You're Gay - Really??!

Dyke, bull-dyke, butch, lesbos, carpet muncher, lipstick lesbian, and lesbian were the first terms I heard upon being introduced to the lexicon of “lesbianism.” I was first "exposed” to homosexuality upon attended a private women’s college, Sweet Briar (or sweet bush as termed by the men from the surrounding schools), between 1985 and 1989. The student population of 860 students was nestled in isolated Central Virginia in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains.

I once heard that culture shock is not when one goes to visit a foreign country; but it is when one returns home, that they experience culture shock. So, let me put this into context so you understand from whence I come in this story of a major personal experience of diversity in higher education....

I attended four years of high school at Seoul American High School in Seoul, Korea. During my time overseas, I had two short family trips to the United States for what the U.S. Department of State termed, “R&R” or rest and recreation. My father was a U.S. diplomat and my mother – a native Korean, but U.S. citizen – also worked at the Embassy as a Visa Counselor. My parents have always been about exploring other countries, cultures, religions and beliefs. Having a culturally diverse family created an environment open to different beliefs and practices. I recall always being told that I did not necessarily have to agree with a practice or a belief, but I needed to try to understand the context and respect it at the very least. I think this was also something engrained from when I was a younger child and my father was a college professor. I recall meals with faculty from other departments, debating the pros and cons of western civilization based curriculum versus smatterings of pan-Asian courses, thrown in with some science (my mother was a science librarian). Dinner conversations were always lively.

My high school class was small – about 100 students. Reflecting back, my class was ethnically diverse as we were all from military or diplomatic backgrounds. Socio-economic class was consistent and no one paid too much attention to whose father was a colonel, civilian and so forth. Sexual identity or preference never crossed my mind. At my high school, the “hot topics” were who was dating/sleeping/breaking up/losing their virginity to whom. I do recall a male friend joining our football team’s cheerleading squad and being jeered at and called “fag.” He stuck it out with the cheerleading, and perhaps silenced those jeers by joining the wrestling team. My comprehension of homosexuality was very limited. To call me “naïve” is an understatement.

Unbeknown to me, my first encounter with homosexuality was when we lived in Hartford, CT. We had wonderful neighbors, Romeo and Chuck. They lived in a gorgeous brick rambler decorated with gilded gold leaf furniture, heavy drapes, a kitchen to die for (according to my mother), candelabras on their baby grand piano, and two precious teacup poodles. Chuck used to come over and watch soap operas with my mom or go with her to run errands. Romeo worked at a publishing firm and brought me books to read. I remember asking my Dad why they weren’t married (to women) and didn’t have kids, and he explained to me that they were best friends who would always be together. I accepted that explanation and never gave it a second thought.

So move forward to high school - “typical hetero high school kids;” then fast forward to college. As we all know, attending college is an education in more ways than books and lectures. The fact that there were those with “alternative lifestyles” was an education for me – a sheltered embassy kid. My dormitory was on the third floor of what was referred to as “the virgin vault” because we were not allowed to have male guests after midnight, making the dorm the most popular for the surrounding men’s schools that had Greek fraternity pledges on scavenger hunts. My freshmen year was typical – classes, boys, partying, finding change to do laundry, and late night talks with the girls in my dorm. I befriended a girl across the hall from me and we frequently did homework together on her bunk bed, snacking on oodles of noodles and popcorn. One night she reached over and started to massage my neck and shoulders. Only it was a lousy massage and felt more like caresses. I got a “weird feeling,” and looked at her with my eyebrow up, asked “what are you doing?” I shrugged her off and she quickly withdrew her hands and apologized. I became uncomfortable, shut my books and said I was going to bed. We never studied together again and I was aloof in her presence.

The next semester, she dropped out of school after she had apparently “come on” (or maybe it was came out?) to her roommate. Everyone on my dorm floor was hysterical that a lesbian had been amongst us. Wanting to be a part of the discussion, I relayed what had happened and everyone jumped away exclaiming, “ewww, gross!” Why didn’t I tell anyone, did I like it? Was I gay too? I was mortified, angry, and embarrassed. I made sure that everyone knew that I thought the entire experience had been awful and was glad she had left school. The hubbub died down and things got back to normal. I relayed the experience to my parents on my winter break, and they expressed sadness for the girl and disappointment in my reaction and behavior. They asked how it would feel to be ostracized for being different. I was dense and didn’t understand. My dad said, “Well, look in the mirror…” The statement hit home. I had been ostracized and treated poorly by Koreans (someone once spit on me in a market place), Japanese and white Americans for being mixed - for being Amerasian. I had been perceived as sub-standard, not normal, defective. I was able to relate to this and thought long and hard about this girl’s feelings. The girl’s exit from school spurred a great deal of classroom discussion and debate around the topic. Homosexuality came up in my literature, art history and philosophy courses. This was my formal introduction to the topic.

By my junior year, five girls had come out of the closet, so to speak. Two were close friends of mine and group project partners for a class I was taking. I knew they were gay from rumors. One night, I got the nerve to ask one of my friends if the rumors were true. She paused a long time and told me that her two brothers who were at the Citadel were gay. I was amazed and asked how they were handling that at a military school. She said they were keeping it secret. I asked what her parents thought, and she teared up saying, “Bunny (her mom) and Pops would die of shame if they knew.” She then said, I think being gay is genetic, it’s not a choice like so many people think. I asked her again, are you gay because you THINK you’re gay or because you think you inherited the genes. I was so confused – it was like she was telling me she was sick. She laughed and said, “No, I’m gay and I have girlfriend!” She blurted this out and then looked mortified, begging me not to tell anyone. What followed was a long conversation about being gay, when she knew, if her brothers knew, what it was like having sex with another woman, and so on. I felt like I was getting a crash course on Lesbianism 101. The irony is she kept telling me that she too was learning to be gay. My friend’s biggest fear was her family finding out. I was scared for her too.

That March evening, in our junior year, was a turning point in our lives. I learned so much that evening, but primarily, I learned what it meant to be a friend, to listen and to try to understand. She learned to trust - to feel comfortable exploring her thoughts, and to share her experiences. She too was processing. Richard Allen Steven’s article, Understanding gay identity development within the college environment, summarizes the experience my friend was relaying to me regarding self-acceptance and self-acknowledgement…coming out to self: “The process included a recognition of being different, an assumption that it was a phase through which to progress, a cessation of lies and secrets, abandonment of heterosexual privilege, and a coming to terms with one’s gay identity” (p. 191).
Years later, we met for drinks in Washington, D.C. with her same girlfriend. She recalls that conversation and she to recalls it as a turning point. Diversity, especially in higher education, is learning, respecting, and trusting the differences amongst all of us. Diversity goes beyond gender and skin color. Within higher education, it is the opportunity to embrace all around us who think, look, act and value different things. Accepting, embracing and sharing experiences are what makes like life richer and more diverse. We still keep in touch. Her brothers are no longer in the military. She has a partner who she married last year and they are adopting a baby. Her parents – well, they are still trying to figure it out…holding on to their own beliefs and values – not accepting, making excuses that it’s a phase that all three children are going through. So be it. What counts is that my friend is happy and has started her own family who embrace diversity. The good news is, the cycle will continue.

Source:
Steven, R. A. (2004). Understanding Gay Identity Development Within the College Environment. Journal of College Student Development , 45 (2), 185-206.