30 years ago this month I entered life as an openly gay man. Now to be honest, the previous 20 years were pretty gay, but my coming out was an important moment for me. David Ferguson may not have realized it then, but when he kissed me(and vice versa), back in the little practice room at School of the Arts, the real me was awakened, and my inner joy was truly born. Yup, who knew a make out session could do all that.
My journey over the next 30 years was difficult at some points, and tremendously happy in other points. There has been one constant though, my firm belief that my orientation doesn't mean I take a back seat to anyone.
The year after coming out, I endured the horror of rape. I went home with a guy, who I thought was a pretty decent guy, and in turn he raped me. The ugliness of that day haunts me. It doesn't define me though. I was told very early on, and it took me a while to understand this, but it's true - I was not responsible for what happened that day. I was still a person of worth, and not a piece of garbage as I was treated by that man.
The news though got worse. 1985 - I was misdiagnosed as being HIV+. I have to mention the misdiagnosis up front, because I don't want anyone to think I am still HIV+. I do, though, live with that diagnosis for 2.5 years. This period was I learned how little society cared for gay people.
The day I got my second test "confirming" my status, the State of Indiana health "counselor" told me to prepare to die. I asked if there was anyone or group to go to. She told me no. Little did I know the Lesbian and Gay Community were founding groups which would not only provide support on a mental level, but created organizations which took care of our medical, housing, nutritional, financial, and any other needs we could think of. We took care of our own, because we knew this wasn't "God's punishment." We knew this was a public health issue, and our country at the time didn't care. We were still the second class citizens who were "perverts" and freaks. We were "Queers" and not in that good way.
1988 I came out of the closet even further. I was elected the first president of OUT, Indiana University's LGBT organization. With the hard work of great people like Jeff Bass, Chad Brown, Nora Fergus, Grant Kerr, Chad Fisher, and our straight allies, like Jennifer Rudd and Pamela Freeman, we worked hard over the next two years, to let the university community know that lesbian and gay students were equal to anyone else on campus.
Sexual orientation was put into the non-discriminatory policies of the university. We created Pride Week and the Miss Gay IU Pageant. We remembered those in our past who perished during the Holocaust. We laid the ground work for the LGBT Student Support Center. We demanded a place at the table, and we got it. No one gave us anything, we worked hard for it.
We also remembered those of our friends and loved ones who dies of AIDS related causes. We brought the NAMES Project Quilt to Indiana for the first time in 1990. We raised over $16,000 for community AIDS organization with our efforts.
My post IU life was very different. For a time I lived in Nashville, TN. At that time the closet door was barely open a crack. I had joined a gay men's support group, and quickly learned how self loathing some gay men could be. One member of the group killed himself, because of the "shame" of his sexuality. I have never been ashamed of who I am, and it bothered me that someone would do this. I left the group shortly after this happened. I asked the counselor why he suggested I join. He thought I would be a role model for the group. That isn't a good reason to join a group. A support group should help you, not reinforce the negatives.
I did come out to my family while I was IU. It wasn't the more positive experience. My mom took it fairly hard. I'm not sure she was every comfortable with it. At the end of her life, she told me she just wanted me to be happy, and enjoy life.
Relationships have not always been easy, but then again they never are. I have had the one night stands, the stalker, the being alone, the love, the loss of love, and the love again. Six years ago, last week, I met Mark. We met online, hooked up(yup I will be blunt), dated, and fell in love. That love has endured a lot in the last six years. His health issues have been a source of hardship for us on many levels. He in turn has dealt with my work issues, and our move to my home state of Indiana, which has not gone well for him.
I have always been honest about my life and my relationships. It has caused me trouble in the workplace, because I have worked in the past with idiots who don't consider me equal. My dad told me many years ago, that I should marry a lesbian, that way no one would discriminate against me. I looked him in the eye and said, "Dad do you really think I would ALLOW anyone to discriminate against me?" HELL NO!
My 30 year journey has included wonderful friends, both gay and straight alike. One sadness for me came in 1994, when I lost my childhood friend Dave Wagle. We had gone through middle and high school together. We were competitive with each other in choir(of course I was the better singer). We lost touch when we went to college, but found each other when I moved to Chicago in 1992. He had AIDS and was dying.
This was still at a time of great stigma, even in our community. Many of his friends had abandoned him. I wondered why he had so few visitors in the hospital. He told me his friends didn't want to see what would happen to them. I hated that. I made sure everytime we were together we did something fun. We did lunch at the old Marshall Field's Walnut Room. We went shopping. We had a cocktail or two. We did what friends do.
Dave passed away while I was in Italy in school, during he summer of 1994. When I spoke to his mother, I told her I didn't realize how close he was to dying. She told me he asked about often while I was gone. I wished I could have been there for him at the end. Still he knew how much I valued our friendship. He is buried a few miles away from where my family had a cottage at Lake Michigan. He had visited us there a few times, and I know he loved that area. I was touched he wanted to be buried there.
When the world hasn't been good to gay people, it has always been important to surround myself with friends. I am blessed to have had FABULOUS friends. Naming them is a horrible exercise, because I know I would forget someone, and hurt their feelings. I do need to name two people who were crucial to helping me develop as a gay man - Chris Runge and Marshall Shore. Oh how I wish these two knew each other.
Chris was the first person I told about that memorable kiss, and that I was gay. Of course, he would come out later in life, but he was so supportive and happy for me. I am so happy my first coming out was that positive.
Marshall I met while I was at IU. He went to Purdue(not his fault I'm sure). He was a friend of a friend, and then we became friends. He taught me about being FABULOUS
This 30 year experience has made me a happy and proud gay man. Still though, Mark and I face a country where we have been second class citizens. Personally I believe we are second to no one. We are equal. Thanks to the DOMA and Prop. 8 decisions by the US Supreme Court, lesbians and gays have been told that we are equal, and while our efforts need to continue, in the eyes of the highest court in the land, we are not second class citizens.
This decision will not stop the haters from trying to beat us back. History though is on our side. Mark and I will be married. It will be recognized. Our marriage won't be a "skim milk" marriage(quoting Justice Ginsberg). As the chant goes, "We're here. We're queer. Get used to it."
I look forward to continuing to be a proud gay man, and continuing to fight for that place at the table.
Charlie
