Tag Archives: lgbt

Adam, Writer, New York City

photo by Kevin Truong

Adam, in his own words: “My three best friends from childhood are gay. None of us lives in Sioux Falls, SD anymore—they’re in Minneapolis, DC, and Chicago—although we are each incredibly proud to have a shared history there. In the future, I’d love to write a gay version of “Now and Then,” just to laugh at all of the things that brought us together and have kept us united since. We adored Paula Abdul, and the 1996 Olympic Gymnasts—Kerri Strug was my girlfriend, obviously—and we knew every word to every Disney song ever made, yet it still took us 19-23 years to come out of the closet. I was the fourth and final.

We all waited a while to share this part of ourselves with each other and our loved ones. For myself, it took lots of mulling to let go of tradition and the singular lifestyle with which I was presented. I am so surprised when I meet people here who came out at age 15 or 16 and told their parents and friends and religious communities with little or no friction. On top of that comparison, I’m very young as a gay
man—just over two years old. So I feel far behind most others here, and with the gay community being an affluent one—I apologize for the generalization—I worry if my standards of success are being too influenced by my peers having Fire Island timeshares or bottomless brunch budgets or Equinox memberships. This city keeps its people moving forward so quickly that I feel like I am simultaneously growing
up and falling behind.

I think I did myself a favor by coming out while training for a marathon. I had a lot of time to myself, to ruminate and strategize and to be alone with my thoughts and fully love the space between my ears. And, as any runner knows, when you’re racing long distances, you aren’t racing against other people. You do not know if the person beside you is overcoming injury, running her tenth marathon or her first, if he started fifteen minutes before or after you, or whether he is meeting or falling short of his expectations. What you do know are your own expectations, your own circumstances, your own parameters for success. You are competing against past versions of yourself, past standards of excellence, and that is how you measure your achievements. By progress.

That’s how I measure my own success as a proud gay man: steady, controlled progress. Everyone in the LGBTQ community has had a personal, internal reflection on his or her identity. My three best friends and I, having started our lives together, are each benchmarking them individually, at our respective paces, in our respective places. We are making personal progress and supporting one another through it all.

The components of this progression—the contemplation, the standards of success, the frustrations and rumination of each day—are welcomed guests in my thoughts, and I hope they are also in yours. Their existence evolves the man, making him happy and making him confident, whether he is gay or straight.”

Alex, Artist/Mover, Baltimore

photo by Kevin Truong

Alex, in his own words: “Gay is a Word I occasionally use to describe myself. Sometimes the word gay connects too much to a gender/culture dynamic that seems outdated, or just not enough. I find around radical queer folks I like to say I am a gay male, where around gay men I need to assert my queerness as something reaching into gender and my every self-constructed person. I identify more as a queer person. To me gender and sexuality are units of the creature I call me, but not the only ones. Being queer, means I connect to a culture, a world, a history that is constantly trying to reinvent itself. I suppose that’s why art and dancing help. It’s always a colorful game of movement and surprise. I like the history of magic and shamanism that friends of dorothy link up to, so somtimes its more fun to tell people that I’d rather be called a Witch than a gay male.

I would say the biggest challenge is just knowing when to speak out, and when to be chill with the circumstances of the gay/queer rung on the social ladder. Self-tokenizing is often a vice of protection and safety. Both empowering and problematic, the conflict and grey fuzzy areas of being queer tend to be super tricky. Stonewall and then some happened so we can continue to push forward to new terms and ideas of how people live their lives and celebrate their sexuality. I think there is a global need to make queerness acceptable throughout the whole world. Unganda is about to unload/has been unloading a bunch of Witch hunts on gay people. The challenge here is embracing the growing freedom and privilege of being openly gay in this culture and trying to share that with the rest of the world.

Gay Baltimore is all over the place. It’s a diverse situation, small and cozy. I’ve been more drawn to the group of artists, dancers, and thinkers who indentify beyond the basic needs or race/class/gender specificity. We’re all sentient beings working through the struggles of life. Baltimore’s gay scene can be as vanilla as queer as folk gay bar, or as granola crusty as a group of gender queer kids making art in the abandoned buildings and rustic environments of charm city.

I came out to my parents when I was 14. My twin brother had come out to me the year before, and I was intimidated to come out to him immediately. I guess that evil twin high school brat vibe kicked in, and I decided to be the first one to come out. I waited till my brother went to a weekend work-camp for this Christian cult called Young Life to take advantage of their sweet foresty resources and challenge evangelist nut-jobs. A year later when he came out to them, my parents said they wished we had both come out at the same time. I never really need to come out anymore, most people either assume or don’t care either way. At the same time, we don’t live in a 100% queer-friendly world, so coming out will always be a routine of “getting to know you” rituals. I think until the world sees queerness everywhere, no one will ever be done fully coming out. I kind of cherish the quiet retreat of the closet at times. Its like my own faggy Narnia.”

David, Actor/Fight-Director/Musician, New York City

photo by Kevin Truong

David, in his own words “Being gay is a great blessing. I feel that gay men are forced to confront their shadows at an early age and in ways that straight men, by and large don’t have to. We have to scrutinize our very identity as men and learn what that means to be ourselves. It’s a very personal journey of self-realization, self-acceptance and self-actualization. It can be daunting, heart-breaking, frightening, exciting, astonishing and deeply spiritual.

My journey was not easy. I didn’t come out to myself till I was in my mid-twenties and then to my parents in my late 20s. I had suppressed my gay nature all through adolescence and college; keeping my eye on the prize of making myself into an actor and theater artist. It was that very choice of vocation that forced me to be honest with myself and come out. I knew that I’d never be any good as an actor if I couldn’t be first honest with myself. An actor must be relentless in their quest for truth about the human condition and how to accurately tell it’s story.

Ironically, I never have been cast in a gay role for film or tv. I’m told I don’t “read” gay with my stocky build, and baritone voice. Luckily the stage has been more generous and allowed me to play some great gay characters.

Since then, I’ve worked hard to build bridges with many of NYC’s gay theater artists and have helped found a new Queer theater company: {Your Name Here} A Queer Theater Company. I also worked frequently as a fight-choreographer for off-broadway and indie-film. As far as I know, I’m the only “out” gay fight-director and like to think that I’m helping break stereotypes about gay men.

Other aspects of my nature worked against my easy integration into the gay community of NYC at first. I like martial arts and was a regular on the amateur tournament circuit. I enjoy rock /punk/psycho-billy music and the out-doors. I have found some acceptance in the leather and gay-pagan communities and have cultivated a wonderful circle of queer friends. “