More often than not, an opportunity to educate others walks across the room and literally plants itself directly in front of you. I see those opportunities as tests, and like most tests, some are more difficult than others.
But it’s not the ease of the test that distracts me after such an opportunity presents itself. It’s how I react to it that tickles the back of my brain for hours, weeks, or even months to come.
We’ve all had those situations come before us where we react instinctually only to think back on the encounter with the all too familiar phrase beginning with, “I wish I would have…” I had one such test land before me just a few days before typing this column.
It takes a lot to offend me. I am told often that I am one of the most laid back, gentle souls anyone could meet. I wear that as an honor and credit my father for passing on his disposition to his son. But there is a significant difference between being laid back and getting walked upon. And as an outspoken of the LGBT community, I’m tired of getting trampled, especially in an age of so much progress.
As a proud fitness nut, my workouts are typically an uneventful, sweaty 90 minutes of heavy lifting and 80s and 90s music pumping through my ear buds.
But as colleges begin to let out for the semester, younger people, mostly male, have trickled in, usually causing minor congestion. When I heard that one of these college-aged men had derogatory things to say about another gay member using the club, I turned off the music and paid closer attention to my surroundings.
I’m glad I did.
The person who was the target of some homophobic remarks mentioned to me what happened, nodding in the direction of the offending party as he expressed concern that his boyfriend may make a scene. Blame luck, fate or coincidence, but I soon found myself within a few feet of the group.
The term “faggot” isn’t only offensive, it’s juvenile, no matter who’s using it. Too often we shrug off offensive language and blame the guilty party’s lack of education or upbringing for his or her behavior. But why don’t we step in as educators? If that term was hurled at me, wouldn’t I want someone to step up and correct the bad behavior? Should I stop him and casually suggest he apologize to the target of his language? Or should I take a more aggressive route and ask him why he didn’t use that language in describing me, someone nearly 100 pounds heavier than him?
As a spokesperson for the LGBT community, how will my actions be perceived? Will I think back on this incident and wish that I had done something different?
These were the questions swirling around my head as I kept an eye on the nearby group. Fortunately, patience prevailed and a staff member confronted the offending party, privately, in the back of the gym. Afterward, I thanked the staffer for handling the situation without offering specifics, but I continued to pay close attention to the group.
And that’s when I heard the same young man use an expletive-laced sentence complete with the word “faggot” once again. So much for the enlightened, younger generation.
My body reacted before my brain could vote on the matter. I found myself stepping toward him, calmly asking if he had something to say to me, since I was the only gay man within earshot of his voice. His response was a stuttering, “No, man…no, I was listening to music,” and stepped away.
I know my height and size intimidated him, and that’s exactly what I was going for. I’m not invincible but I’ve decided to use my presence to combat stupidity, and I challenge anyone who values equality and loathes discrimination to do the same.
The only way we will continue to make progress is if we make a stand every time we hear hateful rhetoric toward LGBT people. My one encounter will not change the world, but I now know one person who will think twice-and maybe look around a bit more thoroughly-before insulting the LGBT community in the future.
