Even though I
didn't officially come out of the closet until I was
27 years old, with my departure from the U.S. Air
Force, I started my life of dabbling in the gay
community, albeit usually with a hat pulled way down
over my eyes, when I was 21 years old. From the Air Force
Academy, my newfound-to-be-gay buddies and I would
sneak out to the gay clubs of Denver, just to see what
we could learn about being gay. By today's
standards, coming out at 21 is sort of a late start, but
I'd like to think that I've lived a full
life in the gay community and have taken advantage of
my right to have fun in the gay "scene."
At the risk of
sounding as if I think I'm old, I've come to
accept that there is a whole new generation of young,
budding, coming-outers who are enjoying stomping
grounds that I hardly walk on anymore. Their rules of
engagement and view of the world are completely different
than my own; a different view of the gay world than
what I had when I was their age -- different from the
view I have now. I've hung out with and dated guys
from this younger generation, and I've come to
realize that the biggest difference between me and
them is their lack of a need to separate themselves,
or distinguish themselves as different, from the majority of
heterosexual society. It's something that we, as part of
earlier generations, could stand to learn.
More people of
this new gay generation are coming out at a younger age
and in an environment of heterosexual people who, day
by day, care less and less about anyone's
sexual orientation other than their own. This has
caused what I can best describe as a phenomenon of visible
comfort and security within this generation with
regard to who they are as gay people. This
naturally leads to their ability to integrate
themselves into a society, with a mind-set that
wouldn't even understand why a heterosexual
person would find them or their lifestyle remotely
shameful or strange.
Granted,
I'm writing you from a Los Angeles viewpoint, where
the word "progressive" means something
much more advanced than in many other parts of the
country, but I remember parts of Los Angeles, even just
outside of West Hollywood, that, 10 years ago, were
not integrated and not friendly to two men holding
hands on a street corner.
To keep up with
the times, I've learned a lesson from my
replacements, and I'm taking some steps to
continue what they have put in motion. I'm
doing this because I believe this trend of integration is a
positive one with exponential benefits for us as
individuals, and for society in general. I'm
placing more value on integrating my life into that of the
heterosexual world, and being more aware of any past need
I've had to only visit gay bars with my friends
or search for housing in gay neighborhoods out of a
need to feel secure in my own behavior.
Going out to a
gay bar will always have its luster, just for the mere
possibility of finding a mate for a single guy or girl, but
for a gay couple or an all-gay group of friends, to go
to a mixed bar in an area filled with tolerant,
educated heterosexual people is a recipe for a really
good and valuable time. I'm not proposing doing this
out of principle to prove a point, but doing this
because you've discovered you like the location
and feel of a certain establishment that happens to not
be predominantly gay.
A few weeks ago I
went to San Diego with some gay friends to visit some
other friends of mine who happen to be heterosexual. The
club we chose to go to that first night of our trip is
called Universal. As soon as I arrived at the club I
realized I was in a new-generation situation. The
crowd was equally mixed between heterosexual and gay people.
All of the normal club-type displays of dancing and
affection came off as normal whether or not it was
between two men, two women, or a woman and a man. The
acceptance and appreciation for each other that I saw among
everyone there wasn't forced or merely part of
being tolerant. It was genuine and created a feeling
of peace in me and in the room.
I also find that
the gay youths of today (now I definitely sound like I
think I'm old) don't necessarily want to live
in the predominantly gay areas. Many are choosing to
live in neighborhoods where they are the only gay
couple or all-gay house on the street. The benefits of this
choice are dynamic because we command tolerance from
others just by being visible, positive parts of their
neighborhoods. With integration, we also prevent
ghettoizing ourselves into a microcosm where we lack an
understanding of the people of the majority of the world in
which we must work, live, and function.
Although I agree
that this trend toward integrating our community into
the general population is a good thing, I understand that
this is something that could have only come with time.
Our gay culture and community's history clearly
spell out the reasons for our needing, or being
forced, to segregate ourselves into concentrated areas with
large numbers of us banding together.
We can't
discount what our safety-in-numbers strategy has done for us
on so many levels. For instance, when the AIDS
epidemic first struck our community in the 1980s,
while the rest of the country was playing a blame
game, we came together to raise money for research, to
educate each other on the use of condoms and safer
sex, and to create programs to treat the sick and
dying. This would have been an even tougher feat had we not
been so closely organized.
We are lucky to
live in an age where a transition from this isolation to
integration is upon us. I believe that the more we
integrate, the more we will be accepted and sought out
by the majority to be an appreciated part of society
as a whole. We have an opportunity to take advantage of the
peace that will ultimately exist when we, as gay people, are
not seen as a peculiar fringe of the population.
Today we have a
U.S. president whose mere presence in office symbolizes a
world where integration of minorities into society
ultimately works and leads to an overall embracing of
that minority into general society. Many minorities
have had to meet unfair challenges along the way. Many have
had to band together into tightly knit neighborhoods and
communities in order to survive through tougher times.
Eventually, however, there came a time where they
needed to break out of that mentality of isolation in
order to gain acceptance on a new level. Our minority
community is experiencing a time of transition that is
no different than that of other struggling minority
populations of the past.
Let's take
the blinders off and venture into the heterosexual world
more than we may think we need to, especially those of
us who live in urban areas where staying all-gay can
be an easy thing to do. I know what you're
thinking: But our gay places are so much more fabulously
done and taken care of. I'm smiling and
I agree with you on many accounts, but there are great
places that we miss out on in the midst of a seemingly
overly heterosexual society.
I'm not
proposing that because we integrate into the general
population that we lose our unique way or adopt the
lifestyle of the heterosexual population. I'm
proposing working on an ability to mutually appreciate
our respective lifestyles. Hanging out at gay restaurants,
clubs, bars, and neighborhoods may bring us immediate
satisfaction and security, but we should make an
effort to venture out of our comfort zone. Putting
aside our own risk of missing the chance to meet
so many amazing people and having positive experiences
that we wouldn't normally enjoy in isolation,
we as a community have so much to offer that outside
world, whether we realize it or not.