Recently, students in an education class on my campus had to select a faculty member on campus to observe, interview and study his/her teaching. Several students were clamoring for me, but the instructor only let two observe.
During the interview portion, each had a similar question: "Do you view your job as more than just a job?"
After pausing for a second, I said, "Yes." I continued to declare I view my job as more of a ministry than a job.
Neither student had an evangelical background, so I explained what I meant. I told the students I see my influence and teachings as having life-long ripple effects. Whether it is a skill such as how to design an effective speech, or my modeling of how to be a compassionate and caring professional, I know I can effect the mental, emotional and physical well-being of my students.
It doesn't stop with the classroom. My peers and colleagues can also be positively influenced by my example in committee meetings, being visionary for our campus and demonstrating a strong work ethic.
I could die today, and know I have influenced not only members of this generation, but others to come. My hope is that my friends and family will have the type of employment that is not just a paycheck, but an investment in other people.
It helps to make every day going to "work" a pleasure, and not a chore.
Thursday, October 2, 2014
Sunday, May 4, 2014
The Challenge of Gay Friendships
If there is one thing I definitively miss about pretending to be straight and being in the closet it was the ease I formed and maintained same-sex relationships.
I have not found the same to be true making friends now that I am out and part of the gay community. I have plenty of acquaintances, as well as men I call "friends." However, there is something often missing.
I feel there is much more deceptiveness, hidden agendas and half-truths in my friendships with gay men. If I am noticing it in others, then it leaves me to worry I may be exhibiting those traits as well.
I have had gay friends bail on hanging out with me, only to find out there was something (or someone) better to do. I have had friends give me a list of excuses why we cannot spend time together, only to discover those excuses were not actually real.
I shudder to think what happens to my single gay friends in dating. If gay friends have a propensity for avoiding honesty, gay dating must be a barrage of deception.
It could also be I had a non-normative experience with straight friends. However, I can say my closest straight friends have been more honest and forthright that most of my gay friends.
Is it bred from a culture of hiding? To some degree, all gay men I know had to hide who they were some period of time.
Is it the odd dynamic that a gay friend is also someone you can be attracted to? Does this color regular gay friendship transactions?
This blog entry is not about any answers, but truly about questions. Please comment on my Facebook or the blog itself if you have insights.
I have not found the same to be true making friends now that I am out and part of the gay community. I have plenty of acquaintances, as well as men I call "friends." However, there is something often missing.
I feel there is much more deceptiveness, hidden agendas and half-truths in my friendships with gay men. If I am noticing it in others, then it leaves me to worry I may be exhibiting those traits as well.
I have had gay friends bail on hanging out with me, only to find out there was something (or someone) better to do. I have had friends give me a list of excuses why we cannot spend time together, only to discover those excuses were not actually real.
I shudder to think what happens to my single gay friends in dating. If gay friends have a propensity for avoiding honesty, gay dating must be a barrage of deception.
It could also be I had a non-normative experience with straight friends. However, I can say my closest straight friends have been more honest and forthright that most of my gay friends.
Is it bred from a culture of hiding? To some degree, all gay men I know had to hide who they were some period of time.
Is it the odd dynamic that a gay friend is also someone you can be attracted to? Does this color regular gay friendship transactions?
This blog entry is not about any answers, but truly about questions. Please comment on my Facebook or the blog itself if you have insights.
Thursday, March 6, 2014
Living Out Loud Meets Living In Silence: The Gay Generational Gap
When I started at Hartnell College in 2011, I made a conscience decision to be open and out about the fact I am a gay man. My colleagues were okay with it. My administrators were okay with it. Most importantly, the students were okay with it.
I was soon asked to be the faculty sponsor for the Pride Club on campus. Fellow faculty members began asking me to classes for various lectures on gay culture. Jason and I began speaking with the Rainbow Speakers: a regional group dedicated to educating the broader community about LGBTQ issues.
Being new to campus, I immediately started trying to find the other gay men on campus. In my naivete, I pictured how great it would be to have gay colleagues as an additional sounding board and support.
One of the first I noticed was an older faculty member I will call "Joe." It was obvious to me Joe was gay. A couple of colleagues even asked me in passing if I had "met" or "talked to Joe." It was clear to me, as it was obviously clear to the campus, that Joe was a gay man.
In my typical zest (followed by revelations I am over-eager sometimes), I approached Joe, introduced myself, and asked him if he would be willing to talk to the Pride Club. I told him I want to get a mix of generations on a panel so students could understand some of the history and social changes the gay community has endured.
He became notably uncomfortable, changing the subject. I though it was odd. Later that day, walking across campus, we crossed paths. He stopped, and informed me that he was not "out" on campus and he would appreciate it if I didn't draw attention to him.
It took me off-guard. I was dumbfounded. Never mind the fact that colleagues were fully aware he was a gay man, but he also had some stereotypical traits that were like a neon sign above his head. He sachets like he is walking a perpetual runway, and when he talks, any doubts are quickly removed.
Not sure what to say, I said, "Sure. No problem." With that, he walked away.
In 2 1/2 years, he has barely spoken to me since. His office is located by one of the administrator's I visit frequently, and I attempt to say hello and ask how he is doing. It is regularly met with as little interaction as possible.
I have been introduced to the reality that no matter how much society changes, or how accepting communities or the workplace becomes, some of the older generation of gay men has had to protect themselves for so long they simply keep their status quo of dealing with the world.
Another older gay man that I admire deeply, who has been with his partner for years, is out and active in the community and a notable activist of sorts, but in 20+ years has never come out to his kids and family.
Again, it's not like they don't know. For both of these men, I vacillate between empathy and frustration. For whatever reason, they do not want to admit to all stakeholders in their lives they are gay men. On the one hand, I rationalize it is because of fear, or consequences of trying before, or not wanting to upset the balance each has found. On the other, the brazen part of me is irritated that these men, in their own realms, could help extend, that much further, the acceptance of gay men in the world and they are choosing not to be transparent.
I wonder if any of my peers that have been out for some time, those approaching or in their 40s, feel the pressure to lead multiple existences?
As someone who led half a life being two different people, my honest hope is that the answer would be "no." Society and individual viewpoints of homosexuality are changing quickly, but for some, I have realized it just may never be enough to live life vulnerable.
I was soon asked to be the faculty sponsor for the Pride Club on campus. Fellow faculty members began asking me to classes for various lectures on gay culture. Jason and I began speaking with the Rainbow Speakers: a regional group dedicated to educating the broader community about LGBTQ issues.
Being new to campus, I immediately started trying to find the other gay men on campus. In my naivete, I pictured how great it would be to have gay colleagues as an additional sounding board and support.
One of the first I noticed was an older faculty member I will call "Joe." It was obvious to me Joe was gay. A couple of colleagues even asked me in passing if I had "met" or "talked to Joe." It was clear to me, as it was obviously clear to the campus, that Joe was a gay man.
In my typical zest (followed by revelations I am over-eager sometimes), I approached Joe, introduced myself, and asked him if he would be willing to talk to the Pride Club. I told him I want to get a mix of generations on a panel so students could understand some of the history and social changes the gay community has endured.
He became notably uncomfortable, changing the subject. I though it was odd. Later that day, walking across campus, we crossed paths. He stopped, and informed me that he was not "out" on campus and he would appreciate it if I didn't draw attention to him.
It took me off-guard. I was dumbfounded. Never mind the fact that colleagues were fully aware he was a gay man, but he also had some stereotypical traits that were like a neon sign above his head. He sachets like he is walking a perpetual runway, and when he talks, any doubts are quickly removed.
Not sure what to say, I said, "Sure. No problem." With that, he walked away.
In 2 1/2 years, he has barely spoken to me since. His office is located by one of the administrator's I visit frequently, and I attempt to say hello and ask how he is doing. It is regularly met with as little interaction as possible.
I have been introduced to the reality that no matter how much society changes, or how accepting communities or the workplace becomes, some of the older generation of gay men has had to protect themselves for so long they simply keep their status quo of dealing with the world.
Another older gay man that I admire deeply, who has been with his partner for years, is out and active in the community and a notable activist of sorts, but in 20+ years has never come out to his kids and family.
Again, it's not like they don't know. For both of these men, I vacillate between empathy and frustration. For whatever reason, they do not want to admit to all stakeholders in their lives they are gay men. On the one hand, I rationalize it is because of fear, or consequences of trying before, or not wanting to upset the balance each has found. On the other, the brazen part of me is irritated that these men, in their own realms, could help extend, that much further, the acceptance of gay men in the world and they are choosing not to be transparent.
I wonder if any of my peers that have been out for some time, those approaching or in their 40s, feel the pressure to lead multiple existences?
As someone who led half a life being two different people, my honest hope is that the answer would be "no." Society and individual viewpoints of homosexuality are changing quickly, but for some, I have realized it just may never be enough to live life vulnerable.
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