Connect with us

Commentary

Coming out is a life-long process

Oct. 11 is National Coming Out Day

Published

on

Oct. 11 is National Coming Out Day

ā€œTell me about your coming out,ā€ my 30-something friend Seth recently said to me.

ā€œIt was more than a day!ā€ I joked.

National Coming Out Day (NCOD) is on Oct. 11. The holiday, celebrated yearly on Oct. 11, was first observed on Oct. 11, 1988.

That date was the one-year anniversary of the 1987 queer rights march in Washington, D.C. More than half a million people were at the march, which was a turning point in the LGBTQ+ rights movement.

Robert H. Eichberg, a psychologist who died in 1995, and gay rights activist Jean Oā€™Leary, who died in 2005, co-founded NCOD. 

Things have progressed so far for us queers since then. We can marry and serve in the military. Weā€™re parents, cops, athletes, teachers and preachers.

In this era of marriage equality, itā€™s tempting to wonder: What is all the fuss about coming out?

But, a reality check shows that coming out still matters.

A quick look through the news headlines reveals why staying in the closet is so hurtful and how unsafe it can still be to come out as LGBTQ+.

If youā€™re of a certain age, you likely cried your eyes out when you watched the Disney movie ā€œOld Yeller.ā€ Who could forget the scene when the young boy Travis (played by Tommy Kirk shoots ā€œOld Yellerā€ because his dog has rabies? In 2019, the Library of Congress added 

ā€Old Yellerā€ to the National Film Registry.

Kirk died on Sept. 28 at 79 at his Las Vegas home. Despite Kirkā€™s popularity with fans, Disney didnā€™t renew his contract because he was gay.

ā€œI was caught having sex with a boy at a public pool in Burbank,ā€ Kirk told the gossip columnist Liz Smith. ā€œWe were both young, and the boyā€™s mother went to Walt.ā€

In the 1960s, there was no way that an out actor would have had a chance in Hollywood.

I wish I could say that everythingā€™s changed since Disney fired Kirk. But, this isnā€™t the case.

In August, Jamel Myles, a fourth grader in Denver killed himself, the Denver Post reported. His mother told the Post that her son, whoā€™d come out to her as gay, took his own life because heā€™d been bullied for a year.

ā€œWe are deeply committed to our studentsā€™ well-being,ā€ a Denver Public Schools spokesman said in a statement.

Unfortunately, Jamalā€™s story is far from unique. Nationwide, many LGBTQ+ students in the U.S. have been bullied. Nearly half (43 percent) of transgender youth have been bullied, according to the 2019 Youth Risk Behavior Surveillance survey. Nearly a third (29 percent) of trans youth, 21 percent of gay and lesbian youth and 22 percent of bisexual youth have attempted suicide, the survey reports.

Life is far more dangerous for queer folk in many places worldwide from Hungary to Ghana.

You could respond to this grim news by going to bed, staying under the coversā€”tucked in the closet.

But that would let homophobia and transphobia have the right of way. It would deny us the chance to joyfully, proudly, defiantly celebrate who we are.

Studies have shown that knowing us can help alleviate prejudice.

Family members, friends and colleagues may still feel uncomfortable around us because of our sexual orientation or gender identity.

But, itā€™s hard to hate your non-binary 10-year-old granddaughter on Christmas morning. Or your gay buddy at the gym.

One of my fondest memories is when I came out to my Aunt Manci. I worried that she wouldnā€™t accept my girlfriend. I needed have been anxious. ā€œYouā€™re lucky,ā€ she said, ā€œshe loves you.ā€

Coming out is a process that lasts a lifetimeā€”from deciding if you want to be out in the third grade to ensuring that your loved ones wonā€™t erase your queerness from your obituary.

Coming out can be arduous. But, itā€™s liberating! Let the revels begin! Happy National Coming Out Day!Ā 

Kathi Wolfe, a writer and a poet, is a regular contributor to the Blade.

Advertisement
FUND LGBTQ JOURNALISM
SIGN UP FOR E-BLAST

Commentary

Survivors of sex crimes are unsung heroes

Taking trauma and turning it to their advantage

Published

on

Jake Stewart is a D.C.-based writer and barback.

(Editorā€™s note: This is the second of a two-part story. Click here to read the first installment.)

Last month, I started watching ā€œThe X-files.ā€ 

For the most part I loved the show, with Agents Scully and Mulder as the primary reasons why. Yet what I found most frustrating was watching their investigations. As early as episode one, set in a small town of scared people guarded by scary men, Agent Scully proposed coincidences while Agent Mulder proposed aliens. Despite the episode having ā€œcultā€ written all over it, both agents seemed none the wiser. 

Recently, I learned the FBI has an open process for writers and other creatives to learn how the agency works. I also discovered the FBI has a history of monitoring writers. In fact, the FBI is about as image-conscious as your typical D.C. gay, making me wonder how the ā€œX-Filesā€ moved forward with little pushback. Thatā€™s about as interesting as UFOs being discovered in New Mexico as we tested the atomic bomb. 

But if youā€™re reading this, you likely want me to shut up about the ā€œX-Filesā€ and get back to my story. When I left off, my friend had disappeared and my work cleared me of any wrongdoing. That said, I was mysteriously fired in September 2022ā€”nearly a year after the initial incidentā€”and just six weeks after my boss learned that I wrote books. 

The process of my firing was strange, to say the least. First and foremost, I was never given a reason. To this day it remains a mystery. My now-former employerā€”a high-profile lobbying firmā€”then bullied me into signing an NDA to access my severance. 

By the way, I negotiated up. While I donā€™t know what I did, I had a feeling I had that power. I was right. 

Just prior to the firing, they asked me to bring in my laptop so they could download my files. This rang an alarm for me, primarily because they never gave me a laptop. So, they wanted me to bring in my personal laptop. As a writer with original materials, I reasonably asked what constituted a work file. I never received an answer. 

Coincidentally, I met my ex-boyfriend exactly one week before I got fired. He is the same ex-boyfriend from my religion piece, in which I mentioned he fell into hard times. Specifically, I was referring to concerning signs I spotted last April, primarily on the gay apps, and with memories of the last boy still fresh on my mind, I refused to let another slip from my grasp. 

So, what did I do? I dove headfirst into hell in a messy attempt to rescue him. After playing this new game of cat-and-mouse in which I was said mouse, allow me to share what I learned: Over the course of several months, I spotted sketchy characters at my exā€™s placeā€”characters I suspected dealt hard drugs, which was highly out of character for him. Moreover, I found online accounts promoting extremely suspect pornography and, yes, pimping services on X (formerly Twitter), some of which looked a lot like my ex. While I didnā€™t know what exactly was happening, I knew something was off, but when I confronted my ex, he denied it. 

Being the stubborn asshole that I am, I decided to check these sketchy characters out for myself. It turns out I was spot on about their sketchiness. I learned they not only drug unsuspecting young men in a coordinated manner, but once drugged they sexually violate them andā€”if drugged enoughā€”begin recording videos. Itā€™s all made to look random yet safe; for example, there always seems to be a nurse in the group who is ā€œexperiencedā€ in administering needles. 

Once I had proof these people were unsafe, I took further action for my ex. In mid-November, I reached out to someone in his personal life, which was a tough decision since he was closeted. I was strategic and chose someone who knew he was bisexual, and after connecting with her on Instagram, spoke on the phone with her the next morning. Upon hearing my concerns, she agreed based on her own observations. 

Apparently, she spotted signs of him being physically harmed over the summer. She and I spoke for hours on end about the situation and how we could help him. Then, just a week later, I lost contact with her and my ex. I havenā€™t heard from either since. 

I eventually grew concerned enough to contact the police and the FBI. In the meantime, particularly following my trauma article, sex workers approached me to share their storiesā€”primarily stories of rape and abuse alongside a power structure rooted in it. As for those who try to oppose this system? Theyā€™re often written off as mentally ill. 

I donā€™t know about you, but I refuse to live in a world where young queers are shepherded into this system. Thatā€™s the opposite of what I envision for the queer community. 

Mid-Atlantic Leather weekend arrived in January, along with more sex workers. Once again, some approached me to share their storiesā€”about their aspirations, about their art, about their perspectives on the world. And once again, about the system of abuse designed against them from the start. I heard stories of young boys raped by their fathers, or friends of their fathers, or about the drugs used to coerce them into sexual activity. Sadly, just like a UFO witness, they are usually written off and never taken seriously, especially if they have a record of drug abuse or mental illness. Seems to be a pattern, doesnā€™t it? 

That said, these men are not solely victims. If anything, they took their trauma and turned it to their advantage. Iā€™d like to take this moment to thank them. Theyā€™re unsung heroesā€”each and every oneā€”in a nation that often shames them. 

Yet as proud as I am of these sex workers, my heart was equally broken. These stories were painful to hear, to say the least. I quickly grew paranoid of people around me, even friends at times. There were other times I sat alone in my apartment, bawling over the men I had lost, along with the pain others had experienced. This only strengthened my resolve to end it.Ā 

To top this all off, my final discovery came just two months ago. Turns out thereā€™s an X account publicly teasing me about this entire affair. The account even references this column and, according to the receipts, started well before I noticed concerning signs about my ex in the first place.  

Hello there, dear X account. It appears youā€™ve been observing me. Consider this my proverbial tapping back on the glass. 

Wowā€”there seems to be a lot of time, energy, and effort spent on little ole me. Why is that, I wonder? Iā€™ve mentioned before Iā€™m just a measly little barback who has been fired twice. Although looking back, those firings were strange too, werenā€™t they? 

Is it the abuse I uncovered? Is it the details of my loverā€™s past? Is it something I wrote? Is it a combination of the three? And is it possible that the little dark cloud thatā€™s been following me in D.C. is more intentional than I once thought? 

I may never learn the truth on my own, but I can pose another question: whatā€™s the only thing scarier than UFOs? To me thereā€™s just one answer: that UFOs were never real in the first place. Occasionally, answers to unsettling mysteries simply unearth more unsettling mysteries. 

I mentioned before in this column that I arrived to D.C. naĆÆve about the world, perhaps just as naĆÆve as Agents Scully and Mulder. Yet in my naivetĆ© I tripped on something: the rot hiding beneath the surface of our nationā€™s capital. No, it isnā€™t coincidence. It isnā€™t aliens, either. But whatever it is, I alone cannot identify it. 

Throughout my time uncovering this story, Iā€™ve come across friends, acquaintances, and even relatives who suffered abuse, along with threats or shaming to keep them quiet. They come from all races, creeds, backgrounds, and orientations, and as it turns out, some of the infrastructure of power in D.C. and in towns across this nation are built around it. While Iā€™m ready to tear it down, this isnā€™t just my story. I might be the one starting it, but itā€™s not on me to finish. 

The most I can do is hand the pen over to the victims. Iā€™ve shared my part. Now itā€™s their turn. As for the audience: I hope youā€™re now ready to start believing.  


Jake Stewart is a D.C.-based writer and barback.

Continue Reading

Commentary

The evolution of visibility: D.C. Pride 1990-1997

Efforts to include trans, bi identities intensify

Published

on

A scene from the Gay and Lesbian Pride Festival on June 17, 1990. (Washington Blade archive photo by Doug Hinckle)

In conjunction with WorldPride 2025, the Rainbow History Project is creating an exhibit on the evolution of Pride: ā€œPickets, Protests, and Parades: The History of Gay Pride in Washington.ā€ It will be on Freedom Plaza from May 17 through July 7. This is the seventh in a series of 10 articles that will share the research themes and invite public participation. In ā€œThe Evolution of Visibilityā€ we discuss how by the 1990s victories from Gay Pride grew into more groups calling for more types of events to celebrate more identities under the rainbow.

In 1988, due to a lack of inclusiveness and financial problems, the P Street Festival Committee dissolved itself and Gay and Lesbian Pride of Washington took up the mantle of organizing Pride. Gay women solidified their distinct identity as lesbians and oftentimes ā€œlesbianā€ began to appear in front of the word gay at events. However, the conservative politics of Reaganā€™s 1980s and the AIDS pandemic had presented a public perception of the homosexual community as largely white and male despite the way AIDS ravaged Black and Brown communities and the role of lesbian leadership in responding to the crisis. 

A scene from the Pride Parade in 1991. (Washington Blade archive photo by Doug Hinckle)

According to her Rainbow History Project oral history, Carlene Cheatam was aware that ā€œmost of the people in the Black gay and lesbian community [were] in the closetā€ and knowing that a Pride organized by the P Street Festival without her would be overwhelmingly white, she sought to make space for African Americans in the gay community. Several efforts grew out of The Clubhouse, a popular Black-owned after-hours dance club in regards to the need for funds to support care of Black people suffering from AIDS. Those efforts led to the first Black Lesbian and Gay Pride Day on Memorial Day Weekend, 1991. Under Cheatam, and co-founders Welmore Cook, Theodore Kirkland, and Ernest Hopkins, Black Pride made space for African American gays and lesbians, and raised money to help AIDS service organizations.

Despite the turnout of nearly 1,000 people, and that D.C. was a majority Black city, “initial criticisms surfaced [in 1991] that we were being separatists,” one of the organizers told Gay Community News. The 1990s were characterized by an increasing diversity within the gay community, there was an ever growing number of people with a multiplicity of sexual and racial identities, all of whom wanted visibility and celebration. 

ENLACE, the first Latino/a gay and lesbian association was created to make space for and represent the Latin American and Caribbean gay community. In addition to sponsoring social events and the only Spanish-language hotline for gays and lesbians, ENLACE also educated the gay community about AIDS and worked within the Latino communities on issues of homophobia. ENLACE marched not only in the gay Pride parades, but also in the Latino community events. Support for ENLACE grew after the murder of Ana Maria Rosales, who was shot and killed on Jan. 7, 1993, in what many believed was a crime driven by racism and homophobia. 

The Lesbian Avengers organized the worldā€™s first Dyke March on the eve of the April 1993 March on Washington for Lesbian, Gay and Bi Equal Rights and Liberation. About 20,000 women marched against anti-gay bills, and for grassroots organizing, and awareness of womenā€™s issues.

Bi Pride marches in the 1997 Pride Parade. (Washington Blade archive photo by Clint Steib)

Transgender and bisexual people also lobbied to be included in Pride, more than just in name only. Transgender support groups and activist organizations were created in tandem during the 1990s. The Bisexual Centrist Alliance and Jeffrey Pendleton, a gay and transgender man, joined forces to create a separate Pride Festival to protest bi and trans exclusion from the Pride title and literature. The Transsexual Menaces demonstrated at Judiciary Square during the Stonewall 25 anniversary. Robin Margolis and other bi and trans coalition activists, assisted by members of various gay and lesbian organizations, held a Diversity Pride picnic in Rock Creek Park on June 10, 1996. 

Rainbow History Projectā€™s exhibit centers the voices of the event organizers, includes dissenting opinions on Pride, and highlights the intersections with other movements for equal rights and liberation. We need your help to tell our story! If you have any images and input contact us and get involved!


Vincent Slatt is the senior curator for the Rainbow History Project.

Continue Reading

Commentary

US funding freeze exacerbates flood aftermath for LGBTQ Batswana

Natural disaster has left several dead, impacted thousands

Published

on

On Thursday, Feb. 20, we commemorated World Social Justice Day amidst an unprecedented flooding crisis that devastated homes and families across Botswana. We had to remind Batswana of the importance of consistency in ensuring justice for everyone. Even in times of crisis; poor urban planning, drainage systems and property workmanship have led to disruption, impacting over 2,900 lives and the loss of at least seven by Saturday morning. Schools were closed and government staff working in shifts reminded me of the COVID-19 pandemic where prolonged stays at home increased vulnerabilities for women and children in their diversity, mental health deteriorated, gender-based violence increased and longstanding health inequities worsened. These are the realities of those in rural areas living with HIV and those with disabilities even when there is no crisis.Ā 

President Trump’s executive orders have further aggravated the situation.

Key populations at risk of HIV, LGBTI and sex workers, no longer have nondiscriminatory targeted health provisions or indirectly, emergency response measures through intermediary funders from civil society office shut downs and budget cuts to explicit exclusions of any diverse groupsā€”most notably, transgender and gender diverse folks like myself. Close friends no longer have homes or furniture. Sporadic electricity and water cuts are the order of the day even in unaffected areas, going as long as two days without either. Unsurprisingly, there are no queer emergency funds or digital individual giving infrastructure, or dedicated philanthropic efforts to rise to the occasion. A true reflection of the paradox of a higher middle income country. An economic classification that has led to perpetual declines in overseas development assistance and the assumption of a thriving democracy. I often ask myself, a thriving democracy for who?

When COVID-19 vaccines first arrived, they were held in a private residence for the elite to be vaccinated. When our constitutional review bill was tabled before the 12th parliament, there were protests against the inclusion of intersex protections. When we first had floods in January, the more underserved and impoverished areas were impacted. There were no nationwide initiatives for donations from the business community as we do now, concentrated in the capital city. Gaborone. It seems we did not learn from previous cyclones, floods, tremors or pandemics domestically or regionally. Every day, I am reminded of how unequal and unjust my country is. Despite a change in government, I still got pulled from an interview on national television less than five minutes from the shooting schedule. I am left to question whether itā€™s my gender identity, expression or not carrying the right kind of surname? The topic had already been approved and the channel staff reached out to me directly for a conversation on sex work within the queer community in rural settings. 

A thriving democracy does not leave you questioning your dignity and personhood. It ensures transparency and accountability as a part of its culture. A higher middle income country takes care of all its people, not just the elite. Social protections, universal health coverage, diversity and inclusion are not afterthoughts. Anchored in political will, the respect in the indivisibility of human rights trumps the bare minimum of the rule of law. However, my country only reflects the global geopolitc: A world where power and equality are defined by economic, social, military and financial capital. One that continues to draw from the planet, working poor, and othered without shame or repercussions. It’s a power that Toni Morrison spoke of as a profound neurosis on a Charlie Rose interview. Explaining that those who abuse power are bereft. Void of seeing others as human or with any empathy. Whilst she might have been focusing on racism as a social and institutional construct, I understand now: That the hubris of fear [or phobia] can only resort to violence, subjugation and abuse of office. That it is a reflection of poor upbringing, self indignity and a lack of humanity in oneself.

As our exclusion is institutionalised, one understands that we are truly powerful. National architecture redirected and prioritised towards us. National attention, laws and inhumanity towards us for merely existing. Whilst it may trigger trauma and injustice; it also propels our existence as resistance. It unearths the insecurity that dictators and tyrants in offices and government alike, have to face when sitting with themselves at the end of each day. Having to account for their shortcomings and inadequacy despite being wealthy and in power. They are intellectually deficient and denied any morality just as imagination. A prison of oneself, where they are the center of the world, but really arenā€™t. It is an abyss, a plateau that only knows growth in exploitative profits and never in personhood. Defaced from any identity, history and cultureā€”void of kindness to oneself. So they try to take these away from us instead. This is why I believe all is not lost. As we write, sing, and share our stories, as we connect beyond borders and binaries. We rejoice in meeting our peers in solidarity, reminding each other that we cannot be silenced or erased. From shared resilience to shared joy in our activism, VĆ”clav Havel’s words ring true: ā€œHope is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something is worth doing no matter how it turns out.ā€Ā 

Dumi Gatsha is a consultant and founder of Success Capital Organization, a grassroots NGO working in the nexus of human rights and sustainable development at grassroots, regional, and global levels.

Continue Reading
Advertisement
Advertisement

Sign Up for Weekly E-Blast

Follow Us @washblade

Advertisement

Popular