Monthly Archives: October 2017

Vince, New York City

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


Vince, in his own words (first published in 2014): “February 6, 2014 was a special day. I met Kevin Truong at the corner of Sixth Avenue and 42 Street in New York City to be photographed. Participating in the Gay Men Project and being photographed in the theatre district of the Big Apple are important to me. I live in Philadelphia, but my life as a gay man began in Times Square thirty-four years ago.

I am sixty-eight now, and on my thirty-fourth birthday I stood in line on 47th Street for two-for-one tickets for a Broadway play. A girl friend met me there. She brought a birthday cake, and people in line sang “Happy Birthday” as she lit the candle. After the show we went to “Uncle Charlie’s,” a gay bar in the Village. She asked if I was gay. Well, six months later in Philadelphia I had my first sexual experience with a man. His name was Jimmy, a great guy and still a friend. When he embraced to kiss me, I remember thinking, “This is what it’s like.”

All of the years before that first sexual experience I was afraid to admit that I was attracted to men. The fear drove me crazy. But admitting that fact to myself was a first step to being a better man. No need to describe the years which followed in any great detail. My life is much like thousands of others who lived through the eighties and beyond. Close friendships were established, boyfriends came and went, and many, many died. But the man who mattered most in my life, my partner and best friend for twenty-three years, made me a “mensch.” In Yiddish, the word simple means to be a real human being. Our life seemed perfect for the first eight years. Of course, that was on the surface. We had the house in Philly, friends, jobs, supportive parents, and each other. But like any other couple, we had hard times, bad moments, frustrations, disappointments; and over our heads hung the fear of AIDS. In 1990 we decided to be tested. I tested negative, and Jon, my partner, was positive. His results came back on the eve of my forty-fifth birthday. He had planned a special birthday for me: a weekend in New York, two Broadway plays, a nice dinner, a romantic evening together. That never happened, but the next sixteen years did. How Jon became positive never mattered. How to live did. The years were tough, but he was the Energizer Bunny. He kept going and going. Jon was my life partner no matter what happened, and many things did. He died in 2006, and like the moment he received the phone call to tell him he was HIV positive, I was there to hold him and love him when he died.

Today, almost eights years later, it’s hard to believe that we could be legally married if he were alive. Unfortunately not in Philadelphia, but that too will happen. Life is good; people are wonderful; and the advice I have for a younger gay man: confront your fears, go after your dream, and be a “mensch.”

Dion, Lecturer, Melbourne, Australia

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

Dion, in his own words: “I don’t have a manifesto about being gay, although I have devoted a lot of my adult life to thinking about the meanings of sexuality. I’m a gender and sexuality studies academic, or, at least, I’m trying to become established as one. I wrote a dissertation about HIV/AIDS and gay men, and I guess in many ways that whole project, which is getting published as a book soon, is essentially about what it means to be gay, and about denaturalizing some of those meanings. I write a queer column for an Australian literary journal called The Lifted Brow, and increasingly I get asked to write and speak about queer topics. So considering so much of my career has been given over to reading and writing about the meanings of sexuality, I suppose being queer to me means a lot of questioning and thinking about (and maybe sometimes over thinking!) the meanings of sex and sexuality. Sounds fun doesn’t it?

I prefer ‘queer’ more than ‘gay.’ On the surface I look like a lot of the things that are associated with the label ‘gay’: I’m able-bodied and cis-gendered; I live in a city, in a rich, privileged country in the developed world; I’m overeducated and I spend my spare money on cocktails and haircuts; I have sex and relationships with men. That’s stereotypically white gay men stuff I suppose. But ‘queer’ is a better fit with my politics and with how I feel about sexuality. It’s a better description of the people in my life and the affinities I have with them. It’s also a more honest description of what I did sexually during my teen years and early twenties, and it doesn’t write that stuff off as ‘before I was gay.’ I think ‘queer’ provides a better and more progressive account of the politics of sexuality and intimacy than ‘gay’ does, although I don’t really mind if other people use that term to describe me. Part of being queer for me means trying not to take my own or anyone else’s sexuality for granted; trying not to fall back on assumptions about what is normal.

Like being anything, being queer can be a source of frustration because everyone has assumptions about what that means. You have to situate your own desires and sex practices and life choices – your own story – in relation to those assumptions, even if the complexity and messiness of your inner and intimate life diverges from them. These days, for example, many Australians assume that all gay people want gay marriage recognized and that they themselves probably want to get married, and that gay marriage is an issue they want to talk to about. I don’t care about gay marriage or want it for myself, and the effort it takes to account for that to people is tiring sometimes. On the other hand, I’m pretty aware of how privileged that complaint is when people in my own community and around the world are persecuted daily for their sexual difference.

One way or another, queer people are always asked to explain themselves. Straight people don’t get asked that question: ‘What does being straight mean to you?’

My academic career is a constant stream of success and unsuccess. Something gets published, something gets knocked back; some promising contract work opportunity arises, but the certainty of a permanent job remains elusive. It’s always been like that: big achievements occasionally and lots of everyday failure in between. Maybe all careers are like that? A volatile, checkered story.

I went to uni on a scholarship after scoring one of the top high school grades in my state. I’d been a bookish teenager but also a somewhat undisciplined one, so that was a success nobody was quite expecting, least of all me. I loved being a student, studying literature and talking about politics, but in the background I think that big early achievement set a kind of unbeatable standard. When I started a PhD on another scholarship in my early twenties I became very depressed and couldn’t get out of bed. Eventually I worked out how to do it, and seven years later I finished it and now I am turning it into a book. That feels like success. But, on the other hand, I haven’t been able to turn that into a job… yet.

My coming out story is an ‘out and in and out’ one, although I’ve always maintained it was more of a sexually fluid narrative, rather than a coming out and going back in.

I was in high school secretly dating an older guy who was in his final year at another school. I lived at home with my parents in a southern part of Melbourne and would sneak off on the tram to visit him in the north. I was closeted and he was very emphatically out. I think it probably frustrated him that I was keeping the relationship a secret, but he persisted patiently with me.

Eventually my parents cottoned on to my dissapearings. I was doing a fair bit of lying to them about where I was at that time, and probably a whole lot of other things. One night I was at my boyfriend’s house and my parents called me there. To this day I still don’t know how they got his number or how they figured out where I was. He took me home, where my parents were fighting bitterly. They were themselves on the threshold of their own relationship breakdown, so it was an unsettled time for everyone. That night, I couldn’t get to sleep. I felt like a coward for not coming out, and I was worried I would lose my boyfriend if I continued to keep him a secret, so I woke my parents up at 4am to tell them I was gay.

It was a pretty angsty, melodramatic coming out scene! Strangely though I stopped seeing the guy after that, and later that year, after the trauma of coming out died down, I fell head over heels for a new girl at my high school, and we started dating and sleeping with each other. When we finished high school, she went overseas for a year, during which time I missed her and pined for her – and also for my first boyfriend. There’s a label people use for that: ‘confused.’ But I also remember thinking about how I wanted them both, but that somehow a choice had to be made.

At the end of the year I met my high school sweetheart in Europe and we went travelling together and spent a month disagreeing and fighting and having angry sex. After that I came home and thought: I am totally into boys now. Eventually, when I found a new boyfriend and decided I wanted to take him home to my mother I felt as if I had to come out to her again, since my last relationship had been with a woman. It was pretty un-cataclysmic this one. I told my mum ‘I’m seeing someone, his name is…’ and she asked, ‘Is he Jewish?’

Melbourne’s queer community is cosmopolitan and urban and gentrified. I don’t know for sure, but I suspect many queer Melbournians increasingly aspire to a house and kids and to a comfortable life in the suburbs. I guess it’s much like any other metropolis in the developed world: New York, Manchester, Amsterdam. Gay men are more visible than lesbians; poorer queers are invisible. I don’t know. People lead quite comfortable lives here. There isn’t so much of a gay or queer ‘scene’ as there are multiple scenes. I gather that’s the trend now in a lot of cities. I’ve made it sound pretty bleak, haven’t I? It’s a very cool city to be queer in. It’s just hard to describe why without using clichés like ‘vibrant’ and ‘diverse.’ It can be a very sexy city sometimes.

My advice to my younger self would be to stick with your art classes, go back to drama school and go on a date with the guy from the pie shop.”

Renatto, Painter, 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

Renatto, in his own words: “A medida que pasan los años me voy dando cuenta que el significado de ser gay es muy importante, significa, libertad, alegría, significa liberarse de prejuicios, plenitud en todos los aspectos, si existe algo que agradezco a Dios, es que soy homosexual.
Soy el hombre mas feliz del mundo siendo gay, aunque como todo en la vida siempre tiene su pro y su contras, jamás cambiaria el hecho de que soy gay.
Ser Gay significa, libertad, plenitud y alegría.

El primer desafío importante que tuve fue hablar con mi padre y contarle sobre mi verdadera sexualidad, fue increíble sentir la aceptación de mi padre, eso, también fue un éxito
El segundo desafío es convertirme en un escritor y pintor reconocido en Buenos Aires, hoy por hoy sigo trabajando en este desafío, no es fácil abrirse camino en un país tan artístico y cultural como Argentina.

Argentina hoy en día es un país adelantado en cuestiones de respeto y tolerancia, nos hemos vuelto un país abierto a todas las formas de vida y sociedades, conviviendo juntas, pero no siempre fue así, yo soy uno de los miles de homosexuales en la Argentina que presenciamos la historia, cuando los legisladores aprobaron la ley de matrimonio para personas del mismo sexo, se creo el paradigma mas hermoso de todos los tiempos, ese fue el mas grande triunfo de mi vida, aunque fue el de todos; todos y cada uno lo vivimos de forma personal.

La gran diversidad de la comunidad LGBT en Argentina es asombrosa, jamás se podrá catalogar en un solo colectivo a las miles de forma de pensar de actuar y de vivir, pero a pesar de esa gran diversidad siempre tuvimos un mismo objetivo, alcanzar la tolerancia y el respeto social, en cada provincia de la Argentina las formas de vida de los homosexuales es muy diferentes, algunas mas vertiginosas que otras. Y aun que la capital, Buenos Aires, es el centro de todo, el país tiene una variedad de formas de vida que enriquecen la cultura de este lugar, mi nación, Argentina.

En este aspecto, debo decir que la federación argentina LGBT es un grupo de personas que abogan por los derechos de la comunidad homosexual y que hasta el presente han logrado cumplir metas muy importantes.
En Argentina la comunidad LGBT es cien por ciento activa, en muchos aspectos.

(With regards to coming out) Para poder decirlo públicamente, me costo veinte años de mi vida.
A mis veinte años yo sabia que era homosexual, quería llevar una vida gay, quería ser como Juan Castro un querido periodista argentino que ya no esta entre nosotros; pero para lograr ser un gay en toda su plenitud, yo sabia muy bien que el primero a quien debía decir la verdad era a mi querido padre.
Mi papá era uno de esos machos argentinos que enloquecía a las mujeres con su sola presencia, para mi no era fácil contarle algo así, sobre todo porque hace diez años atrás la argentina era un país muy diferente al que es ahora; fue entonces que pensé “si realmente soy un hombre honorable, debo hablar con mi padre y decirle la verdad.
Fue algo así:
Yo: -papá, soy gay, me gustan los hombres-
Padre: -ya lo sabia, desde que eras chico, y te quiero igual, eso no cambia nada-

Ese momento fue liberador, sentí como todo el universo se abría ante mis ojos, mi papá me dio un fuerte abrazo y lloramos juntos, después de eso, jamás volvería a sentir miedo de nada más.

Yo no soy quien para recomendar nada a nadie, pero si alguien quiere escuchar o leer un humilde concejo yo diría:
1 Siempre digamos la verdad
2 Jamás nos avergoncemos de lo que somos.
3 olvidémonos del miedo y seamos felices, trabajando por un mundo más tolerable.”

In English:

“As the years pass, I am realizing that the meaning of being gay is very important, meaning, freedom, joy, meaning freedom from prejudice, fullness in all aspects, if there is anything that I thank God for, it is that I’m gay.

I am the happiest man in the world to be gay, but like everything in life there has been its pros and cons, and I never would change the fact that I’m gay.

Being Gay means, freedom, fulfillment and joy.

The first major challenge I had was talking to my father and telling him about my true sexuality, it was amazing to feel the acceptance of my father, it was also a success.
The second challenge is trying to become a renowned writer and painter in Buenos Aires, today I am still working on this challenge, it is not easy to break into an artistic and cultural country like Argentina.

Argentina today is advanced on issues of respect and tolerance in the country, we have become open to all forms of life and country societies, living together, but it was not always this way. I am one of the thousands of homosexuals in Argentina who witnessed history when lawmakers passed the law of marriage for same-sex couples, the most beautiful of all paradigms in time was created, that was the biggest win of my life, but as with everyone, every person lived it personally.

The great diversity of the LGBT community in Argentina is amazing, and can never be categorized into one of the thousands of collective thinking of those acting and living it, but despite this great diversity there is always the same goal, to achieve tolerance and social respect, in every province of Argentina lifestyles of homosexuals are very different, some more dizzying than others. And even in the capital, Buenos Aires, which is the center of everything, the country has a variety of life forms that enrich the culture of this place, my country, Argentina.

In this regard, I must say that Argentina LGBT federation is a group of people who advocate for the rights of the gay community and so far has managed to meet important goals.

In Argentina the LGBT community is one hundred percent active in many aspects.

(With regards to coming out) to say it publicly, cost me twenty years of my life. In my twenties I knew I was gay, I wanted to live as a gay life, wanted to be like Juan Castro the beloved Argentine journalist who is no longer among us; but in order to become a gay in all its fullness, I knew very well that the first person to tell the truth needed to be my dear father.

My dad was that typical Argentinian man who drove women crazy just by his presence, for me it was not easy to tell him something, especially because ten years ago Argentina was a very different country than it is now; It was then that I thought “if I’m really an honorable man, I must speak to my father and tell him the truth.

It was something like this:
Me: Dad, I’m gay, I like men.
Father: – I already know that, since you were a kid, I love you and this is not going to change.

That moment was liberating, I felt like the whole universe opened up before my eyes, my dad gave me a big hug and we cried together, after that, I would never be afraid of anything.

I am not one to recommend anything to anyone, but if someone wants to hear or read a humble council I would (tell my younger self):

1. Always tell the truth
2. Never feel ashamed of who we are.
3. forget about the fear and be happy working for a more tolerable world.”