This Way Out - HIPFiSHmonthly

Out On the CoastOctober is National Coming Out MonthHIPFiSH celebrates with Inspiring stories from Coastal folkWhile we all have a coming out story, aswe progress through our lives, we maysometimes forget the personal and socialchallenges we faced as we came to embrace ourqueer identity. And that today it is youth thatface this challenge as LGBT youth are threetimes more likely to commit suicide, that theyneed role models, that they need hope.That as we continue to gain civil rights, ourstories stir compassion, and continueto raise the bar on humanity.- Dinah UrellThis month Hipfish collaborated with North Coast PFLAG to gatherstories to be published in these pages and stories that will air on KMUNwith Host Roger Rocka (check KMUN.org for scheduling). These arestories from mothers, and brothers and sisters, youth and elders. Acrossthe United States, people are gathering, occupying, the 60’s is upon usagain. Hallelujah. It’s not over, nor will it ever be, to awaken our hearts toa human, humane society.Let it be nonviolent – let all great change come from the voice andthe actions of the people. From the night that all hell broke loose at theStonewall Inn on Christopher Street in NYC in 1969, that began the gayrevolution, from the speakeasies of the 20’s and 30’s where butches andfemmes cohabited, creating a place of freedom to be who they wanted tobe – from the avenues and coffee houses of Eugene, Oregon in the 80’s,where the lesbian lavender woman from all the states, migrated to, to befree, and feminist and radical – the city of which I lived in my 20’s, andfilled journals with desire, with doubts, with proclamations of my sexualityand womanhood.Stories of personal freedom are powerful. Many thanks to the contributorsin this collection. I am proud and moved to publish them. I’m proudto live in a rural community that embraces diversity, not without barriers,but yet still an essential of the roots of human dignity abides on ourshores. Queer people exist in every race and every country -- let our raisingbe a conduit of diplomacy – the diplomacy of the human heart, and toevery individual’s gift of life to better learn and understand each other andourselves. For no one can really understand unless we tell our stories.I started high school in 1966. This wasthree years before the Stonewall Riots and the‘official’ beginning of gay liberation. There wereno gay role models in 1966. There was no‘gay’! There was pansy, and sissy, and fruit, andLiberace.I didn’t want to be a sissy – I had seen whathappened to them in grade school. Untouchables,at best – social lepers, no friends, thebest they could hope for was to be invisible.Otherwise, they were the natural prey of the‘normal’ boys.I knew, even before my teens, that I wasattracted to men. But with no one to confidein, no adults that I felt safe speaking to, I didn’tknow what it meant. I thought – I hoped – thatthings would sort themselves out in high school.But it didn’t get better – it got much, muchworse. I fell in love with another young man inmy class, and couldn’t stop thinking about him.Meanwhile, the testosterone was surging allaround me. As the boys were becoming youngmen, it got more and more dangerous to bedifferent. Everyone else around me seemed onthe fast track to full-fledged maleness. Therewere two or three other outcasts, but we usuallyavoided each other. It was easier to stay invisiblethat way. Besides, what could we offer oneanother? Only our shared stigma and shame.Better not to confirm anyone’s suspicions by associatingtoo closely with the other lepers. - Andwhen a gym teacher called me ‘Shirley’, my fatewas sealed. I was beat up only once, but thatwas more than enough.There seemed no way forward. There was noplace for a person like me in the adult world. Iconfided in a school counselor that I was thinkingof killing myself. I didn’t even dare to tell himwhy! He sent me to a therapist who, fortunately,was completely accepting. So finally I could talkabout it. – But there was still very little to go on.Homosexuality was a mental illness in the 60’s.The American Psychiatric Association removedhomosexuality from its diagnostic list of mentaldisorders in 1973. Somehow that didn’t makeme feel a whole lot better. But it was progress.And there has been progress – incredibleprogress, although I still carry a heavy load ofinternalized homophobia. I wish young peopletoday didn’t have to deal with such lethal prejudice.But the number of LGBT teen suicides tellsme differently.That’s why I know it is important to keepcoming out. Coming out isn’t something thatyou can do once and it’s over – unless you’reEllen DeGeneres. Coming out is a choice I haveto make, again and again, in each new socialsetting. No wonder I get cranky sometimes! –But if that’s what it takes to bring equality closerto realization, to make the world a safer placefor all LGBT people, that’s what I’ll do. Being asissy isn’t for the faint-hearted. Just ask Shirley.- Drew Herzig, AstoriaIn my sophomore year of high school Icame out to my friends and to my family. It allstarted when my mother had asked me out ofthe blue. “Stephanie, are you a lesbian?” Withone simple word, I told her the truth. “Yeah…”Being a lesbian individual was not and still isnot a problem in my life. I run my life perfectlynormal like everyone else; I go to college, goout on family outings, have lots of friends, andsimply enjoy life. If I were straight, my life wouldstill be the same—nothing would change. Ieven want to get married and have children withmy future wife. If I was straight, the only thingthat would change would be the pronoun of mypartner.For other LGBT persons, I am using my talentof writing to help others come out and forstraight individuals understand that gay andlesbians aren’t different because they like thesame-sex. My best friend of three years and stillGraphic: Michelle Roth13 oct11 hipfishmonthly.com