my constant companion who I believe keeps me alive with his need to be walked several times a day. Of course, the rain later resumed.

I was exhilarated! I’m so happy to finally have achieved regular exercise workouts after several years of placing that goal at or near the top of my to-do list, only to find excuse after excuse for avoiding such discipline. But it only took place because someone else enabled me — a nurse that oversees the health of caretakers for residents of the senior nursing home community where my wife of 53 years, Susan, has been living for two years with combined dementia and mobility limitations brought about by Parkinson’s Disease. I told the nurse of my need and failure to act, and she immediately called the trainer and told him to call me and get started. That worked.

Susan’s Parkinson’s was diagnosed more than a decade ago, and I became her caretaker. We moved from our home community in D.C. for nearly 40 years to Cleveland, first to a home and then an apartment. I now live alone for the first time in my life. The changes that have taken place over these last years was very painful, but gradually a new life in me emerged: I recognized that I was gay. As I began what was for me a crucial quest to find companionship I soon discovered that my only desire for connection was with other men. I had not been a closeted gay man during all those years before. I had a wonderful life growing up in rural Maryland, in the 1940s and 1950s, thoroughly involved in all sorts of school activities with lots of friends. At Syracuse University it was the same story. I met my wife at the student newspaper, we got married, and I had the most happy experience of my life — the one achievement that will matter most on my deathbed — being able to live with the three sons we raised. And they still talk and argue with each other and myself, another prime goal of my life. My career in newspapers for more than 20 years never felt like work; I enjoyed my life fully and I had only one partner, my Susan.

My psychiatrist describes my experience as that of a latent homosexual, terminology first proposed by Sigmund Freud, as an erotic inclination toward members of the same sex that is not consciously experienced or expressed in overt action. Some gay activists today dismiss such a notion as hogwash, believing that there was real conscious knowledge that I just repressed. I can only speak for my true self today, and I know Freud’s idea reflects the reality of my two lives — the very happy life as a man married to a woman and my happy life today as an openly, proud gay man with many male friends in the diverse Cleveland communities. I saw an ad in the latest New York Times Book Review for a new book by Felicia Drury Kliment, “The Subconscious.” The ad reads: “Your subconscious is like a compass, always pointing toward your ideal direction…The trick is knowing how to read it.” For several years now I have been gradually reading the compass points, and I can truly recognize in hindsight the men in my past that were attractive to me, the art I appreciated (male nudity such as Michelangelo’s David in Florence, who I visited for an hour, walking around him and sitting on benches, with Susan in her wheelchair near by), the few opportunities I had for the stunning freedom of nude sunbathing and swimming, the magazines I read. My conscious brain was not able to connect the dots and turn on a lightbulb that showed I was gay.

As a result, even though I lived through the 1960s gay revolution as a citizen of Manhattan, and then lived in the Washington, D.C. area that is now a gay mecca, I was not part of those scenes and never suffered the pain and sorrow of being shamed, hated or beaten. The freedom I enjoy today as a gay man was made possible by the sacrifices of so many who exhibited courage after Stonewall, the AIDS plague and the battle today for equal treatment under law. It’s been so easy for me and believe me, I know that in my soul every day rests the nagging question about why was I exempt from the bullying, the hatred, the exclusion. I purchased and wore an ACT-UP shirt, but why not more?

Coming out for me just emerged as I found companionship, love and support among many men hungry for the same. I never had to explain anything to my sons — my oldest son just told me that he and his brothers knew I was gay and they’ve continued to demonstrate love and support for me with their wives and my five grandchildren. I met the most important men in my life through massage exchanges. I’m not a licensed massage therapist but I’ve learned much from them — the simplicity of gentle touch, kind attention to feelings, thorough pressure on aching muscles, sweet hugs (they all had such training and have been licensed). I also enrolled in a Body Electric introductory massage training program and hope to attend more. Right now, I’m concentrated on the coming summer as a volunteer for the 2014 world Gay Games to be held in Cleveland in August, and after that hiking more than 100 miles in Spain for a month with my closest friend Gary on the historic Camino de Santiago — a pilgrimage trek walked by thousands over many centuries. Now that will be a physical and emotional challenge and I’m anxious to prove to myself that it is a feat I can accomplish (again, with support, leaning on the shoulders of Gary, who I’ve been dating regularly for nearly three years).

Even though Cleveland is hosting the Gay Games it is not a gay mecca. There are not a lot of hot nightclubs and shows that appeal to a gay audience. But there is so much vitality here in the world of art and culture, great music of all kinds, important museums and several perennially losing major league sports franchises (I love baseball, especially, and it is difficult to find other gay men interested in sports). There also are dozens of gay community groups, from book clubs, Yahoo/Facebook/Meetup groups and a fine gay men’s chorus as well as naturists groups, naked swimming parties and gay married men discussion groups. Gay men live all over the city and it would be easy to find an event of interest 365 days of the year. I really love this Rust Belt city with its still-active steel mill right next to downtown, a thriving legitimate and independent theatre scene, a resurgent downtown soon to house a major supermarket, a growing tech community, so many ethnic restaurants and neighborhoods, great beer and beckoning train whistles in the night.

I was born in 1936 when life expectancy for men in the U.S. was in the 60s. I’m now 77, and I’m happy to greet each new day with only one expectation: that something will happen that day that wasn’t expected or planned. Given my life to date, I find it difficult to offer advice today to my younger self of the 1940s and 1950s. That was such a different era. I think I’d focus on dreams and quiet time alone — urging my young self not to to get so involved with everything, to set aside time to meditate and find strength in the beautiful person I am, to not work so hard to be accepted as one of the crowd. When I told one friend how much I liked him, he told me in response that I was looking at myself in a mirror.

Being alone, as I am now, need not be lonely. I’m still trying to achieve that goal. It is very difficult. I couldn’t do it without so many friends and supporters whose love for me lets me know it’s one more goal I can reach as long as I keep focused on the truthful points of that compass.”