I Saw Some of Me in Them

I went to my first PRIDE event today. The weather was beautiful. The sun was shining bright. The temperature was comfortable. The location was nice. James and I were engaged in small talk on the way there. Nothing serious.

We topped the hill and headed to the parking lot and then I saw it first. James noticed after I mentioned it. There across the street from the event were standing about ten to fifteen protesters holding signs, and one had a microphone that was attached to a cheap karaoke machine. I couldn’t see the signs right away, but I was already certain what they said. And as we approached the parking lot entrance, which was right where the protesters were congregating, I could see the signs clearly. One had a drawing of a crucified Jesus. Another had flames on the top and the word “Hell” below them. That message was quite clear. I knew exactly what they were saying.

As we rolled in between them, I could hear the preacher preaching. He didn’t sound angry or aggressive. He was doing the normal “come to Jesus and he will save you from your sins” message. No one was being physical that I could tell. Still, a feeling of dread and anxiety rose up within me. I swallowed it down as we parked.

James looked at me. I looked at him. I was nervous. I’d never been to a PRIDE event, and I was apprehensive to say the least. As a man who hid his sexuality for forty years, I wasn’t ready to put myself out there immediately after I came out. There was a long passage of time before I could even talk about it to strangers.

I think you would appreciate this story better if I gave you just a little bit of my history. I grew up in a Pentecostal home from the age of twelve, up until I left the faith at the age of around thirty-seven. Then, I came out at the age of forty in 2016. During my childhood, teenage years, and young adulthood, I was tremendously tormented by my sexuality. I knew I was gay from a very early age, and I did everything I could to hide it, change it, be delivered from it. Nothing worked, obviously. This is not something you can pray away. It’s not something you can just change your mind from. It’s more determined by something far deeper. That truth is what I was terrified about for so many years.

Now that you understand some of my background, you understand why I was a bit nervous walking through that parking lot and into that event today. James and I walked side by side. Neither one of us were wearing anything that screamed “queer” or “drag queens approaching.” I was in my newsboy hat, white button-up, and brown jeans. James was in a white tee and red shorts. We didn’t wear our frilly, pink suits today. We don’t own any pink outfits if you’re wondering.

As we walked toward the entrance, we got closer to the group of believers gathered at the street shouting out sermons and waving signs. The thought occurred to me: What would they do if a group of gay protesters went to their church parking lot and held up signs saying they didn’t believe in their god and Christianity has killed thousands of people? Now, I don’t necessarily agree with that statement, but I don’t agree with their statements either. So, holding up a sign on a street corner just because you are based in a church organization doesn’t make what you’re saying accurate. Even if it’s in a book that millions admire and look to for inspiration and guidance, that doesn’t mean it’s accurate.

Oh, I know. It’s the infallible Word of God. That’s what they preach. But why do we have to just accept that as truth? We don’t. But they think we do. They think they have the right to tell us. They think they are doing us a service by telling us so.

Something I know, because I came out of their circles. Though there are a select few who actually hate anyone who opposes their beliefs and truly want them dead, still, most of those who are in the group that are called “believers” or “Christian” or “religious” think that when they protest they are doing it in love and truly are thinking about our eternal souls. They think it’s love. They think it’s for our betterment. And from their point of view, it is love. They use this illustration many times. If we know a bridge is out and see someone driving towards it, would we not be remiss if we didn’t warn the person of the pending danger? Or I got this the other day. If you were a doctor and had a cure for cancer and did not administer it, would you not be a terrible doctor? To which I responded, “Yes, and if I were a father and had the power to heal that child of cancer and didn’t, I would be a terrible father.” That guy didn’t respond to me after that.

Now, I wasn’t saying that to be mean. I wasn’t saying that to be disrespectful. I was saying it to help him understand that his reasoning is just as flawed to me as any of my reasoning would be flawed to him.

So, as we walked toward the event, I watched these people very carefully. I knew exactly what they were going to say when I got there, and I was right. They didn’t disappoint. They said exactly what I expected. They held out a tract or a pamphlet. I tried to be respectful, but I did not see their presence as good. I saw it as intrusive, and I knew they had ulterior motives. They not only wanted to win me over to their religion but also gain brownie points with their god. And there may be a small window of desire to gain a fellow church member to help bring in more tithes. Add another notch on their bedpost, I suppose. I for one didn’t want to become a number on their roll today. And I certainly wasn’t giving any of them the satisfaction of accomplishing anything today.

We crossed the street and made it to the entrance of the event without incident and were met with three of them all carrying bibles and tracts. One was a woman who had a baby bundled up against her chest. She held out a tract and smiled. James looked at the one woman who was trying to hand us a tract and said, “Go get you some better Christian love.” I looked at him and said, “Don’t feed this monster.” I didn’t mean that to be disrespectful of James, and I wasn’t necessarily calling the woman a monster. I understood completely what James was trying to convey. But I also know those people have no desire to hear our side of any story. They weren’t there to try to understand why we live the way we do. They weren’t there to try to get a better understanding of our struggles or our fears or our experiences. They don’t care about that. They just simply want to push their agenda.

They say gays have an agenda. But I’ve never seen a gay person go door to door pushing our gayness. I’ve never seen a gay person walk through a neighborhood passing out gay tracts to witness for gayness. I’ve never seen that. Maybe you have. But I certainly have seen plenty of Christians of many different denominations do all the above.

A man came up to James and me as we were leaving Target one day and handed me a CD. I didn’t have time to really say anything. I only grabbed it because I thought he was throwing it. He started preaching to us about his music, Christian music. And I handed it back, thanked him, and declined. He got angry. He said that it spoke volumes of my character to accept something without paying for it. I did a double take and continued walking away. I didn’t engage because he was obviously being ridiculous. James tried to argue with him, because James doesn’t take stuff like that lightly. When he realized I was walking away, he left the man there with his handful of CDs.

James and I continued through the PRIDE event and looked at all the vendors and nodded at a few people. Some were friendly. Some were indifferent. Some probably thought I was snobby, because I’m an introvert at heart and I don’t do well meeting new people. I tried to smile and nod when someone spoke to me. But my introversion kicks in and drives me to keep walking. Don’t ask me why. It’s just that way. I don’t mean to be like that, but I am. We went from vendor to vendor until we walked through the entire event. There were some very nice things.

There was a gentleman on the stage announcing different live events coming up throughout the day. They were going to have live music and a drag show later on. I’m sure the Christians across the street and the ones standing in the entrance would absolutely love that drag show. Hopefully, they got to stay and attend.

For James and me, we were done viewing all the trinkets and shirts and small items the vendors were selling and we left. Neither one of us committed our life to Christ and neither one of us accepted any of the tracts or material. I didn’t feel encouraged or uplifted by their presence, nor did I feel convicted or condemned. The only thing they accomplished for me was reminding me that this world is full of really one-sided people who will never understand nor attempt to understand the struggles and experiences of those they condemn. I could see some of me in those people. I was never too critical of gay people, but I was not accepting either. Mostly, for me, out of fear. Because I didn’t want anyone to know that I was one of them. I thought if I could bury it far enough, it would eventually disappear. But instead, it grew bigger and bigger until it was an all-consuming fire.

I left saddened today. Not at myself or at the event planners, because I thought they did a fine job. It was small, but it must have taken a lot of courage to put it together. Because I guarantee there was some heavy opposition. How they got by the city council in a small, southern, East Tennessee town is beyond me, but I’m glad they did. Still, I was saddened today because I was reminded that there will always be people who never want to hear about people’s experiences and they take joy in knowing that their god will forever punish them because they didn’t believe the way they do.