OCTOBER 1975

THE OUTCOME

In spite of those who resist humanistic progress, we continue to learn more of ourselves and each other, and as we do, more of our stereotyped fables fall. Although evolving humanism and rationalism have made opportunities for change possible for women, blacks, and other minorities, there is still one group who remain repressed, ridiculed, and feared the homosexuals.

Little is known about gay people for a plurality of reasons. They are styled as an open sore to our code of morality, sinful, harmful, perverted, decadent, sick..... The list of reproaches could extend indefinitely. Yet homosexuality is an abiding reality and cannot be hidden under the proverbial basket.

I was here to share some of my personal experiences in "coming out" and in doing so hope that I can shed some light on a subject that until recently was painstakingly avoided.

It was very difficult for me initially to accept the fact that I was gay. Throughout my early scholastic years I ardently dated girls and engaged in constrained lovemaking with thembut pointedly always short of actual orgasm or conscious pleasure. I wasn't privately contented with the situation but the social pressures were enormous. My parents not only urged but expected me to find an appropriate marriage partner, and the crowd of guys I palled with made a central issue of the number of girls one was able "to score." Unhappy with coerced heterosexuality, I became asexual, associating with men but having no sexual contacts.

It was not until my first year of graduate school that my incomplete sexuality and dangerously increasing feelings

of inadequacy compelled me to take action to alleviate this self-imposed predicament. At this point I knew nothing of the gay world other than that which the traditional mores of society had taught me. According to folkfore, "fags" were effeminate, secretly wishing they were women, all enamored with interior decorating and hair styling, vulnerable to blackmail, frail, and just generally neurotic, self-deprecating, pitiful individuals.

I could not see myself fitting into that environment. I was happy with being a man, I participated in sports. I was not overly macho, but certainly not effeminate, and though I occasionally penned short stories and enjoyed modern dance, never thought such behavior unmanly. So I was apprehensive and frankly frightened at making any homosexual contacts. Yet the motivation to explore and temptation of fulfillment lead me to convince a friend who conveniently was at the same stage of development as I was to visit a gay bar.

Upon that first arrival, I was immensely relieved to discover that many of my precmnceptions were groundless. Everyone there looked "normal." The majority of men acted as "straight" as any of my male heterosexual friends. As I became more immersed in this so-called undrworld, I realized that much of the mythical hype spread about homosexuals was nonsenseideas circulated by myopic people who plainly did not know what they were talking about. The men I encountered came from all walks of life. There were college students, truck drivers, chemical engineers, dentists, and machinists, black and white,

HIGH GEAR

Catholic and Jews. I was immediately struck with the impression that were I not at a gay bar, I never would have guessed that the people there were homosexuals.

In retrospect I can now see that my initial sexual contacts with other men made me feel somewhat distressed. Though satisfying, they frequently resulted in remorse. Years of rustic conditioning had influenced me so extensively that I felt immoral and diabolical. But then as I became more aware through experience and education, I realized mental illness or sin was relative to existing mores; I came to accept myself. In my quest for what Maslow has termed self-actualization, I found that the only person I am ultimately responsible to is myself. And so long as I am satisfied with who I am that is all I need to lead a productive, selffulfilling life.

By no means did this discovery come over night, but when it did finally emerge, openly and no longer self-consciously, my snowballing process of self-actualization prodded me to tell of my new self to those with whom

had

emotional ties. Surprisingly, although there was some initial shock and even despair (especially among members of my family), the primary turbulence subsided with a return to normal interactions. No one ceased being my friend and so far as I could assess, no individuals perceived me in a foreign manner.

I am different to be sure, but I think those who respect my present state are sufficiently enlightened to realize that there are many facets to me outside of just sexuality. Certainly I cannot be judged with sexual criteria when it concerns my performance as a psychometrist, an author, a citizen or as a friend. It is heartening to see those that I

love are able to accept that precept.

•

I am happy with myself now and open with those I come in come in contact, for I believe fervently that any societal renovation must appear on an individual level. Change has gen-⚫ erally always been a painful process. It discards the old which offers security and ushers in the new and different which can be threatening. Still, progress is only attainable through change.. My offering you this portion of my life ultimately leads to a deeply held philosophicel conviction-that the thrust of all liberations-whether personal or universal-is to uproot any social differentiations that separate rather than unify us as a people. We still can and should appre-⚫

•

Page 9

Mind Games

They stood,

an intensely electrified four feet between them.

All around,

the caberet wailed its Saturday night song.

But, their eyes were the fixed endpoints

of an elevated line,

on which nothing moved-

except for the mind, which had lustily sped through the potential delights of the next twelve hours,

and were embarking on a second performance!

ciate our cultural differences, for Parkside

from their interplay lies the future of mankind, yet when one faces the homosapien situation objectively, there are neither⚫ Anglo-Saxons nor Orientals;; blacks nor women nor gays-only human beings.

By ZIGGY

Maneuvers

Sitting, all sittingday in, day out,

seven days a week.

No matter what time, tem⚫perature, disturbance-inter-

Boys, men, girls, women-

I feel the laughter of the uptions regretably few. lavatory seats Pressed up through palm trees as they spread up the

heat:

through⚫

parade their wares, expose their cares.

Watching, all watching-

The sacred scab, they stab the for the right moment, doors into the street.

fall into a pit of what's⚫ belonging.

Men Ing It is the fool who rails this acorn fate, Crushes cobwebs, slides my

people up deholy states. Falls on knees that shake a solitary waste.

His eyes can't keep my tired feet from believing. These bridges block the myriads of ancient fright. We hold our hands, say what is right is not so light.

A collage of cannons march forward into needed strife. The time is up. Yes, yesterday is forgotton.

the glance of a life-time. Satin people on the move-

endlessly.

back and forth, back and forth,

The above poems are for publication in High Gear magazine only unless otherwise stated by the author, Fred Peel. Thankyou, Fred Peel.

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