As my dear Golden Girl Sophia might say, “Picture it. It’s December 1960 and I had just arrived in a decidedly homophobic world.”
It would be nearly three decades before I became aware of who I really was and what a disaster coming out to my parents on my 25th birthday would be. I lived in Central Ohio and it was only seven degrees below zero when they brought me home from the hospital, just in case you wondered why I’m a Floridian.
Let’s remember what it was like during that time. I couldn’t be openly gay and a teacher or professor. I couldn’t serve in any leadership roles with any religious institution, not even the Quakers that now embrace me.
No way was I welcome in the military or in another government job. No legal profession would have me, and the established mental health community thought I was deranged, so I couldn’t even be a nurse.
I am only touching on the extreme prejudice of the time against those who were openly gay or even suspected of being such. More than half of Americans thought homosexuality was a perversion that needed to be “cured.” When I was born I literally could go to jail for just being who I am.
As time went on, television and films might have a gay character here and there, but they were almost always involved in tragedy. Quite often they were killed before an ending that could show that same-sex couples loved one other and could lead spectacular lives together.
We made progress slowly, often painfully so, even surrounded by nonsense like the Defense of Marriage Act – which federally defined marriage as the union of one man and one woman – and Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, which barred openly gay, lesbian and bisexual Americans from serving openly in the military.
TV shows started having real gay characters. Ellen came out, “Seinfeld,” “Murphy Brown,” “The Golden Girls” and “Designing Women” had gay characters and eventually, “Queer as Folk” took it to an entirely different level. They showed what gay sex was really all about.
I was born nine years before Stonewall, which I never even learned about until I was out of college. Even today our community’s history isn’t taught in the majority of the nation’s schools, something which – like having the St Pete Pride parade televised – is still on my “gay activist bucket list” here in Florida.
Growing up when I did wasn’t easy. In the middle of all that change AIDS came along. Your friends were dropping dead all around you and the stigma was horrible. I joined that community in 1992 and honestly I’m still not sure why I’m alive and part of this new community of “long term survivors,” characterized as those who have lived more than 25 years with the disease. Apparently God isn’t done with me yet.
For far too long we had a patchwork of states recognizing same-sex marriage. At one point I took an oath that I wouldn’t cut my hair until we had marriage equality in Florida. What a blessed day when my Quaker family had a big celebration and cut my shoulder length hair behind the meeting house. We donated that blond ponytail to Locks of Love.
Change has come. According to a Gallup poll released in June, 70% of Americans now support same-sex marriage, the highest since they began tracking it in 1996 when it was 27%. Isn’t that amazing?
I was 44 when the unthinkable happened in 2015 and we started getting married. Our current president was vice president at the time and pressured then-President Obama to show his public support, so let’s give credit where it’s due. Thanks, Joe!
For years I couldn’t imagine how easy it would become to just tell someone “I’m gay.” Now, if they react at all, and most don’t, they say something like “good for you.”
I know I live in the “gay bubble’ of Gulfport and St. Petersburg, but I’m glad we can be a shining example of what diverse communities can be. I remain profoundly grateful to live here. Our community makes it happen and I have to thank you all so, so much. 1960s Greg would be speechless.
As the founding chair of St. Pete’s first Pride parade, as a member of the board of directors of the LGBTQ Resource Center of the Gulfport Public Library, as a member of a town that is almost 30% gay and a regular contributor of Watermark, let me make it very clear ahead of National Coming Out Day on Oct. 11. I’m Queer.
There. I did what I couldn’t do in 1960 and I encourage all of you to do the same. Thank you to everyone who made it possible!
Greg Stemm is a longtime resident of Pinellas County and a founder of St Pete Pride. He currently sits on the board of the award-winning LGBTQ Resource Center of the Gulfport Public Library and is an outspoken activist on many issues, including HIV/AIDS education.
