GUEST COLUMNIST: Finding an acceptable community

It has been a year since I wrote about this. Since I wrote about coming out to my fraternity. There have been some changes since then. Some good and some bad. I find this experience so hard to put into words. Concealed whispers and muffled insults are often harder to write about and even worse to understand. It has been a long year. I have been questioning my brotherhood and myself. I wanted to be the "big man" on campus; so I joined clubs and continued with my fraternity. For a time I thought I should hide my sexuality. I told my brothers -- if I couldn't tell them who could I tell. So I came out. I sent a letter to the house and it was read during a chapter meeting. The response was fine. No names, no bashing, no fights. They took it better than I had expected. I attended functions after coming out. I had dinner at the house and went to meetings. But no matter how hard I tried, there was always a wall separating me from my brothers. I couldn't tell them about guys I was dating. I had to edit my weekend and become what I had often been told "the straightest gay man I know." Every time I ate dinner at the house, it was inevitable. I would hear "You know, he is such a fuckin' fag?no offense, Ron." Eventually I stopped going to the house. I couldn't take the jokes or the "unintentional insults" -- those backhanded compliments always begin,"Well, Ron, I don't mean to offend you but?" and they would always wind in fag or dyke or nigger. I found myself forcing the fraternity into my life. And it happened the night we had to choose who to give bids to. I sat on the couch in the living room and several brothers were talking about the rushes. "How is he with chicks?" "Well, look at him he is such a fuckin' fag?" "He's such a pansy-ass fag, he's such tool." And there it began. I felt betrayed and hurt. More than I ever tell people. I wanted to yell. But it continued. "Who else is rushing him? Don't worry they're all fags; he'll come here." I didn't know what to do -- cry or kick ass. I did neither. I closed my eyes and hoped that someone other than me would say something. I hoped someone realized what they were saying and how much it hurt. And then he began speaking -- the only guy I thought would educate my brothers that what they were saying was wrong. He didn't, he added to the fire. "Well when I was on that team they said all frat guys were fags. And you know that none of us are fags so I think that we should take him from them." One tear and I left. I haven't been back since. During that week brothers asked, "Ron, are you still pissed off?" "Don't be so sensitive," they said. "You know that we were joking around," others added. I am not angry. Just disappointed. And one of the things that hurt the most was in that group of 40 there are some who weren't joking around. Last week, a brother called wanting to know if I needed a T-shirt to commemorate one of our mixers with a certain sorority. I didn't want a T-shirt. I wanted a brotherhood. I wanted to know when I wear my letters there are guys who will stand by me when times are rough. I have lots of T-shirts but I don't have a brotherhood. After the adversity, I found a group, a community. I discovered friends I had lost. I thank the community here at Penn -- the people who have supported me and other gays from things like this. In the end, I suppose I did find the brotherhood I was searching for. I find it ironic sometimes. I see freshman men and women running around blindfolded and carrying lunchboxes. I hope they know and understand what they are getting into and are allowed to grow into independent students. Not the quiet souls who sit on the sidelines and become part of the group. It is my hope they find a vibrant supportive community at Penn, one that challenges them to think and not just do. This is the bond that is unconditional. Soon I will be leaving Penn for the real world of work. I will take a few memories with me. Perhaps speaking at the B-GLAD (Bisexual Gay and Lesbian Awareness Days) rally, or dancing till 3 a.m. with my Club 111 and Asian party buddies, but few will be about the fraternity. My fraternity was a moment in which I learned about myself and the brotherhood. It taught me little about real life a lot about the real me.

Please note All comments are eligible for publication in The Daily Pennsylvanian.