I was 10 years old the 1st
time I looked into in a gay bar.
My mom and I were walking down Castro
Street in San Francisco and doing some boutique shopping. It was a beautiful
afternoon. Because the various bars were beginning to get populated, I assume it
was probably around happy hour. I recall seeing this gigantic black man
standing outside of a door wearing jeans, and what I now know to be a leather harness.
His torso looked like a double black diamond alpine ski trail. Loud music was
pumping out from inside and I kept seeing bright flashes of color.
At some point, I
wiggled free from mom, jogged up to the door and asked the big guy out front if
I could look inside. He smiled a brilliantly warm face back to me and said ‘all
right’. He picked me up so I could look into the windows and I saw huge women
dancing about on a stage. It looked fun, and I remember wondering why they were so
big. The man put me down in front of my mom who had finally caught up to me.
She thanked him and he told me that one day, I would be allowed to go inside if
I wanted to. I’d only have to wait about 10 more years.
That club was the
Pendulum and it will serve a purpose in my life forever.
As the years passed by I would poke
and prod my mom’s gay friends about certain things and began to understand the
diverse differences among the gay community. Keep in mind that my mom’s gay
friends were RN’s and physicians. They had accomplished great things in their
lives with their careers. Still though, when it came to their definition of ‘gay’,
they had divided themselves up. The 1st groups I learned about were
the “Bears” and the “Twinks”. Since those definitions were based primarily on
physicality, it was easy to understand. But even though they were in distinctly
different categories, they still socialized together and it wasn’t ever a
situation to which there was an ‘us’
vs. ‘them’.
I am certain many will frown upon
this, but by the age of 16, I had a fake ID and was hitting the gay clubs whenever
possible. I never had sex with anyone, and I didn’t drink alcohol. I would
simply dance and absorb the sense of belonging that I felt. It was like being
free. Soon, I realized that some bars and clubs tailored themselves
specifically to certain lifestyles within the gay community. I discovered that
I was most comfortable within the leather and sports themed gay bars. Those
establishments were filled with jocks and body worshipers. That experience
helped me to realize and understand who I was.
By the time I was 18, I was DJing at
one of the hottest gay bars in Scottsdale. It was a jock bar and I had
developed good friendships with the staff and owners there. I was very in tune with
all that was going on as far as drug use and prostitution. These were things
that were also happening at straight clubs, but I never liked the way it
looked, specifically, I never liked the way it made the gay community look. For
me, my friends learned early on to never pass the marijuana to me because it
would put me to sleep instantly. Since I love my sleep, cocaine or crystal meth
were absolutely unappealing to me. So, if a lot of drug use was occurring around
me, I simply accepted it subconsciously and continued to have my own version of
a good time. I was still very young and naïve, but I was evolving quickly at
the same time.
The one thing I remember most however,
was the sense of belonging and camaraderie, It didn’t matter what lifestyle
within the LGBTQ community you represented, you were accepted. More than that –
you were supported. I am certain that there was judgment, cattiness and bad
behavior amongst some, but I was afforded the privilege of not having to
associate with those people.
Today, at 34 years of age, I have a decidedly different outlook on the LGBTQ community. Most importantly however, I miss them. I miss the feeling of belonging because I have been the odd man out in prison for so many years.
In my experience, those from the LGBTQ
community who come into the prison system are perhaps more damaged, more lost
than most. Many of them are HIV positive, have incredibly high levels of dug
addiction and are willing to do just about anything for a dollar. It is sad and
upsetting. The majority adopt female names regardless of the fact that there is
nothing even remotely feminine about them.
In the beginning of my incarceration,
I used to try to befriend other gays in prison, but it truly never worked out. I
was quick to discover that many of them simply wanted me to be their financial
supporter. Additionally, because I knew how to fight and defend myself, they
also wanted me to act as their protector. (Unfortunately, most of them do not
exactly abide by the rules willingly...) So, for my own sanity, I began to
retreat from them.
Soon enough, many of the gays began to
view me as a threat and, as time passed, that sentiment was spread throughout
the prison system. It was clear to me that because I presented myself as a ‘man’,
because I was sober and didn’t fool around with other inmates, that I was
somehow projecting myself as ”better” than them. In response, I began to judge
and discriminate against them because I believe that their behavior was creating
the basis for widespread homophobia in prison. Candidly, their drug use,
behavior and promiscuity in this environment, embarrassed me as a gay man.
The very idea that I do not want to
chance befriending any other gays I come in contact with - speaks volumes. I can’t
say that all gay men in prison are like this, because I know that surely cannot
be true. I simply wish that some of the ones here, in the prisons I have been
at, would carry themselves better, or at least try to better themselves. This
experience, when it comes to prison, has made me sad and very frustrated as a
gay man.
I suppose, at the end of the day, that
we, as human beings, are all intrinsically different. Because of our varying
orientations, we will not always agree with how we choose to lead our
individual lives. I mean, I realize that I am ‘David’, and yes, I am a gay man.
That’s all I can be and work on - because the other various shades of gay, well
I can’t let that affect me. ‘
Not in prison anyway…
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