Tagged: oregon

Casey, Communications Specialist, Portland, Oregon

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

photo by Kevin Truong
photo by Kevin Truong
photo by Kevin Truong
photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong
photo by Kevin Truong

Casey, in his own words: “Being queer to me means living the life I was meant to live without reservation. I spent so much time being reserved about myself that I feel like I wasted time. Being queer is kind of a ‘fuck you’ to this big hetero-normative world we live in where you are controlled by expectation.

I’ve had great success at finding a really amazing queer family, but within that I’ve learned to come to terms with the relative narrowness of my own experience and to respect other people more. I only know how to do me, but you know what? I love it. Tight jeans, big hair, and a mild obsession with Tonya Harding. The challenge I think is approaching this diverse community of queens and queers with enough compassion and respect to leave room for everyone to feel totally accepted.

Gay life in Portland is lively but small. I think after spending the last ten years here and being recently single, you realize how incestuous it can feel. For dating, that is. The community is fantastic. There are so many radical and wild people doing amazing performance art and throwing these really avant-garde parties and it’s mixed. Boys and girls. The lesbians and the gays in Portland get along really well and collaborate a lot. I think that’s rare to find in a lot of other cities and it lends itself to creating some really amazing artistic experiences.

When I was a little boy I was very effeminate. Before I even knew I was gay, people would call me a faggot and laugh at me and push me down. That stuck with me for a while and it made me feel ashamed to come out and really embrace myself. When I was a junior in high school though, I spent a year as an exchange student in Brazil. Being taken out of my own element like that really helped me grow. I came back thinking “You know what? Fuck this, I’m gay and I don’t care what you people think”. So I started coming out to people when I was 17. I told most of my family when I was 18, and they were all really cool about it. Actually I’ve never had a bad reaction to coming out to anyone, even as I continue to do so with new people I meet. Maybe part of that is living on the west coast, but people are always fine with it.

If I could give my younger self advice it would be to ignore the expectations of people whose opinions mean nothing. Don’t be afraid to shock or offend just because you’re in women’s clothes or your voice is high pitched. Just keep looking up and being as wild and queer as your heart desires, because that is your truth and it will totally set you free.”

Thomas, Writer, Portland, Oregon

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
Thomas, in his own words:“Queerness is creativity; it’s curation. There’s an artistry and a poetry required to define yourself by your own terms. If you are told that everything you find to be beautiful or desirable is wrong, a path is forged to a certain freedom, to decide what you think is right, and true. I know that for so many of us this creates a constant anxiety, it can be really draining emotional work. But I know that for myself, it’s what saved me. The liberating revelation that my love and my life were to be entirely my own creation. It’s inspiring.

I didn’t always feel so empowered. I grew up going to Catholic school in the Midwest. When I told my parents I would be attending a demonstration for gay rights at the Kansas State House, my mother–she’s Italian–she grabbed the kitchen counter and burst into tears, repeating, “I just want to have grandchildren.” I was fourteen. Coming out, then, seemed impossible. It would be a part of myself that I would keep hidden, I figured.

I was lucky, though, because it was at my all-boys Catholic high school that I met my best friends: the Gay Lunch Table, we called ourselves. We were young and in this ostensibly repressive environment, but it never felt like that when we were together. We had our own lingo; we made each other laugh. If anyone ever tried to give us trouble, we made a game of it, coming up with unapologetically effeminate ways to make them uncomfortable. We felt tough, and not in spite of our homosexuality, but because of it.

I try to remember that every day. I’m older now, and less afraid of who I am. But it’s a good reminder: let your confidence be a shield. I read a lot of gay authors, try to follow gay artists, and there’s such a resilient beauty that runs through our history.There is both elegance and endurance. I find it very motivating. I feel the power of a family line, like I am from a long tradition of dreamers forced to reinterpret their world. So that’s what I try to remember, and what I try to put into my own work: queerness presents an opportunity to imagine a more beautiful world. Feel the power of that, wear it like armor, and embrace the grace of being gay. “

Dylan, Painter, Portland, Oregon

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
Dylan, in his own words:“I identify as gay, but for most of my life I didn’t know what that meant. I think that’s a newer term. I grew up just knowing that I liked boys and I always thought of girls as friends.

Everyone knew I hung out with the girls and I think girls thought of me as a girl. They would would say, “no boys can play with us,” and the other boys would be mad, because I was allowed to, and the girls would say, “only Dylan. Only Dylan can play with us.”

Then as I got older another boy would ask to kiss me, or would ask what it was like to kiss another boy, so I would show them.

It was just easy being gay. That’s the way it always was. It wasn’t until I got older and had to explain it to older people, or tried to fit in with guys that thought I was strange that I became more closeted. I became closeted for a while, because I wanted more male friends, but I think the guys I was friends with knew and would probably have been open minded if I’d known why I was different or how to describe it.

I never really came out. I think everyone just knew how I was. I was with older boys from a very young age and it was just natural. One time, after my first real boyfriend and I had moved in together, my mom sat me down and asked me if I was gay. I said I didn’t know. I guess. Something like that, and then they just started letting my boyfriend come to Christmas dinner and my family learned to love him too.

I don’t really feel like there is a gay community in Portland. I think that that’s why gay people like it here, because we can just be gay and nobody really thinks about it. I did go to a lesbian bar that happens once a month, and really there were only about 5 gay guys and no straight men there, and the lesbians kind of had us on the outskirts of the group, like “we’re not going to put up with any of your gay shit. Tonight’s our night.” It really shocked me, because I’ve never had lesbian friends and I was surprised by the diversity of women that were there. It was about 200 women and most of them didn’t fit any one stereotype. They dance different than gay guys was my biggest observation.

I think I would rather take advice from my younger self than give it. I was much more bold and excited about things when I was younger. I think I was very excited to be, to do, and to have. I’m kind of focused on my future self at the moment, because I don’t want to get stuck in too much of a routine and I want to be able to afford a comfortable lifestyle. Maybe I would tell my younger self, “Good job! You’re doing great! Keep going!”