In
the summer of 2010 I got a job doing archaeological survey for the U.S. Forest
Service in Northern California. For four months, I would spend ten hours a day,
four days a week with the same three people, isolated from anyone else in the
middle of a national forest. By the end, everyone would either love or hate
each other; either way, we would all get to know each other really well. Which
meant that at some point I would end up having an “I’m gay,” conversation with
my co-workers. It’s a conversation I’ve had a million times, and I’ll probably
have another million times. I wasn’t worried.
My
survey team consisted of a young man from Buffalo, New York with a degree in
Biblical archaeology, a local middle aged woman who was married and had no
college degree, and our supervisor: a local man who had just gotten his degree
in archaeology and Middle Eastern Studies. We settled into our daily routine
quite quickly. During our breaks we would talk about everything from our family
lives to the politics of gang violence. Right away it became clear that my
three colleagues were extremely conservative and quite religious, which
actually just made our conversations more interesting. We were all respectful
of each other’s differing opinions and outlooks. We never once got into any
sort of shouting match or name calling; we were at work, after all, and so we
remained professional. Even so, there was one topic I never broached, and that
was my sexual orientation.
Normally
I only ever bring up my sexual orientation if it’s pertinent to a conversation,
anyway. I don’t go out of my way to bring it up, but I also don’t go out of my
way to avoid it. If I’m having a conversation about the weather, I’m not going
to try to worm it into the conversation. On the other hand, if someone points
out that a particular actor is really hot, I might make a joke about how “he’s
really not my type,” or something. At this job, though, I made a conscious
effort not to out myself, which is harder than it sounds. Being a lesbian might
not be the most interesting thing about me, but it permeates and colours many
other aspects of my life. I ended up filtering everything I said about myself
to make sure I didn’t inadvertently come out.
I
wasn’t only worried about their reactions because they were conservative. They
had also made anti-gay comments and used anti-gay slurs on occasion. Whenever
this happened, I would quietly mention that I didn’t think the comments were
appropriate, but I completely failed to mention that they were offensive to me,
personally. The proud, LGBT activist in my mind was shouting at me that it was
even more important I was out, now. How could I hope to change minds if I
wasn’t willing to be open? And yet I still remained firmly in the closet.
I
was afraid of what might happen if I did come out. What if it all went
pear-shaped and we couldn’t work together anymore? I was spending the majority
of my time with these people; if we didn’t get along it would make the work
environment insufferable. What if things became bad enough that I’d want to
transfer to a different survey team? What if my co-workers were suddenly so
uncomfortable around me that they wanted to transfer to a different team? Would
I be blamed for having caused the problem by bringing up a controversial topic?
We weren’t supposed to discuss anything too controversial anyway, and sexual
orientation can cause all sorts of controversy.
Even
if we were all still able to work together, I thought that coming out would
have changed the dynamic of the group. These were people who gave every
indication they believed homosexuality was not right. I thought that if I came
out, it wouldn’t just potentially cause problems in the working environment, it
would possibly offend my co-workers. Somehow, the truth of my existence could
be offensive to someone else, and I desperately did not want to offend anyone.
So for four months I kept a big part of my life secret, which did have one
unexpected benefit.
At
the end of the season my supervisor reviewed my work and had a little exit
interview. At the end of the interview, my supervisor told me that he really
liked working with me. He thought part of the reason our group had gotten along
so well was because I had been able to work really well with people with
different beliefs and perspectives than my own. I thanked my supervisor for the
compliment, and thought to myself, “You have no idea.”
--------------------
These
four months of my life have been a source for a lot of reflection, particularly
lately. When I think back on it, I always feel resentment toward my co-workers
for making me feel like I needed to hide who I was. But then I wonder whether
that’s an entirely accurate evaluation of what happened. Did they make me feel
I had to hide, or had I made myself feel that way by assuming I knew how they
would react? Is that justified as a method to protect myself from intolerance?
Should I be ashamed of my assumptions? And perhaps the million dollar question:
if I could go back, would I do anything differently? It’s a whole lot of what
if’s and should haves to unpack, but I’m going to try by looking at these
questions one at a time.
So
then, did they help create a working environment which made me feel like coming
out would cause problems? The short answer to that is, yes. The long answer is
quite a bit more complicated. Unfortunately for conservatives, the public and political face
of the Christian right is one of intolerance and homophobia. Now you’ll notice
I have not used the term ‘homophobic,’ until this point in my article and that
was not accidental. It is a term that does get overused, and often misused.
However, in this case I feel it is accurate.
In
the U.S., the Christian right has been represented by people and political
campaigns that actually fear LGBT people. The anti-same-sex marriage campaigns
that suggest we need to protect children from learning about same-sex marriage,
the argument that allowing same-sex marriage would mean having to legalize
bestiality and paedophilia, the concern that out soldiers would negatively
affect the military – the element they all have in common is fear, literally a
fear of gay people and what out gay people will do. So the public image of
conservative Christians does contain an element of homophobia.
What
this means, is that when I became aware of the fact that my co-workers were
right-wing Christians; that is the image that immediately popped into my mind.
In my defence, I did try to keep an open mind. I hadn’t quite decided whether I
was going to stay closeted or not until I heard one of them use the term
“faggoty,” to describe something her husband had done that had pissed her off. That
cemented my assumption that these were people who would not take kindly to
working alongside a gay person.
So
a large part of the problem was completely out of their hands; they can’t
control the political dialogue surrounding conservatives. However, they could
control the language they used and been aware that the words they were using
could hurt someone. Even when I pointed out that terms like “faggot,” and
“dyke” were potentially offensive, they continued to use them. It created an
environment that was not welcoming to someone who was considering coming out.
--------------------
As
much as I might want to end this article there, I have to admit that I also
contributed to the problem. I let my own assumptions about conservatives affect
the way I handled the situation. As a result, I potentially misjudged my
co-workers. Sometimes the only reason people use pejorative terms when they
don’t think anyone is around who will be offended. Perhaps they didn’t mean
them to be negatively associated with gay people; they just didn’t realize any
gay people were around who might be offended.
In
general, we were all quite respectful and considerate of each other. The middle
aged woman of the group had a difficult time with some of the paperwork, and we
all made sure to help her out as much as we could without being judgmental. My
supervisor and the guy from New York both belonged to two very different
Christian denominations, and their discussions about religious ideology always
remained civil. In short, we all made an effort to be considerate of each
other’s different backgrounds. When looked at in that light, it seems a bit
ridiculous for me to have assumed they would have had a problem with my sexual
orientation.
And
yet as I write this I keep coming back around to the saying: “better safe than
sorry.” Maybe they wouldn’t have cared that I was a lesbian. Maybe they
would have at least been able to get over their issues with my sexuality and
continued to work with me…but then again, maybe not. When viewed through a lens
of self -preservation, perhaps my assumptions were actually justified. Yet, if
I’d always allowed my assumptions of how I thought people would react dictate
whether I came out or not, I’d have never told my parents, and their reaction
was much more positive than I had anticipated.
Needless
to say, I’m still quite conflicted on this point. I completely recognize that I
jumped to conclusions based on their political and religious affiliations
combined with their use of some choice pejorative terms. But was that a
justifiable action? I just don’t know.
--------------------
So
if I could go back and do it all over again, what exactly would I do
differently? In truth, I don’t actually know the answer to that. I would like
to think that when I next find myself in a forest surrounded by conservative people,
I’ll come out of the closet. I’d like to think that I wouldn’t let my
preconceived ideas about right-wing Christians get in the way. Plus, I’d like
to think that I’d be brave enough to be completely honest about who I am all
the time.
Ideally
I would find some moment in one of the early conversations we had to casually
bring up my sexual orientation. Seeing as it was during the summer, I could
have so easily mentioned Pride. I took a vacation day to go to San Francisco
for Pride anyway; I could have just told them why I was going to the city,
instead of making up a reason. Really, I could have used any number of
opportunities to mention it without making it some huge deal. I’d like to think
that is how I will handle it if this situation ever comes up again. But
actually I just don’t know; the next time I’m in the woods with a bunch of
conservatives I might end up doing the exact same thing, because I still have
many of the same concerns now that I did then.
--------------------
In
the end, what I’m left with is advice for anyone who finds themselves in a
situation similar to mine:
§ Don’t
jump to conclusions. Conservative
doesn’t equal anti-gay.
§ Give
your co-workers a chance. They just might
surprise you.
§ Be
empathetic. You might be the first out LGBT person they’ve
ever met.
§ Understand
your co-worker’s perspective. It might take a
while for your co-worker to become comfortable with your sexual orientation.
§ Be
respectful. If you’re going to come out, find a way to casually
work coming out into a conversation without making it a huge deal.
And
to all the self-identified conservative Christians (or anyone else) who find
themselves among a group of relative strangers, I say this:
§ Don’t
jump to conclusions. Assuming
everyone is straight can make coming out more difficult.
§ Give
your co-workers a chance. Sometimes it
takes a bit of time before people feel comfortable enough to come out.
§ Be
empathetic. You might be bazillionth person they’ve come out
to; it can be nerve-wracking not knowing whether someone be accepting or not.
§ Understand
your co-worker’s perspective. Don’t ask them to
keep it quiet or to not be obvious; romantic relationships make up a large part
of a person’s life.
§ Be
respectful. Refrain from using anti-LGBT slurs; even
something you don’t mean to be hateful can be damaging.
This was originally published at The Good Men
Project.
Don’t worry too much about ur closet time in the woods. It’s time for them right-wing Christians (whatever that is, hehe), and other self-proclaimed righteous ones, to open the windows and doors to their centuries old comfort zones, and let some fresh breeze radically clean out their own dusty closets!
ReplyDeleteThanks for the sentiment and I do agree with what you're saying. At the same time I think some sympathy is necessary for people who have a difficult time escaping their preconceptions. Plus, and more importantly, I think it's important that we give people a chance...and I didn't do that during my "closet time in the woods."
DeleteU did give them a chance. But they refused (or were too blind) to pick up the signals.
DeleteTrue, however I can't really condemn them for not picking up on signals, is what I'm saying. I should have been more upfront. And at the same time, they should have been a heck of a lot more open minded. And I also definitely agree that the burden on them to be more open minded is a lot bigger than on myself to have been upfront. Being open minded is a purely good thing; meanwhile if I'd been upfront I faced potentially serious consequences. I totally recognize that.
DeleteLike on a personal level I'm totally all about how screwed up it is that I felt the need to remain closeted. When I take myself out of the situation, and think about it logically though, is when I recognize that sometimes people are unable to break out of their preconceptions.
Or cherish them and don't want to break out of them. Many even need them to keep their lousy and fragile self-esteem halfway upright. It's then when they seek a scapegoat for their frustrations, guilt feelings, unsolved contradictions between their appalling actions and for instance the Ten Commandments, and ....um.....a bad economy.
DeleteVery true, too.
Delete