The first time I came out was in a letter to my best friend Alison when I was 19. She cried. Not because I was gay, but because she was moved by the effort I made to assure her that things wouldn't change between us, that she would remain my closest and dearest friend, and that nothing -- not even something as shocking as me wanting to have sex with dudes -- would change that.
I wanted her to be comfortable, so I put her feelings first.
And it went pretty well, so I told my parents. They were visiting me at school, and after a tense meal at Fuddruckers, I chose to break the news at an intersection on Route 1. The light changed three times before my dad put the car in gear and began driving back to my dorm. Before I got out of the car, I handed my mother some PFLAG literature that I had kept in my pocket during the whole visit, and I told her about a group that met regularly near where she lives. I still remember the feeling of that clammy, wrinkled pamphlet when she immediately handed it back to me with a terse, "That's OK. We're not joiners." I got it. I mean, I'm not much of a joiner myself.
But I wanted her to feel comfortable knowing she was not alone. I wanted her to be comfortable.
I took a similarly apologetic approach for years, employing a million and one tactics to assure co-workers, agents, neighbors, bosses, plumbers, electricians, chatty cab drivers, landlords, strangers and new acquaintances alike that there was nothing in or about me to fear. Even in New York, where you're gay until proven otherwise, I was careful to parse my words, prevaricate for the comfort of others and subtly pepper in the tell-tale personal pronoun in order to introduce the subject of a boyfriend.
Then, in the fall of 2001, I got this job, one that promised a kind of financial security I had never experienced in my years as an actor. But just before I was to sign the papers that would deliver the pay-off for years of hard work in obscurity, a scary thought crossed my mind: "Would it make a difference to the people that were putting so much trust in me if they were to discover that the person they were hiring to represent their brand was gay?"
I can report that 10 years into this fantastic job, my being gay has never been made an issue among the people with whom I work. Believe me, I know how fortunate I am; even though I think corporate America is way ahead of Washington on this, the relative sense of security I enjoy in my job is not shared by many LGBTQ people in the workplace. This, in fact, is one of the themes we explore in my film The Green, which is available on VOD everywhere today, Oct. 18th! (Good plug, no?)
Last spring, in the interest of discussing my work as a filmmaker, I agreed to sit down with a reporter for the very first time in my career. The story that resulted from that interview appeared in a national publication that I respect tremendously and to which I also happen to have had a subscription. There was an angle to the piece that painted the picture of an unassuming guy utterly disempowered by -- indeed "shackled" to -- a big, bad corporation. A good angle, but also totally inaccurate.
But the real news was that I had gone on record with my sexual orientation, and the tempest this created in the media teapot was nothing short of mortifying, particularly for someone utterly unacquainted with the vagaries of celebrity. Up until this point, mind you, I had absolutely no public persona outside the notoriety that accompanied my character in commercials. Within one day of the article landing, I was trending on Yahoo!, and the story had been picked up by newswires, gossip columnists, television and entertainment news broadcasts, late-night talk show hosts and, yes, even the esteemed Huffington Post, which, over the years, had also demonstrated an inexplicable interest in my real estate transactions, political donations and changes in weight. Matt Lauer's office called my mother at home.
Within 48 hours the story had been distorted even further, with a headline in the New York Post that read, "Former 'Can you hear me now?' guy reveals bizarre life." Granted, it's the Post, so, you know... But it is worth noting that not only did that headline imply that I was no longer working for the company, but it also characterized the revelation of my sexuality as something "bizarre." Cheyenne Jackson, who co-stars in The Green (another nearly seamless plug, thank you!) and has also found his sexual orientation fodder for media gossip on a much larger scale, sent me a text after seeing this headline that read, "Let me guess, you feel like someone is scraping your face with a cheese grater right about now." And that is exactly how it felt.
Oh, did I mention that Ellen's producers called to ask if I wanted to come on and do a "bit" about how I was now unemployed? My response: "Do you think Ellen wanted to do a 'bit' after she'd been publicly fired and humiliated? I don't think so." Maybe that's why they don't want me on the show now to promote my film. And by the way, I'd like to repeat that despite what you may have read, I was not fired for being gay. I was not fired at all.
It also bears noting that my own community was not much more supportive than the mainstream media. My fellows in the gay blogosphere were considerably more vociferous about my weight gain the previous January than they were about my coming out. No confetti, tambourines or coming out cakes for me. If we really want our public figures to come out of the closet, we have to be careful that when they do take this huge step, we don't greet the news with a jaded, "Yeah, it's about time. What took him so long?" or, "Who cares?" or, "As if we didn't know..." It is a considerable risk, both financially and personally, for many people, and a little kindness would be appreciated from the homefront.
In the mortification that resulted from this two-day news cycle, I began to think about all the years I had spent trying to make other people feel comfortable with my sexuality, and about the simpering, apologetic tone I would employ in order not to threaten anyone. And I wondered where that had gotten me.
So I'm gonna do this one more time, and I'm gonna do it right:
I am gay.
There, I said it. If it makes you uncomfortable, too bad. It's not going to change. I wouldn't change it if I could. And if you have a problem with it, it is because you are either ignorant, brainwashed or a latent homosexual yourself.
I would like to finish this blog entry where I started. Alison has, in fact, remained my closest and dearest friend to this day, and I enjoy a great adult relationship with my parents. Would this be the case if I had handled things differently, if I'd been a little less sensitive to their feelings in my approach? In retrospect, the answer is yes. If those relationships were meant to last and develop -- and apparently they were -- we would have worked through it, like so many things friends and family negotiate over time.
By the way, you may send coming-out presents (and cake) to my attention at The Huffington Post. Or better yet, just check out my movie The Green on VOD.
The Green is available Oct. 18 on cable "Movies on Demand" and everywhere you can rent or download movies online. For more, visit thegreenthemovie.com.
Paul Marcarelli - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
'Verizon Guy' Paul Marcarelli Breaks His Silence
It reminds me of one of the early jobs I had after college. In the office a bunch of us were asked to introduce ourselves. The girl who went before me told us she was a microbiology major and a lesbian. At that time I was surrounded by people who viewed the world exclusively through "gay eyes" and so as I introduced myself I added the fact that I was gay. Now thinking back I feel this information was completely irrelevant. And it's not a mistake I'll make again.
Someday I too would like to see a time when sexual orientation is as irrelevant as left handedness or big feet. But that time is not now. People are fighting to keep gay people from being accepted as equals.
My Mother, bless her conservative Republican soul, had an Uncle Norman. and Uncle Norman was a hair dresser in the 1940s in Des Moines IA. she was the middle child, kinda felt lost. But when she was sick, Uncle Norman would come from Des Moines to take care of her. so My John Wayne lovin' Mom was very Pro "anything different is okay with me". Back in the 60s, I wanted to put purple strands in my hair. mom said fine. My Uncle L. came to visit with an old friend, and they slept in the guest room. Mom said fine. As conservative as my Mom was, she never thought of any person as less than or weirder than any other. I miss her.
It is important for all gay people to be out so that they are not participating in their own oppression. It is important because we are still fighting for marriage equality and all the other rights that straights take for granted. It is important for the gay teens who are being bullied and commiting suicide. In a world of tolerance and equal rights, gayness would be no more important than eye color or left handedness, but we don't live in that world.
"When you judge another, you do not define them, you define yourself." - Wayne Dyer
Really?
Because sex is all I see in the gay community. And if people aren't talking about fashion or who has gained weight or who is ugly or cute, or who is worth it and who's not, it's how many people did you pick up this weekend? Even someplace as innocuous as a "gay" coffee shop is actually quite sexualized beneath the lattes and chocolat chaud.
You know how you can go to a grocery store (a "straight grocery store") and pretty much expect that you're not being sized up and mentally lusted after or discarded by people around you? Well, it's never been a feeling I've gotten in any gay hangout. I think most people in a gay hangout are probably cruising for sex.
And yes, I know it's possible for straight people to meet each other at a "straight grocery store" but the point's that sex is by far not the defining quality of said grocery store.
The more people who come out, the less sensational it becomes.
When I first bought my 600sf plain-Jane fixer-upper, my elderly neighbors were wonderful. I mowed their lawn, they gave me soup. I baked muffins, they shared their garden bounty. When my boyfriend moved in, they became cold and I saw them scurry into their house when they saw my front door open. Six years later, I was able to help the hubby while his wife was in the hospital for several weeks, he asked some questions about me being gay and that was that. Now things are back to being friendly. It's social progress and I just hope we progress fast enough to save young people.
I have discovered only those with inner feelings of themselves being gay are the ones that overreact. For instance Rick Santorum and Michelle Bachmann. Both of them have this hate because others live their lives as true out human beings and they are constrained to follow the path they have chosen which is against their nature.
You have a great post and thank you for it.
Best of luck to you Paul and always enjoyed hearing you say Can You Hear Me Now......
P.S. Yes I did always have that feeling you were... Must be the Gaydar kicking in LOL
All the best Paul.
Rob in Florida