I could have been Asher Brown, Seth Walsh, Tyler Clementi or any of the other teens that recently ended their young, precious lives. I grew up in the 1970s when being gay was still considered to be a mental illness by some. I would go to sleep hoping not to wake up, simply because I liked men. While much has changed over the last 30 years, feelings of isolation remain, much of it brought on by peers.
Like those boys and so many others, I was bullied in school. I guess my locker had some pheromone that attracted people that hated people that were somewhat different, because in the first week of 7th grade a kid scraped the word "fag" on my locker with something sharp like a pocket knife or a nail. Even though I could only see that word when I fumbled with the combination, the sadness and loneliness that the word made me feel lingered in the back of my mind every day of those horrific three years, a feeling that continued until I finally came out publicly on television in 1993. This one act and other daily forms of abuse by my classmates changed my life and my ability to learn and participate in friendships and relationships. The fear that I had because I was different was so strong it convinced me not to attend college; I was not prepared for what the repercussions might be if people knew I was gay.
When I was in my 30s and starting to act, I was completely guarded with my secret, convinced I had to suppress it and pretend it was non-existent. It was so detrimental to me that I only wanted to be with other "professional" actors, where I felt safe. Where I knew that as long as I was in this box of mine, life was going to be safer. "Just DON'T be yourself." That's what I believed and in doing so, I missed so many potential experiences and relationships that I will never know what could have been.
I regret not having the experience of going though the same things at the same time as my peers. Folks often say, "You can go to college now." Of course, it wouldn't be the same. I often travel to universities to do stand-up or lecture, and I learn so much just being around students, faculty and members of gay-straight alliances. Recently, after a performance, I had a good cry when I was back in my hotel because I had been in the presence of these students who are not afraid of being out and accepting who they are. It impressed me immensely.
When I was 21, I made a call to a suicide prevention lifeline because I realized I needed help. I was starting to have thoughts of suicide and I needed someone to stop me, to save my life. I began seeing a counselor after that, who I knew kept everything confidential, but even with my back to her chair, I sat there and lied that I was bi-sexual, uncomfortable to even speak the truth to a professional. It was too hard and I was afraid for my life.
Career-wise, I wanted to be an actor while some in the industry would say I was "too light in the loafers." Memories of all these kids who beat me up and humiliated me all through school came back to me repeatedly in my early years of pursuing my career. Being afraid of people and re-learning how to trust them is a daily reminder of where and how far I have come.
Now I am an actor, a comedian and an advocate for equality. I have been able to get past my childhood and work in my chosen profession. I also have been able to give back to my community by being chair of the Screen Actors Guild National LGBT Actors Committee and a mentor for LifeWorks, which supports LGBTQ youth between the ages of 12-24. I have also produced and performed in a comedy benefit for the past five years to raise money for these kids and to show them there is hope out there.
Doing service for others and accepting the support of others has been my way of healing. I have been able to overcome my feelings of not being "enough." I came to realize that the thoughts in my head are just that and can go out as easily as they entered those many years ago. I can create a new life story by which to live my life. It's 2010 and I don't have to be that kid in the 1970s who was abused and suicidal anymore. I often wish I could take that kid by the hand and show him the life I have now and tell him, "It will get better. I'm someone. Someone with a life and someone that matters. Just like you do."
Follow Jason Stuart on Twitter: www.twitter.com/@jason_stuart
Rev. G. Douglas Fenton: Christian Conversations About Sexuality Must Not Stop
Thank you so much for sharing yourself, Jason.
Thanks for sharing your experience - you are a model for other young men coming up, living powerfully, telling your truth.
I am proud to have known you for so many years, and to know that The Experience workshop has been an important part of your journey.
Honey Ward
ExperienceYourPower.com
There's hope! My sweet neice was about four when we were at a park here in Denver. She saw two men walking by holding hands. She asked her Mother why. My wonderful sister-in-law just off handedly said, "Well, you come from a family with a Mommy and a Daddy. But some families have two Daddies and some have two Mommies. Those are two Daddies." My neice just said, "Oh, OK". She's 16 now and completely accepting of such things, to the point of being an advocate for a cousin who is very young and gay. If we've done it in my family, we can do it in my country.
"I would go to sleep hoping not to wake up, simply because I liked men."
As a young teenager, I would often go to sleep hoping the same, although, as a casual believer in God at the time, I prayed rather than hoped. On nights when I was feeling unusually upbeat, I'd simply pray to wake up NOT liking men. Guess what? God couldn't be bothered to answer either prayer...thank God!
The "It Gets Better" campaign has got me to thinking that not only do we adult gays and lesbians need to share our painful experiences with young gays and lesbians; we also need to share them with each other, and especially with our straight friends and allies: I present myself to the world as if I were ready-made, sprung from the earth armed with reasonably coherent sense of self. I encourage the assumption that my life's trajectory traces a path that is roughly parallel to the lives of my straight friends: anguished youth, unfocused 20s, the exquisite pain of lost loves, the successes and disappointments of pursuing a career.
I know I'm not alone in doing that.
Keep writing and acting and doing stand-up.
You have fans.
And some of us fans have known you for decades and been fans the entire time.
To be sure, our shared experiences are real, and should be emphasized if one wishes to forge bonds with other people (which I strongly encourage). But there are crucial differences in experience, too. Maybe we gloss over those differences at our own peril. The more gays and lesbians emphasize our same-ness, the more we fuel the counter-argument: "Why do they need 'special' rights? Their lives are no different from mine!"
In reality, there are several differences. The most important one is that a gay or lesbian youth is significantly less likely to reach the age where the life of your neighbor or co-worker or friend seems more or less like your own.
I didn't tell for 30 years. I blamed myself for bringing the event on myself. Instead, I set about reinventing myself as someone who would appear "straight" in the way I walked, the way I talked and in the company I kept. One way I did that was to walk down the hallways of my school and look every one of my attackers in the eye: Doing so helped me realize they were afraid of me as much as I was afraid of them.
After high school, I became a classic Type A control freak. I'd shout down anyone who disagreed with me and insisted on taking charge of any project I undertook. I married, had children and was constantly on guard for any signs of seeming "gay."
At age 40, I had a nervous breakdown. During the recovery process, in a mental health counselor's office, I said out loud, while in a fetal position, the words, "I'm gay" for the first time.
Since then, I've had opportunity to confront one of my assailants since then, but did not take advantage of it. He has to live with himself. I'm fine with who I am and that's all that matters.
... wait... Bill? Bill O'Reilly?
(kidding, kidding... I'm really glad that you've come to terms with yourself. Those rapists will never be comfortable with who they are, because they'll always have what they did hanging over their heads. You're comfortable with who you are. You won.)
After I graduated from high school, I moved away and never had anything to do with my high school for 30 years. In 1999, I went back for a 30th class reunion.
I made inquiries. One of the four people who attacked me was killed in a drunk driving accident shortly after high school. Another went to Vietnam and died there.
A third went off to college and then disappeared. He apparently NEVER has any contact with the old high school crowd.
The fourth was the guy who drove the car. I learned that he had married and divorced three times ---- all to beautiful girls from our high school. I also learned that he had founded an online high school alumni group. I got the address and joined.
He spends a lot of time moderating it and is always full of rose-colored remembrances about this and that event that occurred back in the 1960s, and other alumni will comment in the same vein. One day, I typed these words: "You know, not everything in high school was so peachy-keen, Bill. Some of us had a less happy experience." Several people asked what I meant, but I didn't answer. He posted one comment: "Yes, I know."
I think he remembers the event very clearly and has to live with it, just as I do.
I do think it comes back on bullies.I read recently ,of a media personality,who I have seen humiliate people on TV, to be entertaining,sired a DS child.All of a sudden he wanted loving community.I wanted to tell him everything would be fine,but I could nt,cos there are people like him,who enjoy cruelty ,in the world,that his child would be living in.I had to live in it,you had to live in it,now another innocent child will live in it.
I d forgotten my teenage tormentors calling me'gay'and 'lesbian' until this week.I never knew why before and now I do.
Be blessesd-Helen