The Rural Municipality of Prison and other Townships

So Val Marie has put me in a position that I would wish upon nobody.

I love this town - I love my job. I love that every evening I get to see an incredible sunset, or I can go for a bike ride through a well-protected and advancing National Park. I can go for a hike through the park and discover new wildflowers, new terrain, and new wildlife. When you work for a park with over 15 endangered animal species and another 30 endangered plants, you always, always get the sense that you may just find something that has been seen for a very long time.

I've found cairns, arrowheads, dinosaur bones - things that have not been known of for many thousands or millions of years. This is just part of my job. A fantastical day at the office.

And yet...

I've not been able to sleep for the past couple of nights though. And there is no good reason to be offered except for an intense fear that has been a whispering memory for the past year but that choked the vitality out of my life in the twenty odd years that existed before that.

I am afraid of being myself in Val Marie. This stairway to heaven is creaking a bit too much - I'm uneasy here. I'm hiding in masks that I didn't know I had anymore.

The casual bigotry, homophobia, hatred that suffocates me is expressed in that most-vile of all weapons - humour. I am not the only victim; I should be thankful that I am not Metis or Indian. But it is very casual - just as I remember it being in high school.

De facto.

As though nothing else has ever existed, and nothing else has any reason to exist.

The place in which I find myself is a prison of open prairie. Its as though I was released from my fear, my hatred of the world, my refusal to be myself for a short period and then reminded of the reality of my environment. I've pushed myself back into my cell. Closed the door. Locked it - hidden the key in Regina.

I knew this was going to happen. I just had no idea it was going to hurt this much. I don't even remember what its like to talk about men. The vocabulary is lost.



Last night I texted a friend of mine in Halifax, asking her to remind me that it was ok to be gay. It surprised me that I was silently crying in my bed - courteous and selfish enough to not want to wake my ever-present roommates.

I am so alone.

Life's a Dance.

I wonder if they can feel it. That moment of hesitation just before you say yes. Can they sense the insincerity of the touch, the eyes - the words? Can they smell it in the air.

Is there something even more primitive than this that triggers the question?

Last night I went out for a night on the town. Not much of one, because Val Marie is a town of 100 people and because I worked this morning at 8 am and had to be ready to interact with really enthusiastic flower-lovers as we hiked through the park and I showed them the dozens of plants that are currently in bloom. But it was still a night on the town.

I drank two Coca- Colas. Which is a lot for me - and which is far better than two Pilsner - which is repeatedly the worst beer available in Saskatchewan. It really is an unfortunate drink - horse urine. Even worse when you watch people pay to consume it.

Anyways, there was a concert in Val Marie last night. An Irish Soul Singer named Stephen McGuire. It was relatively enjoyable - and there were certainly moments that hinted at a talent far greater than what he exhibited last night. He convinced me that owning a loop pedal is a good thing, and that minimalism can be infectious.

Last night involved dancing. Particularly the two step.

So I danced. The two step. With the only partner I have ever known - a woman. It was quite funny how it is that we danced; long story short, she was forced to ask me by means of humour and embarassment.

I had fun. We sang a long to My Girl by The Temptations together.

I enjoyed the irony.

And looked forward to the day when I would be two-stepping with a man instead.

changes...

You know, I’m learning stuff about myself in Val Marie that I didn’t expect to learn. First of all, the moment you hear that rattle somewhere around you and you haven’t got the slightest idea where that noise is coming from in the thick green net of grass that has caught you, there is an undeniable fear in your gut. You are certain that you will die. Until you see the perpetrator. That snake. The same one that has been draining the blood from your face whenever you wake up in the middle of the night and think that something is on your bedroom floor. That is something that I have learned.

Rattlesnakes are terrifying.

Even moreso when you have a group of people trusting you to be the expert on how to handle encounters with them. Am I really supposed to know? Stand still. Let it make the first move – it will always be in the opposite direction.

Make sure that you check your floors after you wake up. Even if you live two stories off the ground. Early in the morning or in the middle of the night, you are certain that those venomous monsters have wings and are looking for ways to cause your muscular tissue to collapse by merely sinking their teeth beyond the thin layers of protective flesh and injecting their venom into my tissue.

It is their single goal in life. I am their prey.


I have been bitten a couple of times this week by snakes. The teeth have not thus far sunk in, and I have not made noise revealing my pain yet, but I can feel the venom spreading. Soon it will reach my heart, and I will stop functioning.

I don’t know how it is that I have changed. There were times when I could let these things wash over me. When I identified and yet had no ounce of pride in who I was made to be and who I look forward to becoming.

I knew that it would be hard to be in Val Marie for the summer – that my growing desire to be a part of a relationship would feel even more stifled here than it would be in Regina. That is undeniable. And frustrating. But I fully underestimated how painful it is to be cursed, insulted, and broken by words thrown as spears by people who do not know that their victim is nearby.

The residents of Val Marie, particularly some of the young men, have adopted the attraction between men as the grandest of all insults. Everything that sucks is gay. The term cocksucker is used to describe those men who are not well liked. Things that are disagreeable are gay. For example, tonight at the village bar the Stanley Cup final was being played. After the Chicago win, one of the girlfriends of a Chicago player came from the stands, jumped onto her boyfriend and wrapped her legs around him while he circled the rink on his skates. This is gay. Why? Because it is a public display of affection.

As I mentioned above, I was once able to oversee these insults – being gay was just a part of me that I could overcome, so the insults they were tossing out inflicted very little pain. Nothing I couldn’t surmount. It was just a part of my society, I accepted it. I looked forward to having a wife, with children that were birthed from her loins and the product of a night of passionate sex, and being totally in love with my life. Happy.

Tonight I want to cry.

I feel alone. So thoroughly alone.

Because I am still proud of who I am. Not just what I am, but who I am.


I just have nobody to tell that to. In Val Marie, Saskatchewan. The coolest place on earth.



Prairie Rattlesnake, Crotalus viridis viridis. My enemy.

Residents of Val Marie, Homo sapiens. My neighbour.

I have been bitten a couple of times this week by snakes. The teeth have not thus far sunk in, and I have not made noise revealing my pain yet, but I can feel the venom spreading. Soon it will reach my heart, and I will stop functioning.


It is their single goal in life. I am their prey.


On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. "Teacher," he asked, "what must I do to inherit eternal life?"

"What is written in the Law?" he replied. "How do you read it?"

He answered: " 'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind'; and, 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'"

"You have answered correctly," Jesus replied. "Do this and you will live."

But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, "And who is my neighbor?"

Home. Again.

So today was my first day off work in Val Marie, Saskatchewan. In this bustling town of 110 people, where every business except for my office closes on a Sunday, what is one to do for entertainment to last 24 hours?

Well, you'd be surprised how much is available. I've already found that two of my seven nights of freedom during the week are going to be routinely abducted by a movie being shown at the local community hall (this past Friday it was Clash of the Titans - which almost got me posting about Sam Worthington and how much I wish he would do just one scene without his shirt on), and another night devoted to an ongoing indoor soccer tournament between some of the local researchers (biologists and archaeologists).

Today though, I read. A lot. Finished off Nineteen Eighty-Four and am now moving on to A Single Man by Christopher Isherwood. When I wasn't reading, I walked around town and found a church with a piano that is open 24 hours a day. I quickly gathered my music from my home and practiced. For more than an hour and a half - it was so nice to return to an activity I was expecting to abandon for months. I also, almost, went to my first ever cow-branding - only missing my ride because of poor communication. When all that ended, I made myself a salad, packed it into some tupperware, walked to a local radio tower and climbed up to a platform, and watched the sun set. Sounds pretty much idyllic. If I ever figure out how to be gay in this town, I may just fall in love with it out here.

Interestingly enough, I was asked earlier today if I was gay. I think it was a passing question - perhaps even an attempt at a joke. I denied that I was - it wasn't exactly a safe sort of scenario. But this is the second or third time that I have done this since I have been 'out', and each time it makes me more and more retrospective about whether or not I am comfortable with who I am. And each time I ask this question, I get shoved between a rock (the reality that I may not be in a safe place) and a hard place (the principle that I should be proud of myself regardless of who and where I am).

But, once again I am spending too much time talking about myself when the point of this post is to develop the topic of Malawi and Africa and their ideals about homosexuality, because I have found an interesting article on BBC Newsworld that considers how Africans - at least those who have been informed - have perceived Malawi's defence of traditional sexual identities.

What I have found by doing some digging is an interesting story – a debate between the rich and poor, with Tiwonge Chimbalanga and Steven Monjeza being used as pawns in the middle of an international storming of the bridgades. And many Africans being none-too-pleased with it.

You see, many people from countries that donate enormous amounts of aid to Malawi and other African countries that have laws against homosexuality have recently been thrown over the edge of tolerance for intolerable legal policy; the recent development of legislative documents in Uganda and the arrests of these two men have tossed them into the deep seas of international scrutiny. As such, many internationals (for lack of a better short-form term) have said that their governments should pull aid from countries that do not fully recognize the individual rights that many states in the West use as the compass for legislation. One person, writing under the name modernJan, wrote:

"Should we leave Africa to handle homosexuality at its own pace and in whichever way it sees fit?" Imagine it's the late 1930's and someone asks the question: "should we leave Nazi Germany to handle Jewry at its own pace and in whichever way it sees fit?" My answer: if Africa starts killing off homosexuals than the West should kill off the flow of aid money. How could anyone condone that gay people in the West pay taxes that are partly used to prop up regimes in Africa that persecute gays?

Her idea was mimicked by WilliamLondon1977:

Honestly, these backward little countries and their "we reject Western moral paradigms but we actually rely on their money and ongoing goodwill" - if they don't care about evolving towards globally accepted standards of human rights or how they are seen by more enlightened, developed countries, fine, we get it -- but they shouldn't expect any aid or anything. Try paying for your anti-retrovirals with a crate of chickens and see how far you get.

This is extremely sad indeed.

Fascinating.

The response in Africa has been very different. Many Malawians have used this court ruling and their stand against international powers as a means of asserting their sovereignty as a state to create and impose their own laws. On a website called the BNL Times which acts as an online daily for Malawi, many blogs and features have offered their perspective on the events surrounding Tiwonge Chimbalanga and Steven Monjeza’s arrests. What one finds is a high degree of pride.

In the view of Vales Machila, it is the right of the government of Malawi to enforce the laws that they have created within the confines of their constitution, even if they conflict with the ideals of the United Nations. This is the very definition of sovereignty; and, so long as the domestic population is in support of laws, they should not be repealed. It was the wheels of justice that turned and caught Chimbalanga and Monjeza underfoot, not hatred.

In order to defend his perspective, he references the Biblical ordinances against homosexuality – a source that is increasingly recognized as insufficient to defend legislation in the West. In Malawi, it would seem, that many of these laws are still valid. Machila also recognizes the role that power relationships between states has played in the development of international scrutiny:

Why should our laws be unimportant to anyone, just because we are a poor nation? This is abhorrent and grossly unfair. Malawi, by its own laws, committed no wrong in arresting and convicting the duo. It is most unfair for little Malawi to be threatened with aid suffocation for simply standing by its rights. Malawi, though tiny on the map, has rights too and her votes count on world forums. Where is respect for sovereignty of nations the world so much preaches about?

What I have found most interesting is that Africa has not always been a continent caught in homophobia. Like many ancient cultures that had limited communication with the Judeo-Christian world, homosexuality was once revered as a means of understanding the sacred. It was not uncommon for chiefs of African tribes to have, amongst their wives, boys and men with whom they would perform sexual acts. African homophobia is a product of colonialism – the laws upon which the modern African constitutions are based are European in origin. So, in a twisted way, the defense of Malawian laws against homosexuality is really a defense of the European influence in Malawi rather than a push against international pressures. What is being seen here is a complete acceptance of the immense changes that European colonization inflicted on the regions they took over, not a historically accurate reclamation of Africa – just a imagined sense of what Africa represents.

Daniel Nyirenda writes perhaps a more convincing tune, and also recognizes that steps are needed for Malawi to decrease their dependency on foreign aid so that they can stand up for their persecution of homosexuals in the future. He writes the following:

Some of the donors, in their argument, say Tiwonge Chimbalanga, a bride, and Steven Monjeza, groom, had not wronged anyone by holding an open gay wedding. This thinking is purely Western where they value personal freedoms ahead of societal freedoms. However, this argument is not a one-size-fits-all because here in Africa, we greatly respect societal values. It is against this philosophy that Monjeza and Aunt Tiwo, much as they did not hack anyone with a panga, they committed an offence by butchering the norms, cultures, the psyche and way of living of Malawian society. This line of thinking is one which Western people may find it hard to appreciate.

Once again, fascinating. What we see considered here is a conflict of worldview between the donors of the West and the people that are receiving the donations. According the Nyirenda, the open gay engagement that Chimbalanga and Monjeza used to celebrate their love for each other is an open defiance of the society that they live in and is, as a result, harmed the grander society. Interesting, as this same idea has been very strongly combated in the United States, where marriage equality still does not exist; what is argued south of the border is that gay marriage does not actually affect anybody outside of the couple. Nyirenda is attempting to argue otherwise as a cultural feature – though he provides no evidence, it is quite interesting.


I don’t want to paint all Africans, or all Malawians for that matter, with the same brush. There is a growing support, including some Anglican Clergy, that is pushing for greater levels of equality for homosexuals, starting by refusing to berate them as a people group in church.

Now here is the challenge for me as an individual that tries to have a more globalized perspective on the state of affairs, and attempts to imagine how powerlessness and powerfulness affect the ways in which individuals and states relate to each other. Here we’ve a situation in which the threat of removing International Aid has been applied to an issue that I find of great import – the propagation and development of international human rights.

And my response is this: What an easy way out.

In reality, international pressure very rarely alters how people view minorities. And it isn’t wrong for Vales to recognize that international pressures are likely being placed on Malawi because of their relative insignificance as an international power: similar international attacks are very rarely placed on China, Iran, or Saudi Arabia as they attack homosexual communities with equal and even greater vigor. Each of these nations is an economic and resource-rich powerhouse, capable of placing equal pressure on us as we can on them – and, it would seem, the individual human rights of homosexuals in Saudi Arabia are considerably less important than the West’s need to fill their car’s gas tanks.

And, in reality, Malawi does have the right to create its own legislation decreed by the ideals of Democracy and Self-Governance. Though both of these principles are somewhat fractured in modern international politics, it is not particularly naïve of the people of Malawi to want to maintain this ideal when they feel their rights for self-governance are being infringed upon. It is even a classic case.

In considering both of these realities, the only truly effective change can only come from within the state of Malawi – where the people of Malawi no longer feel as though the laws of the government reflect the realities of their life.

As an internationalist, even as a gay internationalist, I would find that the linking of foreign aid to gay rights is absurd, just as linking foreign aid to the refusal to sponsor abortion rights is absurd (thank you, Stephen Harper). In reality, foreign aid is about helping individuals and states create infrastructure and better the living standards of people around the world – providing necessary goods and services to people that otherwise wouldn’t have them. They are the closest thing that exist to international Equalization Payments and essentially a good thing in producing a more economically equal planet. Much as I like to think that my country has the right to impose their ideals (ideals I find generally much more agreeable than those found around the world) on nations when they are giving away my tax money, I would rather they put efforts into educating the population and providing the roots for the grass of change to grow out of. The more homegrown the legislation the more likely it is to last and change the society that it is meant to regulate. This is a good thing.

And, thanks to the efforts of Monjeza and Chimbalanga, some of these changes are starting to take place. A historic debate is starting in Malawi that may change the course of homosexual issues in Malawi and that region of Africa for the better. It seems that Harvey Milk may be living in Africa these days…


Anyways, I have to go out – Grasslands National Park was just designated as a Dark Sky Preserve and so we’ve got some programs coming up where we will be guiding visitors through constellations. Which means I have to know what they are and know how to operate a telescope. Which also means that I have the coolest job in the world – because the program also includes telling stories from many international cultures about the various constellations. This Wednesday I will be learning about some Cree stories from a Cree story-teller as he presents them to a class. I cannot wait.

Val Marie is the coolest place ever.

Home.

So I just spent 20 minutes doing the dishes in my new home. I am currently living in the village of Val Marie, Saskatchewan; my new home is shared with 3 other twenty-somethings working in Grasslands National Park. Which is also where I am working. Which means that, in this paragraph, I have essentially shared the completion of two of my life goals. One, to work in a Canadian National Park, has been a lifelong dream that I recall setting for myself at a very young age. The second, to live in smalltown Saskatchewan and experience the Saskatchewan cultural environment in a completely new kind of way, has been a recent goal of mine. Sounds like a good summer, no?

The only thing that I miss is being gay. Having those rare opportunities to talk about my sexuality – talk about my arousal. Share my interests and desires with people. To laugh rather than to hide.

It makes me wish that I didn’t love every moment of what I am doing out here – how I could imagine a small community like this being so absolutely fantastic if I felt that there was a potential for one to be gay in it.

But there isn’t. Not only do I not recognize any other gay people in town, but even if I had there would be no opportunity to really discuss it. Life is an act here – one misstep and you fall off the stage. That said, falling off of a stage is a pretty fun event… and so I am resolving not to hide my sexuality here, but just recognize that it isn’t a topic of discussion or lifestyle meant to be on display.

Seriously, I feel like I have been transported to October of 2009.

But, just as I am being transported back into the closet, let us celebrate those events that are far more significant for the international gay community and socio-political change taking place. In one part of the world, two men have been released from their cages and in another dozens of men walked down a street declaring their pride for the first time. Once again, my own life is humbled by the events that are taking place around the world.

Regarding the latter – dozens of men walking a street and publicly declaring their pride for the first time. For the past couple months I have been considering moving to Russia to learn the language and do some historical studies into the Soviet Era. Somehow I managed to meet somebody online (I always feel foolish saying this, for some reason) who is from a region in Russia. He is gay, and so he has told me a great deal about the challenges of being gay in Russia. So, as a result of my academic interest and my personal connection with the Russian gay environment, I have been paying some degree of attention to what little news I can find from the country. And this time, it is rather good news.

For the first time ever, gay Russian men were able to avoid a police ban on their Pride Parade and secretly walk down a street for ten minutes before dispersing to avoid police raids on the event. The event took place in Moscow, the capital of the country, and the centre of the strongest pressures for and against the advancement of equality between the various sexualities of the Russian people. This pride, though short lived, is reason for celebration. Click here to see some images and read some testimonials from those involved in this event, and here to read an article written about this exciting event by the news agency Reuters.

Regarding the former – two men engaged to each other in Malawi who had been arrested in the December of 2009; Steven Monjeza, 26, and Tiwonge Chimbalanga, 20, were arrested after celebrating their engagement ahead of a wedding planned for 2010. In Mid-May they were convicted of gross indecency and unnatural acts because of their attraction to and love for each other.

On May 31st a presidential pardon was granted largely as a result of international political pressures from governments of the west, including governments who have not thus far granted gay men and women the right to marry. It is no surprise to many that Africa remains one of the regions of the world where homophobia is found at its most extremes – for months now an international campaign has been fighting homophobic legislation in Uganda that would make it illegal both to perform homosexual acts as well as to fail to report homosexuality in friends, family and neighbours. It is exciting to see that international pressure is working in defending the rights of the people, even if many of these successes are accomplished as a result of power politics – where the powers of aid can be suspended if African governments refuse to cooperate with the wealthy nations of the West.

It must be noted that neither of these exciting events have been completely free of challenges, and, despite their successes, both also manage to highlight the challenges faced internationally by the homosexual community. For example, in Malawi, Patricia Kaliati, Malawi's Minister of Gender and Children, said Monjeza and Chimbalanga's release did not mean they could continue their relationship – and indeed, they have been forewarned that if they were to continue their “activities” it is possible that they will be rearrested and reconvicted, with the pardon no longer being an effective means of protection. Indeed, the President Mutharika of Malawi, who said he was pardoning the pair on humanitarian grounds, also mentioned that, "In all aspects of reasoning, in all aspects of human understanding, these two gay boys were wrong - totally wrong.”

In Moscow, the pride parade that took place at the end of May was successful only because it took place. It was not sanctioned by the government – in fact, the Mayor of Moscow, knowing that it was taking place, sent policemen out in advance to ensure that it didn’t take place. It was considered an illegal protest by all levels of government – a sentiment shared by an estimated 80% of the Russian people. It was only by misleading Moscow’s police with misinformation as to the location and providing some diversions that the group was able to converge, collect the media for coverage, march for 10 minutes with their home-made banner, and then disperse into the homes and businesses that dotted their route before the police arrived to violently break up the peaceful protest. The organizers have noted that it is unlikely that such tactics will work in the coming years, and that their only hope for continuing successful protests lies in the European Human Rights courts and their interest in supporting Gay Russians.

Russia, it seems, is lost in the 70s – in the pre-Stonewall era. Malawi stuck in an era long even longer forgotten.

These events also serve to act as a foil to the Canadian environment. In the town that I now live in, a village of a mere 110 people, it does not surprise me that I will find it difficult being completely comfortable in my sexuality. And yet, if I were to get engaged my greatest concern would be social chastisement – not imprisonment. Moreover, in mid-June, I can walk the streets of Regina proud of who I am, in a parade recognized by the government and sponsored by some of my elected ministers. Walking back into the closet, as painful and challenging as it may be, does not deny me the rights that I have become accustomed to feeling – rights that don’t exist elsewhere.

Once again, I am humbled and grateful for my Canadian life.

Life on Trial

Everything about today means that I don't have time to write a blog entry. There are far too many things that must be accomplished so that the tour for this music group I have been managing for the past week can start and end without a hitch (that can happen, right?).

But today is an interesting and important day for Saskatchewan's understanding of human rights.

Today, the court battle over the rights of gay men to marry superceding the rights of civil marriage commissioners to deny their public services because of their religious beliefs begins.

Read about it here, from the CBC news.

I'm going to do my best to watch this case unfold. It will be quite interesting - and I hope the result is something that everybody can appreciate.

The events that change our world are often subtle. Revolutions regularly start as an idea that is put into practice on a small scale, then flourishes, and suddenly consumes society. It is shocking when it happens, and nobody really understands what started it until they look back and consider the moment of human's ingenuity - when it caught on, and how it refused to fail.

As a people, we like to imagine that the world we live in is planned and controlled. My worldview, and the way that I have been trained to study history demands this. Things happen for a reason, that intent happens, and leads to other events. Everything is logical - can be traced.

We also like to focus on what many historians call "Pop History". The events that entered the media but really did very little to affect reality.

One such event happened today, in Vancouver, when a man was sentenced to a year in prison for his singular attack on a man walking down the street holding his boyfriend's hand. As a gay community, we should celebrate this moment for the use of the Charter of Rights and Freedoms in penalizing a hate crime - a rare event for us. In the same city though, Lisa Reimer, a Lesbian teacher working for a Catholic School was put on teacher suspension after parents found out about her orientation - the school board, knowing they can't fire her because of the Charter of Rights and Freedom, have put her on marking duty. Its a kick in the teeth.

We'll focus on these events, with really considering the social revolutions that are defining us a people. I don't mean to be offensive to Lisa or Jordan (the man attacked), but in the long run, the crimes committed against them should not be over-sensationalized by the press as the canvas of our society runs with paint of other, more distressing realities.

A film for you to watch - containing a message that we are all familiar with, but need to be continually reminded of.



How do I become hydro-carbon neutral? Is it event possible? How do I change my daily living so that I impact the natural and human environments not just less, but positively? When can my understanding of humanity extend beyond my community of friends and family, my national concerns, my international concerns, and become holistic? Holistic in the sense of definition rather than in the sense of the buzz-word.

A website I recommend to you.

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I have a new goal. Everytime I go and purchase foods of any sort, I will donate food to the food bank. I'm going to try and start with one item per purchase - eventually I want to move towards a tithing machine. To humble me to the needs of the people around me that I don't know, that I choose not to see, and not to interact with. Who have an equal right to food as I do.

Change we can believe in.

You may not have noticed it happen.

There was a breeze though. A change in the direction of the wind. A faint but noticeable fragrance of lilacs. Something happened.

It was yesterday. I was outside enjoying the spring sun. And then it happened.


Americans found themselves covered by health insurance. All of them. When a new bill, complicated and completely new for an America that is increasingly wary of government involvement in their life, was voted on and passed the American houses of representation.

This is the kind of moment that, had it taken place two thousand years ago, would be written about by scholars as though some cloth separating the people from the experience of rightness was ripped in half.

Something happened. And for millions of Americans, life will never be the same.

Rumours and a Push

Last summer, just as my homosexuality was exploding onto my life, I told a close friend of mine that people who come out of the closet are usually ready for a relationship. They want to get into one and start experiencing their sexuality.

I told him I was nowhere near that stage.

Now I'm getting closer. I'm almost to the point where I am not only longing for some kind of relationship that has the potential to develop into a lifelong intimacy, but also getting pretty damn close to making my existence as a man that is attracted to men public knowledge.



Oddly enough, this has something to do with church. This past week I received a letter from my church asking me whether or not I was intending on maintaining my membership with them. Apparently they have noticed that I haven't been attending for the past 8 months. Some of them are surely concerned. Recently one of my prize members of the youth group that I worked with for four years contacted my ex-girlfriend and asked how I was doing. He said that he had heard "rumours" about me.

"Rumours"?

Apparently about me 'falling away from God'. Which I won't deny. This has happened. But not in the past 8 months. More like a general trend of the past 4 years.

My former church kind of missed the boat on that one.




I have a friend that I have blogged about in the past. He is the one who directed me towards ex-gay ministries after I half-intentionally, half-instinctively told him I was gay and then listened to him tell me what it meant to be gay and how he didn't want me to pidgeon-hole myself into being gay. Do I still sound angry? I hope not. This man, a friend of mine for many years and one of the few people that I love and respect without ceasing, has since recanted.

Now he pushes me to be myself, and let everybody know. And be so comfortable with myself that rebukes and concerns that I may sense or hear from any church that I attend bounce off of my like bullets off of a super-hero. And that I push the world to a greater understanding of sexuality, gender identities, and what it means to be Neal Adolph to a world that isn't even remotely aware. He wants me walking down the aisle of my church, holding the hand of my boyfriend, and sitting down comfortably - knowing that I am being silently rebuked, but being comfortable in my relationship and my spirituality all the same (admittedly the former seems more likely than the latter...).

That is a big task. But it has been done before. And it will be done again - this time spear-headed by me, bolstered by my friends and family, and push forward by this sense that I am ok. I'm not great, but I am by no means sleeping with the devil any more frequently than other people (ok, this may be a lie).




I went out this weekend to a music festival in town, and spent quite a bit of time mingling with the various conductors and choirs. One of the conductors, whom I've known and admired for years, is apparently (I had no idea) undeniably gay. And currently seeing 5 people. When somebody asked him if he would ever consider settling down, he said yes - if he found the right person, and if that person believed in God.

I'm starting to get that God isn't exclusive to heterosexuality.

I had intended this post to be about God, and starting to renegotiate what it means to be gay and christian (a response to a close friend of mine who challenged me last week), but far too many ridiculous events are taking place in the world. And so, once again, I am directed towards the topic of homosexuality.

For those of you who are unaware, I am trained as a teacher. For those of you who are unaware, my experience in high school was engulfed in bouts of depression largely circling around my burgeoning sexuality and concerns of coming out to a community that I was certain would not accept me. Once again, for those of you who are unaware, I largely entered the field of education convinced that I would provide some measure of assurance that homosexuality among the student body would become more and more accepted.


I was excited to hear that many schools in my city now have a Gay-Straight Alliance student body. I don't know if that would have resulted in me coming out in high school, but the idea of having a community in which I could find support would have really helped out a lot.

These kind of student groups do not exist in Mississippi. At a county high school in this southern American state, an 18-year old Lesbian student regularly receives education on what it means to live in society. Unfortunately, the education she is getting, both formal and informal, reminds me of why I chose not to come out to very many people in high school.

Constance McMillen was hoping to bring her partner to her high school prom. And wear a tuxedo. Her county school board, rather than saying no to her specifically (well, they already had told her no, but she persisted), decided to cancel the event entirely. Not only adversely affecting her but also her entire senior class. They've released a statement, quoting "distractions to the educational process caused by recent events" as the cause of the cancellation.

I'm sure the true cause has not been lost on the student body. Unfortunately, their selfish response has turned into bullying. Constance walks through the halls of her high school, now not only sensing that she is alone because of her sexuality, but also hearing comments such as "thanks for ruining my senior year!".

Constance is appropriately suing the school board.

This reminds me of an event in Canada in 2002. I was in Grade 9 at the time, and in a 15-passenger van with my high school Outdoor's Club. We were on our way to Montana's Abskaroka Wilderness Area, and listening to the CBC radio because we could not get consistent reception from any other radio station. During a news brief, we were told that a young gay man graduating in Ontario had successfully sued his Catholic school board for not allowing him to bring his partner to the prom.

This prompted a short conversation in the van, of general support for the development. I was scared that merely participating in the conversation would out me. It didn't - I shared with those involved in the conversation my happiness for that young man.

He decided not to attend his prom anyways - probably a wise choice given the challenges that this young man would've faced that night. But I, sitting in a van in rural Alberta, was proud of him.

I wish Constance McMillen all the luck in the world.

Read the CBC briefing of Constance McMillen's struggles here.

The Rainbow Connection

Last Saturday night, a few things happened that I didn't expect. I found myself in the local University bar, sitting at a table with my Lesbian friends and a few strangers, watching men and women dance in costume that is usually reserved for people of the opposite "gender". And I was shocked.

This experience was entirely cultural. I started out the evening, upon realizing how much culture surrounded me, by asking a friend if it was wrong to look at the event through the lens of an anthropologist. She laughed - and reminded me that gay culture has been around for a long time - that modern gay culture has been percolating for more than 60 years, and that I had a lot to get caught up on.

A couple notes: the environment was very supportive of the dancers. There is an established system of tipping the dancers. Dancing with your partner on the side while others dance is totally agreeable. Large paintings of penises and vaginas with holes in them are perfect places to take photos. Women are welcome to use the men's washroom - I'm not entirely certain if this is a two-way street. Comeradery is important - relationships are important; friends who have been friends for years sit together and have fun together. It isn't wrong to look around and see if anybody attractive is sitting at the table next to you, and then to strike up a conversation with them. Fun is the raison d'etre - make sure that you have it; and hold back, but don't be afraid to let loose a bit. Watching a man, dressed as Octomom, give birth to the forgotten ninth baby while on stage, lip-synching to a song about the saintly virtues of motherhood will never, ever get old. Laughter was the soup du jour.

It was refreshing to walk into a public environment where I wasn't in a minority; where humour about being gay never felt like a slander or off-handedly offensive slight. Where there were numerous straight people, with their partners, holding hands and enjoying themselves - sitting across the table from numerous gay people, with their partners, holding hands and enjoying themselves. Where the sexualities seemed to naturally blend in a communal revelry of the intricacies of humanity and sex. The room and its activities did not feel obscene or inappropriate; it was instead a celebration of people getting to be who it is that they naturally are.

I felt safe the entire time.

There were moments where it felt like a form of utopia. It was until I was covered in sweat, which was mostly my own, that I realized I was too tired to allow the night to continue.

Also, discovered that the most attractive man at the university is gay. I was pleased. Even more pleased to find he was in a steady relationship - because that was what the night seemed to be about: community, relationship, love, support. Sex, despite the dominance of sexuality as the night's theme, only popped up on the dance floor.




By the way, I danced with a boy. It was a nice experience. Entirely new. Looking forward to doing it again.

Also, life lesson from Saturday night - kissing women really isn't as bad as I have always made it out to be. Their lips are much, much softer.

The Olympic Dream

These past two weeks I have spent a great deal of time watching sport. The Winter Olympics somehow draw my attention away from everything else going on in my life and focus me on the accomplishments of athletes that I don't know at all. But the past couple days of the Olympics, despite Canada's incredible successes, have been quite frustrating for me. Because of women.

I often wonder if women are fully aware of how frequently they are objectified by men. Particularly those women who are on television - the ones that, somehow, we are convinced don't really exist. We (well, many men) talk about them as they perform their greatest skills for us; we say things that we would never say to their face, and somehow think this is ok.

But, this post is hardly about the Olympics, hardly about women, and certainly not about television. Like all other things on this blog, this post is about me - and how I have had to traverse the aisles of heterosexuality over the past couple weeks listening to my friends and my brother rave about the hot Canadian women's curling team, the ugly Finnish hockey team, and the incredible body of Lindsey Vonn.

There are times that it seems like a dick-waving competition to me at times. Like, "look at me, I still have a sex-drive, and so do you, and are drive is similar, so lets talk about it really loudly."

The story I am about to share with you is not a dick-waving competition so much as it was a subtle moment in a hetero-sexist environment that always reminds me that I am not like the rest of this planet.

Last night I was at a local bar with two close friends of mine. One is aware of my sexuality, the other isn't. While discussing the Olympics (it is the topic that has been on everybody's hearts and mind for the past two weeks), they manage to get onto the topic of Canada's two-woman bobsledding team. They managed to comment on their physical appearance, and both admitted (with more courtesy than most I have heard) that they were attracted to these athletes. And they discussed this for quite some time.

And I was quiet - for the 5 minute conversation on how attractive women in tight spandex suits are.

The entire time wishing I could chime in on what I thought about the two-man bobsledders. But I didn't, for fear of how the people sitting around us would act. And because I am very capable, and well-trained, in the game of hiding my sexuality from the world as the world discusses theirs. Because I have never really been able to talk about sexual desire with men before. And because the pub that we were in is, like most pubs, equally male-centric as it is beer-centric. Because I don't mind people talking about their sexual attractions, I just wish I could do so. Fearlessly.


After, while talking with my friend that knows that I am gay, I shared my momentary discomfort from when the two of them had discussed the physical assets of some women on some athletic team participating in some kind of big-deal international competition of sports. I told him I felt trapped in silence - as though I was choking on words that I wanted to share but couldn't.

And I don't think he understood. Because he responded by saying that he wanted to have me jump into these conversations... so that he could make-fun of me for my input. Offer some kind of humorous response.

I appreciate that friends make fun of each other - but all I could think was, 'but, you didn't make fun of our friend for his moment of sexual vanity...'


Like I said, a story of just one of those many reminders I experience everyday telling me that I am of the "other". I am not of this world.

Harper you dirtbag!

I'm trying to think of all the traits I like in my politicians - the aspects of individuals that make me want to vote for them.

First is a strong moral compass that is centered around attempts to view the world objectively. In doing so, a great politician would pursue the ideals of equality, liberty, and the creation of a safe society. Also, they would focus on improving the lives of everybody in its sovereign realm, with an interest in social programming that benefits those parts of society that struggle to experience the same levels of equality and economic opportunity as are viewed as desirable. They would be interested in the environment - whole-heartedly interested. They would strive to make international cooperation a possibility rather than just a pipe-dream.

A great politician would have a soul. A wholly human soul.

And this great politician does not exist. I know that.

I also know that the current Canadian political culture does not predispose it to these kind of peoples. I also am beginning to see why the Canadian system of government is more broken than I believed it to be only days ago.

Canadian senate appointments have been contentious since the sixties, but gained prominence in 2004 and 2005 as Harper, then the Primeministerial candidate of the Conservative Party, promised to legislate senate elections for the federal government's Upper House. At the time, I felt the extension of more democratic rights to the people of Canada was quite dangerous - and, in reality, I still do. I don't know if it is valuable to have an upper house whose senators are elected in by the same people that are electing the government into power - I like to think that those appointed by the previous government can act as a measure of accountability on the current government.

But then I saw this today, in the news.

Bob Runciman, one of Harper's most recent appointments to the senate (yes, the same Harper that was elected to office on a promise of changing Senate appointment laws), is not a good politician. The Liberal Party of Canada has explained why by using Runciman's own words.

“We believe all references to sexual orientation should be removed from the Human Rights Code.” - 1994

“Homosexuality is essentially anti-family. It encourages promiscuous sexuality, a self-centred morality and socially irresponsible behaviour that exacts huge costs from society. The law has every right to discourage people from entering into paths that are demonstratively destructive, physically and psychologically, first to the homosexuals and to society itself.” - 1986


This man worked three times to remove homosexuality from the Ontario Human Rights Code during his time as an MLA for Leeds, Ontario. I'm glad he is now a senator in Canada's government.

But this does not surprise me. If we look at who else has been employed by Harper's government and certainly not reprimanded for his beliefs (ok, admittedly, this man was voted in again after that video was leaked - so he is employed by the people... though there are few people that would argue that Conservative's MPs are actually following the interests of the people...).

It is good to know who Harper puts into the government that has been granted, through history, sovereign rule over me. Who knows, maybe the next time Harper attempts to remove my right to marriage he'll have enough conservative MPs and Senators to get it through the house...

A joyous occasion...

Gay rights in Canada are relatively secure at this point. Reasons to cheer are abound when you look at the last 10 years of Canadian homosexual history. We've earned the right to marry, earned the right to adopt. We can start families, grow old together, visit each other in hospitals. Life seems pretty good.

But, every now and then, an event takes place puts any efforts that have been made towards greater equality in jeopardy. In this case, this situation is taking place at home - in Saskatchewan. A trial, in Regina. Where I was born, and have lived my entire life.

Some background information.

In 2008, a local civil marriage commissioner denied a gay couple his services as a individual imbued by the state to perform and legalize civil marriages. His denial was based on his personal moral compass that viewed homosexual marriage as wrong, referencing his religious convictions. He was fined by the Saskatchewan Human Rights Tribunal $2500.00 for denying the rights of individuals.

Which sort of brings us to today...

Unfortunately, this isn't half as simple I would like it to be. As an employee of the state, I believe that it is his responsibility to uphold and recognize all the laws of the state, including those with which he disagrees. As such, his denial of marriage to a gay couple because he disagreed with their sexuality is a denial of rights guaranteed under the Charter of Rights and Freedoms and established by provincial law in 2004 and federal law in 2005. In doing so, he contradicted the proposed ideals of the state, and should be stripped of his right to perform civil marriages ever again.

But, there are other concerns here. Not just for the rights of the gay couple, but also for the rights of the individual (in this case, the Civil Marriage Councillor). His rights, as a follower of a religion, are also guaranteed by the Charter of Rights and Freedoms. The rights of other civil employees with similar ideals as his (somehow, only recognized by the state if they are associated with a "religion") are also included in this.

And so, in the upcoming hearings, many different lobby groups have petitioned for involvement - including individuals, provincial organizations, nation-wide organizations, and local religious groups. The provincial government, in attempting to seem relatively unbiased, has appointed lawyers to argue, on behalf of the crown, for both sides of the legal debate.

As an individual, this case concerns me. But I recognize that the same laws that grant me freedom to marry grant civil commissioners the right to deny marriage if they find a marriage to be contrary to their religious beliefs. I do hope that the state finds that marriage commissioners are to shed their personal beliefs when performing their duties as an employee of the state. But I have to, somehow, entertain the reality that there is a justifiable (and complicated) legal argument that suggests that the rights of the individual truncate those of another.

This is complicated. Just as the case currently taking place in California, it will establish an important precedent. And I will watch, and hopefully attend, this case with eyes trained for sympathy, compassion, understanding, and the careful analysis necessary for legal process.

_________________________________________________

Some Articles

The Leader-Post article previewing the upcoming case.

A second article from the Leader-Post, detailing a bit more about the case.

Also, check out this blog, Slap Upside the Head, for a pointed and humerous understanding of how this entire case has unfolded. Every post references its supporting news articles.

An American article from Slate Magazine about the GOP's use of the "Gay Panic Button."

Another from Slate Magazine about the effects of gay marriage in Scandinavia.

Axis and Allies

I've often mentioned on this blog and to many of my friends the important role that Youtube has had in normalizing my homosexuality as an aspect of my social person. If I haven't done that sufficiently, then kick me in the face when you see me next.

I recently discovered this video on Youtube.



This past week has been a bit rough for me. I came out to a friend of mine in a moment of extreme frustration and weakness, and with only partial intentions of doing it. His reaction has been understanding, but also reluctant. He very strongly believes that homosexuality is a sin. He has directed me to ex-gay ministries. And he does this all in love, not realizing the torment that it has caused me.

My heart has crumbled this week.

I sent him an e-mail yesterday explaining the challenges associated with being gay - how painful it is to grow up alone, isolated, and afraid that something you do is going to out you and put you in danger. I mentioned that we, as homosexuals and other sexual minorities, are the invisible minority; we have some control over when the world more completely discovers our identity.

But let me tell you a bit of a story from yesterday. While I was at work, I noticed that one of my friends was very hurt. She and I are usually rather playful - she is adorable, and fun, and when the world watches her smile it notices what happiness looks like. That being said, when she was hurt, angry and frustrated last night, you can see the air blacken around her. Something was troubling her.

I asked her if she would be willing to cover my lunch break, because she is one of only a few people who has been trained in my position who also works during the evenings and weekends with me. In this regard, she is almost always reliable - she doesn't enjoy what I do, but she is willing to go in there on my behalf. Last night, noticing she was frustrated, I was not particularly surprised when she said no.

But eventually she came up to cover my break, with one of my supervisors (who would have been required to cover my break if she didn't). And she seemed even more frustrated. I asked my supervisor if she could cover for 15 minutes while I went up to the staff lounge with my friend and we discussed what was affecting her so much. She was willing to do that.

My friend and I went to the secondary staff lounge which never has anybody in it, and we sat down, and she told me a story. She says that she consistently felt as though some of the members of the staff were harassing her for not doing her job even when she was fulfilling her duties better than other members of the staff. While other cashiers were welcome to wait for customers at the till, she was always told to redline (meaning, wait for customers) by our supervisor. She was feeling as though she was being watched by the supervisor for when she made a mistake, or when she called in because of illness (which is very, very rare). She felt as though her relationship with her boyfriend was constantly under the scrutiny of the other staff members - as though they wanted to be involved in discussing something she feels is better kept private.

I forgot to mention that this friend of mine is a Pakistani immigrant. And, I 've forgotten to mention that she feels her skin colour is the reason that she is being targetted instead of the other, white members of the staff. That her perception of racism against her was causing her emotional heartbreak and stress, and making her want to move to a new job.

I sat there with her, as her eyes dug into my soul with such extreme sadness, and we both shed a couple tears. I have never felt emotion as powerful as hers.

And it made me much more aware of just how much pain is caused by hatred, misunderstanding, and the perception of both by those who have no option to escape it. Whose skin colour, gender, or appearance, rather than sexuality, sets them apart from normalcy. Who feel helpless, alone, trapped, and powerless as a result of things they cannot help - experiences that I am familiar with.

My heart has crumbled this week.

And then I found this video, and realized that my responsibility as somebody familiar with some of these emotions is not merely to support her by pronouncing to her my acceptance and love for who she is, but also to be her ally. To pronounce my love and acceptance of everything that she is with the rest of the world - so that the world is aware of how unacceptable it is for me, for my co-worker, and for everybody.

If you've the time, I'd recommend this article. It singularly made me much more aware of my whiteness years ago... It is called "White Privelege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack" by Peggy McIntosh. It gets my most high recommendation.

To Russia With Love!

Today, I discovered women.

Two of them actually. Now, please don't claim that I am over-compensating for years of lost opportunity - this isn't a Californian trial or something, where you get to question my psychosexual development as an individual. Instead, listen to the rest.

The two women I discovered were Russian. And they are acting as lovers whose rights have not only been denied by their own government, but, when they thought they had found a loophole, they found their rights even more disposable.

Two women, Irina Fyet and Irina Shepitko, applied for marriage certification in Moscow as a means of honouring their love. They were rejected; apparently homosexual rights in the planet's largest country are not to be recognized. So, the women came to the planet's second largest country - Canada - to be legally married, where marriage between members of the same sex has been legal since 2005. Thus, in October 2009, these women were married.



Today it was announced that, in the ensuing trial to determine whether the marriage would be recognized. The preciding judge stated that he would "have to uphold the decision made by the registry office in May. Foreign marriages accepted in Russia must involve a couple of opposite sex."

Fyet responded; "We were born here, this is our country, we want to be married in our homeland, Russia."

Russia's homosexual community, though not actively politicalled repressed, is forced underground as a result of widespread social codemnation. Homosexuality was not decriminalized from the Soviet Era until 1993 (two years after the communist state collapsed), but it would seem as though generations of persecuting homosexuality has left a considerable scar in Russia's social acceptance of homosexuals. In 2005, Russia's first gay rights parade in Moscow was broken up by neo-fascists, police, and Orthodox Christians.

It order to achieve any degree of state recognition for their love (and the rights that would result), Fyet and Shepitko will have to appeal to the European Court of Human Rights, who have not thus far shown their favour or disfavour with the extension of homosexual rights. A final ruling can take as long as 5 years.

Just for love to be recognized. 5 years.

__________________________________________________

Love is an immensely rare moment. Not everybody gets to experience it. It is a shame upon humanity that, when it is felt, it is destroyed by our neighbours through the impersonal and systematic powers of the law.

This case reminds me of Rita Mae Brown.

"No government has the right to tell its citizens when or whom to love. The only queer people are those who don't love anybody."

__________________________________________________

I've asked this of some friends over the past week that I have met through Gay Family Values; does political persecution have degrees? And if so, at which point is one allowed to apply for political refugee status from one country to the next? Does it have to be illegal to be gay (as in almost every African state)? Or illegal to live in some neighbourhoods (as in many Caribbean nations)? Or illegal to marry? Canada could accept all of these persons as refugees because they are not permitted to live a life equal to that experienced by their neighbours - it is a reality that hurts everyday for homosexuals around the world. Does Canada have a responsibility to act as a political (if not a social) sanctuary from all forms of persecution?


Please note: I'd really be interested in discussing the philosophy of human rights; whenever the idea of "rights" comes up, I'm often conflicted by this sensativity towards a politically determined social reality (Rousseau, you genius, you were right again!). But that can't happen right now.

Harper you dirtbag.

I have to work very hard, given my political distaste for almost all things conservative, to consider most criticisms of political structures in light not only of the current political discourse but also the consequences that they could have for the future. If I were to pretend that any of the governments that have sovereign control over me or that land that I inhabit were ones that I supported, would I still agree that the changes were beneficial to Canada's governance.

Earlier this week, I read this article from the Globe and Mail. "Give the house the authority" by Andrew Heard argues that the representatives of Canada's people in the House of Commons should have to pass a motion allowing for any attempt to pro-rogue parliament. I've thought about this, and it does have some limitations...

In reality, this would only be an effective means of control in a minority government, because the opposition parties are less likely to vote in favour of pro-roguing the parliament than the government. It may work in a majority provided that there was a considerable division within the party at the time. Unfortunately, it could also be used as a bartering tool in Canada's governance; where, members of the opposition will agree to vote for pro-roguing provided some of their localized concerns are dealt with once the government resumes (granted, this is more prominent in American government than Canadian, but should be considered as a consequence).

Heard's proposal does allow for more involvement in any decision to have the parliament pro-rogued - which isn't necessarily bad because it decentralizes the power away from the governor-general of Canada and the Primeminister (where it essentially rests - read the article to understand how this power has become a de facto power of the prime minister). By decentralizing the power, a proper check can be placed on the prime minister, ensuring that any attempt to pro-rogue government is actually for the benefit of the people of Canada rather than just the governing party...

Now, considering how frequently parliament has been pro-rogued in Canada throughout its history, I'm not sure how frequently this legislation would have to be enacted... but, as the current political party has used its de facto power to pro-rogue parliament as a means of maintaining political power, it would perhaps be an appropriate method of fixing a problem. For a government to pro-rogue parliament twice in 12 months is pretty much disgusting... And, though the liberal political media would like you to think that the Canadian people are not responding (and they aren't responding through overt popular discussion so much as general political fatigue... though there is a facebook group with nearly 200,000 members that has banded against the pro-roguing of the current session), Canadians do find it troubling that the government of Canada, including its opposition parties, have not been allowed to work in the government's transparent body (the House of Commons) as a result (read the initial article - it provides some polling data, which is of debatable validity, but still reveals something). What is taking place, provided members of the government is working right now, is back-room discussion about what direction the country should go in. And a lot of party politicking. The country has been sacrificed at the altar in the interest of the Conservative Party of Canada rather than the interests of the electorate...


Considering the contemporary political landscape of Canada....

Something that the Liberal Party should consider in any upcoming election is placing a well-considered policy of this sort into their campaign - it not only acts as an attack on Harper's use of current proroguing legislation, but provides an increasingly democratic means of affecting the country's governance (an angle that Harper has been able to exploit successfully thus far with the promise for fewer appointed Senate seats). Though this is not popular vote, it is a vote on a power that has been used and abused, without general Canadian support, by Stephen Harper, and could potentially be abused by subsequent Primeministers. Even Liberal ones. Even those representing the New Democrats, or the Greens. But we should get it done anyways....


Some other articles to consider, if you're interested in this.

"Halted in mid-debate" - The Economist
"Harper goes Pro-Rogue" - The Economist
"Proroguing PM takes hit in poll" - Chronicle Herald

And then, just because I really dislike Harper, I'm going to post this. A full text speech transcribed from Harper in 1997. Interesting.

They don't really care about us.

Have you ever been illegal, for merely being born?

Unfortunately this is a question that far too many people can answer positively, admitting that, at some point and in some cultural landscape, they have been illegal.

Jews are familiar with this - the Shoah is perhaps the greatest reminder to a broken and redemptive nation. African-Americans are reminded everyday that, at some point in relatively recent history, they were illegal. Muslims, Catholics, Protestants, and peoples from thousands of other faiths have been purged, burned, and forced from their homes merely for being born into their cultural landscape.

Homosexuals are still aware of this in many, many parts of the world. Unfortunately, the reality is that we are not alone.

But I am self-centered, so for a moment, lets pretend that Homosexuals are the only people who still experience hate.

During the second World War, many different groups were targeted by the Nazis and placed in various camps for work, or for extermination. The physically and mentally handicapped, Muslims, Jews, Africans, the Sinti, the Roma, communists, Catholics, political opposition, and Homosexuals were some of the more directly targeted groups, though this list is far from exhaustive.

By the hundreds of thousands these people were boarded onto cattle cars and carried to unfamiliar lands where they would perish; lose their souls, lose their hope. Become a number and not a name. A tool to build for their oppressors rather than a family member.

Each of these different groups of tools were given different symbols when they entered the camps so that they could be easily identified by the guards according to their crimes against the imperial state of Nazi Germany. The Jews were given the familiar star of David. Political prisoners wore upside-down red triangles. Homosexuals wore upside-down pink triangles.

There are many surviving stories about how, when used uniforms were given to new arrivals at various camps, people would avoid have the pink triangles. It was better to be mistaken for a Jew in one of the camps than to be a homosexual - treatment was no notably better, but the society that developed in the camps was not particularly endeared to homosexuals.

Unfortunately, this perception of homosexuals being the worst identifying factor transfered over the Allies; for this homosexuality may be unique, though I would accept some arguments that being a Jew was equally bad during the war in the Allied countries as it was to be a homosexual.

Here, is the story of one British War Hero - Alan Turing, and the discrimination he experienced in the years following the war because he was born Gay.

I don't think they used chemicals on Jews in Germany to turn them into Christians. I could be wrong though...


Thank God that I was born today rather than 50 years ago - that my fortune is to be a Canadian citizen rather than an American in 2009. Thank God that so much has happened in the last 50 years towards the freedoms of homosexuals in Canada; that I can get married, that I can adopt children, that I can enjoy job security.

That I can be relatively certain that I won't ever be given chemicals that will turn me into another gender or reverse my hormones.

Also, thankfully, governments are starting to realize their mistreatment of homosexuals in the past.

Thankfully progress happens over 50 years.

We did it!!

I don't understand people who have hope, or who don't see the world through the eyes of a cynic. It does not make sense to me that, when there is so much bad in the world, people can think positively. Even positively for change.

I went camping to Cypress Hills this past weekend with one of my closest friends. We discuss a lot of stuff. He vocalized this weekend that he decided, a long time ago, that he is incapable of providing wisdom in our relationship because he simply can't be aware of what it is like to be gay and the enormous challenges that it demands.

But he always manages to make me think - despite his apparent lack of wisdom.

We often have many topics to discuss. Homosexuality tends to be the commanding theme, but sometimes we discuss concerns about spirituality. This weekend we managed to discuss worship, and Hope. I actually managed to have a discussion about hope.

My friend, eternally wise and positive-thinking, asked me what provides me with hope in this world. The list was small, and focused on the enormously selfish reality that I am gay, but let me try and re-create it here.

- I was able to talk to him, a deeply spiritual and undeniably Christian person, with complete openness despite the fact that he knows of my sexuality. We could go camping together. He trusted me enough to stay in the same tent as me.
- I have many other friends that know I am gay. One had it confirmed through this blog. All but one have remained my friends, and the one who was lost remains an acquaintance.
- I can remember the specific date when Jean Chretien managed to have marriage redefined in Canada to include the union of same sex couples. I was in high school. And I celebrated very privately, and entirely internally. I am certain that I walked around for week with a smile.

Imagine that this part of the conversation took about five minutes and you would be correct. They were quickly segued into reasons to be filled with despair. For an hour and a half.

- I can also remember every moment in my life that I have been told that being gay is something that somebody doesn't admit. Once was in the back seat of my car, trying to tell my brother and father a joke where, because of somebody's dick size, they discover they are gay. They both told me that nobody would admit to be being gay.
- I can also remember the debates that took place when Chretien was putting forward his new law for marriage redefinition. People debating the morality of it. The morality of gay people, and their capacity to participate in a single relationship.
- I know that I have to tell a lot of people still. People that will end our relationship as a result. I can't even begin to presume how my grandma will react. My parents. One of my best friends, recently engaged and just finishing her work term in Calgary, who has often told me about how immoral homosexual people are.
- After I do come out, I will be removed from my church, and there will be suspicions about my relationships with some of the youth in the ministry. Because my conduct as a gay man is instantly more suspicious than my conduct as a straight man. Because we are less moral.
- I won't ever be able to participate in youth ministry again, something that I have a great passion for because of the relationships that develop. I want to go back to camp next year, despite my disbelief, because I have a vision for what that place can become. But I won't be allowed to.
- I can expect to have a harder time finding a job teaching than my straight counterpart. The entire time I will be teaching, I will have to be more aware of my conduct than straight teachers, because I will more easily accused.
....
....
....
This continued for 90 minutes.

In essence, my life from now on becomes a life of defensive strategies. Moreso than ever before. And I have to be more understanding of why I am "oppressed" than the "oppressor" is expected to understand me. I have to know why people will dislike me.


My friend, eternally wise and positive-thinking, at this point told me that he had no wisdom to offer.

And then, on the drive home yesterday, as the residue of this conversation crept in, my friend reminded me of the things that brought me Hope.

Essentially, there is so much in the world that sucks the life out of somebody. So much that can cause despair, and so few things that can lift us out of this despair. Particularly when we are lonely. But we should still remember those things, however few they are, that bring us hope.

And then I realized that I was happy. Happy with somebody who knew me as well, and better, than almost anybody else on this planet. This man knew me, and loved me as I was. I was not just enjoying myself. I was happy.

And if my friend, eternally wise and positive-thinking, can make me happy, maybe he understands hope a bit better than I do.

I'm looking at the man in the mirror.

Have you ever caught yourself in the act of oppression? I have several times in the past week.

One of the less mundane aspects of my job at Wal-Mart involves completing purchase orders for companies, charities, and the government. Today, at work, there were many purchase orders that I had to write up. One of the more recent ones involved two young women, one a mother, both First Nations. They were purchasing school supplies, with money from the Ministry of Social Services.

The first of the women had some money left over, so she ran off to collect some pens and use as much money as possible to fill out her purchase order. This took her about 10 minutes. And my line grew very quickly in this ten minutes to be approximately 10 people deep. My computer was hung up, waiting for her to come and complete the transaction.

And so I began sharing my frustration with my co-workers - "how long does it take to get pens when they are only twenty feet away?" Some of the customers heard me, including the second of the young First Nations women. She approached me, with her child, and said, "Don't talk about my friend like that."

Now, I'm a prideful prick. And when I am in a situation where I have the power, my prideful prickness pops up at an extreme.

So I said to my co-worker. "I think this woman is threatening me. I can't imagine why. Does she actually expect me to redeem her purchase order when she does that?"

In that instant, this woman was reminded of what it is like to be Indian in a world where white people have the money and power, and where men are not to be questioned by women. This woman was reminded that she was powerless. She was reminded that she was poor, and that she was accepting charity from somebody else (the government) in order to purchase something as simple and everyday as school supplies. This young woman, with child in hand, was reminded of her everyday existence, in the midst of a moment of excitement - the purchasing of school supplies.

And this was because of me.

The events that took place afterwards were of no. I was able to fulfill my duty, and feel charitable in doing it. She was able to fulfill her duty, and feel ashamed for being dependent. She was reminded, because of my body language, because of my privilege to have a job, and because of my willingness to "help" her, of how much more power I have than her.

Not that she needed reminding. Or that I needed reminding. We both know it, we just call this existence, "reality", and make it acceptable because it is "the way things are."

I have felt the scar of oppression - it is because of this scar that I am still in the closet and protecting myself from more direct attacks upon my identity. I rage about oppression - it discusses me when I can dissect interactions and recognize it. But I am an agent of it; I have been contracted out to oppress the poor, the women, the racialized, and the "other". I don't know it, but I am complicit in it.

My behaviour must change.

And everytime that I write about and discuss the oppression that I experience, I must be reminded that I am an oppressor. If my sympathies are limited to superficial ideals that don't affect my behaviour, or to the protection of homosexuals from social harassment, then I am not worthy of any protection or kindness myself.

Desmond Tutu says this: "A person is a person because he recognizes others as persons."