“We can’t convert anyone to gay. If that were the case, we’d be doing missions too,” said drag star Eureka O’Hara in the recently released trailer for the third season of “We’re Here.” The HBO reality series features O’Hara, joined by fellow “Drag Race” alumni Bob the Drag Queen and Shangela, as they visit small towns throughout the U.S. spreading the good word on tolerance and LGBTQ acceptance.
I must confess that I am not a big follower of drag. I don’t watch “Drag Race” unless Ginger Minj is on it and I probably couldn’t name more than five or six queens outside of the Central Florida and Tampa Bay area. I must say though that I really love “We’re Here” and I think it is because I grew up in small towns like the ones they go to in the show. Towns where, even if you know your family will accept you, the fear that simply by you coming out will not only make life harder for you but will also make it harder for them. I have heard too many stories and seen too much how people react to the LGBTQ community, and that includes our allies.
https://youtu.be/9ghvJYFxt-0
Watching the trailer for “We’re Here,” which the third season premieres on HBO Max Nov. 25, got me thinking about when I did first come out and, after doing the math, I realized that I came out 20 years ago. I about fell over, has it been two decades since I first confessed to someone that I am a gay man?
I was 23 and in my second year of serving in the U.S. Air Force. I had done pretty well masking my “gayness” — or at least I thought I did — when it came to work. I was serving under “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” and the anti-LGBTQ watchful eye of the George W. Bush administration so the “straighter” I acted the fewer side eyes and snickers I received. To this day, if I am talking to someone I don’t know and I don’t know what side of the LGBTQ support line they stand, I will revert back to my “straight act.” It amuses some of those in the office when they hear “that voice” answer my phone. I don’t know how much “straighter” I was actually coming across but I thought I was totally masc, like Harrison Ford or Bruce Willis. Looking back, I’m sure it wasn’t like that at all.
But as I made friends and started to relax around them, I started to be the real me. The me who isn’t afraid to laugh, get loud and have fun. You know, the gay me. As I started to show more of my authentic self, I became more comfortable with them and in turn they became more comfortable with me, which allowed them as a group to ask me straight out if I am gay. I was stationed in Aviano, Italy and we were all out having a drink at a bar that was far enough away from base that we didn’t have to worry about other people hearing us chat. A bar mostly frequented by Italians that we affectionately called the Heineken Bar because of a giant, neon Heineken sign behind the bar.
They gathered around me in a semi-circle as if they were having an intervention and asked “Jeremy, are you gay?” Now I had been asked this question before when I was younger, usually in the context of “Are you a fag?” or “Are you… you know?” accompanied by a limp-wristed hand gesture but this was different. It was asked with calm eyes and caring voices, so for the first time ever I responded to the question with a “yes, I’m gay.”
It felt good to say gay out loud and it felt good to say it to a group of people who were supportive and were going to look out for me no matter what. It was a pivotal moment in my life and I am forever grateful for those who let me know it was OK to be me.
As I write this, it is Election Day and I don’t know what kind of uphill battle we are looking at [Editor’s Note: check out our election coverage here.] and I know we probably have a few big wins but I’m not naive and I know we have some tough losses. Those losses are going to be harder for LGBTQ youth who are losing support from people in their schools along with many already having no support in their neighborhoods, churches and families, so it is vital that we are those people who are looking out for them, that we are those people who are here to listen, support and defend if need be. Because, I fear, they won’t be getting too much of that from Tallahassee and up in Washington, D.C.
