Living in Edmond, Oklahoma with my graduating class of 1984 I was you guessed it bullied, beaten up, and harassed upon moving here in the 6th grade 1978. The first words spoken to me were at lunchtime sitting alone and having my year arch rival and Nemesis take my carton of milk and pouring it on me and forever hearing one word that forever would ring true in high tones, low tones, and the ever present Reverb…FAGGOT would be the cross to bear those so called formative years. But why tell this story of my misfortunes as a unbeknown st to me a in the closet gay teenager. I thought I had it hard then my partner of almost 25 years this August and 15 years older also was in the closet but he was married with two kids and one on the way. But I digress. For whatever reason we met and would both come out basically around the same time, with very different outcomes, but lessons well learned and information/support for others in similar situations after us. Today they practically help carry you out of the closet with Icons coming out to look up too, safe sex and the dangers if not practiced, along with TV shows to laugh with us and not at us have made a HUGE difference in the term “Coming Out”.
However it is not all petticoats and rainbows throughout this great land of our and Internationally, believe it or not but smaller”Christian” communities and Nations along with religious dogma put upon those who practice or suspected to be homosexual. Don’t get me started on Abstinence fights AIDS. Reading some of my bookmarked blogs and informative sites sometimes the stuff I read is as if nothing has changed.
Now setting the stage to the point of this story and segway into my history of professional and unique careers. From the late spring of 1983 coming out to my closest friends and then embraced who I was is when I first challenged and went against the system or grain of how things are suppose to be. Starting with the name calling late junior year someone scream “Gay boy”, my response “you Betcha”, only to be received by a look of complete shock and disbelief I took the power away from these bullies and those words gave me more strength then it ever tortured me in shame. Soon I would get Homo or fag depending on which bully I was in view of.
The worse of course would be of the one I spoke of earlier in 6th grade and his great way of saying hello to the new kid on the block. Looking back I really think he was gay himself and his homophobia harassment was filled with so much anger the site of me I am speculating on this was the very “thing” or “gay” he was scared to death of being grouped with. No secret I was rather cross butch/fem gay. I know he came from an all guy brother family and knew he must of gotten the macho testorostone kick in the ass raising any straight or gay guy would hate to be raised in.
I finally took my years of anger and frustrations using my new found strength to channel it all into becoming the first MALE High School Cheerleader in the Oklahoma School System 1983-1984. 1983 the most important requirement was having to be in PEP club for a single year in order to earn a place in tryouts for cheerleader. It was hell, getting initiated, toilet papering the football teams houses, MUMS on our homecoming game to finally asking all of the athletes in all sports to sign a big cut out Letter E to finish my part in this crazy but empowering time of my young adult life.
I was also on the High School Swimming team which I had been competing upon my family moving to Oklahoma and was starting to get noticed and the idea of the Olympics someday was a possibility but also complete dedication along with Hard work/and focus. My Dad was Uber Dad when it came to this very proud time for any father and son with whom had a strained relationship anyway because it didn’t take much to guess I was a little Nancy pants. Later that year I quit the team out of spite and not because of Cheer-leading not to mention it was early summer 1983 and yet had not come out to my family. Plans were in the making but destroyed later in October 2 weeks prior to my 17th birthday Senior year which without getting into all that drama over again only got me a one way ticket out of the house and into the street. If not for some close friends and families who to this day I have never forgotten and thank yous could never be enough for helping me out a little here and a little there, if you are reading this you know who you are. Wiggles Wiggy. How did I survive emotionally often I am asked, when you are naive and young you truly never realize just how dangerous, desperate, and what if’s play with your mind like they do when you get older I would have been an emotional mess. Not to forget just coming OUT gay men were happy to help in more ways then one, but Italian did give me good genes on being Street smart.
So with my new found legacy as Edmond, OK’s first High school cheerleader making the front page of our Junior/Senior Yearbook. Photo of me in Pep club drag getting a senior cheerleader signature on that large letter E I spoke of. (I will try to hunt it down or get it scanned somehow. I bet one of the classmates sites will have it.) Another cool part of my first male cheerleader prize was an all expense paid weekend clinic to learn more about cheering learn gymnastics, more cheers, and dance etc. Plus OU had male squad members in college. That is another twisted part of this tale but I digress.The Midwest and adjoining states came for this summer camp on the OU college campus to.New to the game and not rehearsed or practiced for the competitions the squad had been practicing prior to tryouts was a real competition of prestige. This was also the first time I had heard others talking about this mysterious Spirit Stick award they give to a select few. Remember this is about 400 plus participants and was not based on male or female. Called and coveted the Spirit Stick was like the Oscar is to movie stars. A coveted baton of Red, White, and Blue handed out to those who displayed exceptional spirit over the clinic weekend along with our teams placement’s in the competitions days earlier.
Well by my colorful description I am sure you guessed to my honest to God unexpected moment of bliss hearing my name called out over the sound system to the high pitched squeals of hundreds of screaming girls and maybe a dozen male mascot/ and or other brave soldiers from the joining states it was and I use this term and not loosely either, it was my 6th grade up until that very moment God completed one of the 3 circles in my life since making every question, every fear, every thought, every dream, every blessing, “Everything”- one HUGE Giant Circle filled with the years of doubt and self loathing washed away along with those thoughts, fears, and my prayers having the answers, feeling spiritually what I had been stifled to think of my feelings as perverted religiously the feeling our God in the presence of Jesus was right there in my heart for what sounds like a 15 minute Odyssey but a split second as my mind and spirit would leave this descriptive slow motion dance only to awaken me for what was to begin anew in my life in this very moment forward.
How can I say this or maybe debate this without those who feel the need to educate me on or bombard my mailbox with Leviticus scripture, the catch though is raised a strict catholic and even finished my confirmation at the harder times in my Italian household relationship with my parents from dropping the swim team, to late night weekends, to this cheer-leading phase. This may sound dramatic for effect or cheesy to others for applying this “spirit stick” story on so THICK, sounding like Natalie of Team Christ Big Brother 9 style.
So with this glorious inspiring story you would think things were going my way. Not too fast, after-all I was more than a bit A.D.D., Class clown, and know with my acceptance to all the naysayers and haters who harassed me with Faggot, and Homo no longer cared. It wasn’t worth making fun of me cause I would agree with them but added and peppered with my quick witted gay tongue. So basically before my senior year started the gay community and gay rags like the Jungle Red which consisted of 10-12 pages printed and then folded in half to look like a little gay booklet. Come on it was circa Oklahoma city 1983. Needing models for their boutiques I was honored when asked to model for them.
Modeling was also one of my dream it be it goals. So shooting photos for t shirts never crossed my mind when I was bottomless and wearing a purple satin bow tie holding a huge long thick candy cane in my mouth. With the holidays coming up it made sense. Fast forward to film developing day with the pedophile oh I mean photographer I was amazed and thought WOW, I am a model and a really good one because he shot more photos then I remembered. Like bending over to get stuff on the floor, etc.
So asking for some 5×7’s he obliged and this time when I took them to school I was going to be less careless and attention getting like I was the day at Cheer-leading practice late one night in July telling the girls of my dalliances in the dark and truly my naiveté’ cost someone in my life dearly because there were no shows like “to catch a predator” and I was not busy learning the laws of underage let alone gay sex. He was the judge at our Pom Pon girl tryouts our junior year and I hunted him down like Nancy drew would have and was smitten. He a teacher almost 30 and a cheer-leading coach in another district but telling my tales not only grossed the girls out but showing them contact sheets from my photo shoot was too much to handle and they flipped on me. No mistake and lesson learned this time I would show trusted friends only in private areas and protected from faculty prying eyes.
Parents were notified, dogs and cats sleeping together hysteria would ensue. I got suspended from cheering at our first game and warned in a finger wagging almost baptist loving way this was my last chance or I would be kicked off the squad.hmmm my mouth had to say don’t you get 3 times and then your out like a warning, suspension, and expulsion. This is how my cheer-leading grooming guide/rules and regs read to me. But apparently I was hearing and seeing different emotions from the students. 70 percent were very supportive and cool with it plus I made them all laugh etc. It was the football team who was getting branded gay because of the guy cheerleader and the faculty truly didn’t think it or I would go as far as I did and be awarded for it.
Faculty had their nasty hands in it and they wreaked of it. That was nothing to when I found out later the next week I after dealing with my living situation drama like no home and still not OUT to my family. I tried to focus on the good things in my life like concentrating only on a dream come true preparing for my second football game. It was then I found out about a minor change in plans as decided one male and 8 girls was uneven and I would stand out so the sewing machine and costume designer were hired and began the process of creating the worst, lame, last minute head to toe cover up Bulldog costume created Mascot scrubbing all discussions of a male matching uniform so excited and planned back when the spirit stick was still warm in my hand. Coach and powers that be like every one of my teachers, principal, vice principal, security guards even down to my drama class faculty was on HIGH ALERT to Sound the Alarm if and When Mr. Collins was out of line for ANYTHING. I wish I still had a photo of just how weak and truly gay this bulldog costume mascot whatevs looked like. It worked in my favor for the football team thought the bulldog was more gay than me actually. If even possible
Typing this story out for the umpteenth time seems to add and make the not so clear memories clearer and this is actually pissing me off this bullying I endured from 6th grade to my Senior year was nothing compared to the 3 months of School Faculty making sure to set traps to discourage me and either I would quit or get kicked off. OHHH how could they. Can you say so angry and let down I was fit to read the lot of them even though I was just learning how to “Read someone correctly” from my Gay family
I made a vow when I was “REBAPTIZED” to never lie or deceive anybody for any reason over anything. Mainly because I made this vow to lie ever again but also because I am a horrible liar my poker face or tell so I am told happens before the truth ever comes into question.
My childhood hero while others on the block had superheroes mine may God strike me dead was Jesus. Sure I had spider-man and loved the wolf-man etc, but Jesus truly was my hero. Ask my family and they will verify my saving of allowances to find Jesus paraphernalia and my coveted bust bought at a garage sale in 1976 Warren, Michigan. So loved it and lost it from breaking. To this day I have scoured for the bust of him and the Sacred Heart. Still his number one fan, but no longer identify with any form of organized religion.
After my painful years OUT and Catholic I turned my back on Catholicism. (Madonna circa 1983-84 was so helpful getting me Thru this particular time) Giving me the chance to have Jesus, prayer, and confession thru certain friends and clergy within churches around the country allowed me to have a healthy sustaining fulfilling spiritual life in the middle years of my chaos late 1984 to suicide attempt 1995.
Getting my act together and moving back home to Oklahoma after prior years living in LA, South Beach, Houston, New York, working as a featured Dancer/Go-Go boy/Stripper/Chip-n-Dale on the road early 80’s up until the last full circle God would show, share, and reveal to me on Fire Island unexpectedly atop a square wooden pedestal stage without any mind altering drugs to remember it just like the description earlier except this time I was 31 years old, it was the infamous fund raiser-Tea Dance titled ” The Morning Party” outside on the beach’s of fire island this being my first and last party, Circuit event, dancer, and performer as I had grown to know and love for so many wonderful years. Revealing to me this glorious sunny perfect picturesque snapshot of a thousand plus topless boys bodies glistening in the glare of the hot sun as the summer was coming to a close this particular Labor Day weekend August of 1997.
I can close my eyes and be taken back there if I am in a meditative state. Once again sounds corny but when in the presence of gazing upon a top floor, rafters built as a balcony to view the downstairs action or basically used for cruising at higher altitudes. If in the right state of mind you get up and over to witness first hand the Music, Excitement, Body Boys all shirtless and shiny with sweat with the top of the night or Prime Time you will feel your senses being overloaded with a combination of Sound,Warmth,Love,Sexual feelings you didn’t even know you had mixed in with True Primal Energy the presence of a Higher Power/Spirituality/ or in my case God himself his healing hands slowly swaying over the dense but electric crowd and the good Positive Energy bouncing all over the dance floor you can’t but get wrapped up in it. However on this day the Gays were literally glowing ambassadors and it was outside at high noon. The energy was so tangible I remember the smell, taste, and feelings so overwhelming to not only my inner peace but my personal struggles and salvation once again heard full circle.
Looking back over the many events and dances I worked in back in the day from atop my dancing box Gay Men when lit to perfection depending on what city and time of night, day, and event for they all have a different vibe it is so intense to watch from a balcony from afar the hundreds or thousands all dancing in one big sweaty entity. As the Dj’s begin teasing with the mighty creative crescendo’s of slow to fast, faster, and fastest you hear that loud roar just before it reaches the top of that particular music mix, lights and lasers at full speed, smoke just enough to see what once looked like a bunch of guys moving to a beat to an actual connected complete organism all moving in perfect unison back and forth, side to side, around and down, hands up and over, heads rolling together and nothing but JOY one can take away from seeing this for themselves.
Of course this description can be completely off if you are with the wrong group of people, taking too many drugs, being drunk doesn’t work at all, you will puke most likely from all the motion, and most important the DJ spinning the records. Said it before I will say it again. The Circuit Events I worked were my church and the DJ’s were the Priests and this was how God/Jesus/spirituality stayed in my life and never let me down, until I let myself down and got myself involved in harder, riskier, destructive behaviors which led me down to the attempt finally no spirit left May 1994.
Living with HIV/AIDS with no cure in sight,those including me now no longer able to be the Educator, Speaker, or Example of Long term survivors who thought maybe my positive diagnosis in 1985 exposed in 1983 may just have it beat. But God knows what he is doing and in 1999 my HIV positive status took a turn for the worse and I now live with O.I’s and the new label Gay with AIDS. After my epiphany on Fire Island back in 1997 accepting what I knew was becoming my reality and without the descriptive story behind this particular afternoon and what led up to it you will have to search my archives to read it..Knowing at that moment at a buff and I can say still holding handsome would never be on top of the box again. No pun intended.
Bowing out gracefully without any fanfare, announcements, last dance, or goodbye knew my cookie cutter decade plus Entertainment career was over and I was OK with it. As a matter of fact I was almost forced down twice for climbing atop the “Morning Parties Sacred stage” long story short evil individuals, envious and/or jealous warriors who had worked with the first batch of those with the Gay Cancer in NYC when no one else cared, this being why and how “the Morning Party” fund raiser came to be for a few residents to part of our gay life and culture. With the velvet rope, certain transsexual who shall remain nameless doing incantations to destroy anything I enjoyed along with getting between the politics of some and understandably “pinched” true heroes of the cause who at the time didn’t get a POZ magazine cover story, doing the talk show circuit as the new face of what Healthy (a body) and positive looked like all the while being touted the HIV Positive Super model it was bound to get ugly and almost did.
My spirit prevailed and no one most likely noticed or remembered me except the kind words spoken among st friends for example “oh no not her tired ass again”, or ” get that dragged out drugged up dancing queen off my morning party stage” Loving I know, Gay men are known for their cattiness and turf. NYC and LA come together for the weekend but cliques are always still in play except on trade agreements and even then if you both are on separate coasts don’t plan on exchanging numbers. I have seen allot, done allot, ingested even more and in my messiest states of mind I could always tell the boys apart from coast to coast. Those cliques in the Circuits back in my day were still alive with those poor wimps and wannabees need not apply waiting in the wings ala’ velvet hoper’s to be let in or mixed with the elite pretty boy. Unless you had drugs or lots of money you pretty much would get the C or D packages. C for either Considered for or being a Capable B lister but needed to work out more if to be considered for both. D basically means dial a Dump or Deliver to local shelter. Being pretty is a bitch, well it is.
alternative more with the times at hand actually the pastor and the last church I was deeply involved in hearing, identifying, and allowed to question the word of the Lord but not in a who’s right and wrong way but to understand why 3 passages none of which are from Jesus himself are singled out and used to punish, embarrass, and disenfranchise those who need direction, love, and support the most. The time these individuals are scared of not living with Gods love and Grace and being told they are weak sinners of the flesh and need to get right with God and either pray about it, or join one of those masquerading traveling con man conferences like the Exodus program. If it works and it does turn you from gay to straight I am the exception to their rules. But to each is own.
Licensed Hair Traffic Controller- Cosmetologist to be exact. Worked and promoted my own spot fighting for clients in a then cut throat world of hairdressing with turf and perms was the name of the game. Survival was something you just couldn’t worry about. Getting my License to operate in 1986 I pounded out a career, marketing campaign, and was able to relocate to LA. “This Man needs to Cut your Hair” was my tag line and using my then youthful physique and “looks” it caused a bit of a stir and controversy back in Oklahoma City the bible belt of our U.S. of A.
Moving to LA was my choice having nothing to do with Hair especially after I found out they wanted another 600 + hours to do hair in Venice back in 1989. As you can see I can go on and on and on but won’t. My apologies for using the word “With” more than I should have. Strange how some words get overused and some underused. Bad grammar I guess. more to come
