In this age of book burning, let’s share queer history!
My Queerography: Transforming From Gay Man to a Queer Man
A 70-year-old gay man’s decades journey to redefine and claim queer
Two years ago, I launched a Substack newsletter, introducing myself with , subtitled My Cliff Notes on my book of life as a gay man. It was a glimpse into my identity as a gay man that challenged my comfort zone as a private, non-confrontational Midwesterner.
Recently challenged to share queer history, I first doubted any historical significance of my own life. Revisiting my gayography, I realized my perspective of self and life as a gay man evolved into something broader over my seventy years.
That change was a gradual process, decades in the making, influenced by people, places, fears, and acceptance. Confusion became clear. What once scared me now feeds and grows my pride.
What follows is my queerography, a deeper exploration of my transformation into the queer man I am today. While lacking History Channel epic historical moments, these decades hold pivotal experiences that grew my pride in myself and my queer community.
The 1960s: My First, Fearful Glimpses of Gay Life
As a kid, I remember a salesperson at Brandon’s Menswear who caught my eye. With his colorful sports coats, soft voice, and a certain way of expressing himself, he stood apart from the others. I lacked the words to understand the curiosity he sparked within me. It was something that felt strangely familiar.
In sixth grade, I was drawn to a teacher who wore mod 60s suits, paisley ties, and was kind and expressive. Even though I wasn’t in his class, I saw something in him that spoke to me. Little did I know, he was my first gay role model, showing me that being different could be something beautiful.
My admiration was coupled with fear. In middle and high school, I began to withdraw from anything that could make me stand out, especially effeminate boys. Being seen with them felt like exposing my true self. What if others saw what I hadn’t yet acknowledged in myself?
The Early 1970s: Understanding and Hesitating to Live Gay
A colorful and unapologetically authentic high school teacher fascinated me. Whispers of inappropriate relationships with male students were common. Regardless of the truth, these rumors harmfully internalized being gay as being perverted and shameful.
Entering college in 1972, I sought a change in my gay identity. I spent hours in the university library secretly reading books about living a gay life. The student newspaper’s feature on the gay and lesbian student group was huge for the time. I wanted to join, to belong, but fear held me back. That’s a lifelong regret of mine. It could have been a turning point, but I wasn’t ready.
The Late 1970s: Finding Belonging in the Gay Community
After college, my gay isolation deepened. Although I knew I was gay, I was convinced I was the only gay man among the people around me and those in the wider world. I gradually gained the confidence to take those first steps out of the closet.
I stumbled upon The Advocate and subscribed, receiving it mailed in a plain brown wrapper. I nervously bought The Joy of Gay Sex at a bookstore, feeling judged. I hoped it would be a guide to what was to come. I found The Gay People’s Chronicle, Ohio’s gay weekly newspaper, which made me feel less alone and more connected to the gay community.
A classified ad in The Gay People’s Chronicle for a gay men’s potluck caught my eye, and I decided to go. That evening in 1979 became my coming out to the gay community, and in many ways, to myself. The moment I walked into the room, my assumptions began to fall away.
The men there didn’t fit a single mold. They were masculine, feminine, and everything in between. There were professionals, students, and men of all ages. They were unapologetically themselves. For the first time, I felt a sense of belonging. These weren’t just strangers; They were my community. For the first time, I didn’t feel alone.
The 1980s: Coming Into My Own as an Out Gay Man
The 1980s were the years I entered gay life. I had gay friends for the first time where I could be my authentic self. The Joy of Gay Sex transitioned from a fantasy to a guide for me in my love life. I fell in love for the first time and experienced pain as it ended.
That heartbreak sent me into a spiral of shame and loneliness. I was failing at being the gay man I envisioned. I sought a fresh start in a larger city, four hours away, where I shed those expectations. I found new friendships with the joy of being gay reignited. Then I met him, the man I would love, my husband for the next 36 years and counting.
At the end of the decade, I returned home, not to hide but to live openly and true to myself. The eighties were a decade of internal struggle to reclaim the joy I’d found in 1979, culminating in pride in who I was, no longer hidden.
The 1990s: Finding Inclusivity Beyond My Gay Community
In the 1990s, I formed friendships with lesbians through a faith-based welcoming space for gays and lesbians of my faith. Early in the decade, a young lesbian in our group came out as transgender and began to transition to male. His courage sparked our support for his journey and a deeper commitment to include transgender people in our faith community.
During that decade, our faith community, on both local and national levels, embraced a more comprehensive identity, moving from gay and lesbian to lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT). This shift was mirrored in most formerly gay and lesbian organizations and advocacy groups. Difficult at times, it fostered deeper understanding and growth through honest, challenging conversations that changed perceptions.
I entered that decade finding a more inclusive community. By its conclusion, my initial “gay” viewpoint had broadened to witness a far more expansive and inclusive LGBT reality.
The 2000s: The Rise of My Gay Lutheran Faith Advocacy
The new millennium changed my faith advocacy. LGBT faith groups increased their efforts to fully include LGBT people in their denominations beyond words of welcome. Many faiths grappled with and debated LGBT issues, including same-sex marriage and the ordination of gay and lesbian pastors.
I advocated for these changes by leading the local Lutherans Concerned for LGBT People chapter and the gay and lesbian task force in my regional church body. I was elected as a delegate for our region at the national assembly, where these LGBT resolutions were debated and decided upon.
As the decade closed, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) adopted policies that fully welcomed LGBT members and the ordination of pastors in same-sex relationships. It fulfilled decades of advocacy that saw my faith fully embrace me. Strangely, it had me questioning my place and spirituality as a gay Christian, a journey that continues today.
The 2010s: Discovering the Strength of Allies for My Gay Identity
In 2011, a new chapter began when a lesbian coworker and I met with senior management to discuss the challenges faced by lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender employees. That conversation led us to co-found an LGBT+ employee resource group.
What began as a small group gained momentum through the support of true allies, the straight coworkers who championed justice and equality. They reminded me that the LGBT+ community is not just about identity but about welcoming anyone committed to equality and inclusion.
In the early days, engaging my LGBT colleagues was difficult. Many were hesitant, unsure whether it was safe to be visible. The steady support from allies, including leaders at all levels, shifted the culture. People became more open and willing to join us. Pride colors appeared in cubicles, a powerful, subtle show of support and belonging.
As an openly gay man, I had the opportunity to help create a workplace where LGBT employees and allies could bring their whole selves to work.
The 2020s: Changing my Gay Man’s View of Queer
Younger generations have taken ownership of “queer.” This word, once a weapon used against me as a gay man, is now their proud banner. Initially, it merited a wince when heard, bringing back those painful memories I thought were gone.
But their transformation of its meaning shines through in their confidence in expressing their identities. I moved beyond the sting of “queer” from my past. It broadened my understanding to include nonbinary, genderqueer, and pansexual identities I hadn’t fully grasped. These queers welcomed me into their larger, braver community.
From This Day Forward: I Am Queer.
Today, I proudly identify as queer, a term that encompasses more than my identity as a gay man. I understand the apprehension some older gay men feel towards this word, fearing the loss of their lifelong identity. I see queer as unifying gay men with everyone in our queer family to build a more accepting, safe, and loving world together for all.
My life’s journey has shown me how my understanding has broadened beyond the narrow confines of “gay.” Queerness embodies our fundamental human need for belonging, love, affirmation, and the freedom to live authentically, regardless of sexual identity.
Even with future challenges on the horizon, my faith in the queer community is unwavering. I’ve witnessed firsthand the strength we find by supporting each other and growing stronger together.
And that gives me queer hope.
This story is a response to the Prism & Pen writing prompt, In this age of book burning, let’s share queer history!
