#Yearof50. Entry 19: A Little Respect

You never stop coming out. After many years of struggle, I finally came out to myself in the early 1990s. Well, sort of. It’s complicated. What would the LGBTQ sorting hat do with me? I had written a paper at Queen’s in 1992 on how I thought the queer liberation movement needed to move on from the restrictive walls of labels. Something to that effect. I was young and riled up. Bronski Beat, Erasure, and Depeche Mode were on heavy rotation. And, yes, Indigo Girls and Ani Difranco too.

So you finally push your rock to the top of the mountain and then you have to figure out who you can share your big news with. And you realize much later that you have to ask them to get in the closet with you too, as they can’t tell anyone else. For you are terrified of the rejection, the shame, the small cuts that will run so deep if left unattended.

And then you share some more and worry and hope some more. And it’s rinse and repeat and you never stop having to go through the closet door. And the churches and the government and the media and that leader that singer that rapper that comic that preacher that book ban that chicken joint that high school that beating that murder that cacophony of hate all conspire to tell you that you don’t matter.

And so when the hand of love, of friendship, of care reaches out you crawl out of the closet with hope but forever wary. They shine a light on the darkness that not everyone can see. But those who have also seen the monsters know the look in your eye. And you are not alone.

I have a small but mighty circle of love that sustains me. I am blessed with a husband, the most precious friends, and my family. And yet I do not walk unafraid.

So, to bolster myself, I help organize events for Queen’s University Association for Queer Employeees, I write an op-Ed in Queen’s Gazette, effectively coming out to the entire university community. I participate in the Kingston Pride March. And yet I do not walk unafraid.

In 2017, I join The 519 and meet the most extraordinary assembly of humans devoted to equity, justice, and liberation for 2SLGBTQ communities. I witness resilience, dedication, compassion, and a unity of purpose. I am awoken, humbled, and inspired.

My colleagues are fierce and caring, angry and deeply loving, and dedicated beyond belief. Their capacity for empathy knows no bounds. I am in awe of all of them. They are truly an Army of Lovers.

The 519 has given more to me than I will ever be able to give back. But I will do my best. Helping to found the Queen’s Queer Alumni Chapter is a start. Perhaps one day I will walk unafraid. To borrow from my favourite band, I am still trying to free myself to be myself. The journey continues.