And in all of that, among all of the people and groups I’ve pushed away, I’ve learned quite a bit about what’s wrong with the way we are operating as a social movement at present. I’ve also realized why my challenging stance is, at times not a good use of my energy when looking at the bigger picture. On a meta level, we are trying to build a social movement based on a ‘no, but’ process instead of a ‘yes, and’ philosophy. And if we really want our vision of a better world and a bigger and faster movement to become a reality, a major but relatively simple paradigm shift must take place.

The ‘no, but’ is when we get into conversation with people or groups and instead of embracing our different ideas, thoughts and feelings, we shut out what makes us feel uncomfortable, what challenges the existing structure of how things are. But, the ‘no, but’ cripples growth towards our collective goals. And it leaves those who invoke the ‘no, but’ with a false sense of control over the direction of things.

Gravitating towards this approach is natural for Americans. We are part of a civilization that prides itself on competition at all levels. We compete from very early ages, trying to win games against our peers on the playground, in the classroom trying to be the best we can be, in the workforce, in our social circles trying to look our best, competing with each other literally everywhere we go. We have built a society based on plutocratic values. We feel survial is dependent on being better than the rest.

It is natural then that we take this ‘no, but’ approach right into our organizing work. We build our social movement groups and efforts out of this foundation. Yet, over and over we become exhausted, frustrated, defeated because we don’t understand why we can’t get larger numbers of people out to our actions, to join our organizations, to help speed up this process towards our big goals. So, we placate ourselves saying things like, ‘These things just take time.’ or ‘We need to be patient.’ or worst yet, ‘It’s not realistic to think things can change quickly. They never do.’ We justify using these delusions and self defeating statements because it’s been a long time since a lot has changed in our movement really fast.

But, if we tell ourselves the opposite, that there has to be a faster way to build our movement and see our visions become a reality, we can then start to open ourselves up to the energy that will start leading us towards just that. If we come into collaborative planning spaces and build our actions and organizations around a ‘yes, and’ philosophy, there is hope.

‘Yes, and’ simply means, staying open to all feelings, voices and thoughts. It’s a way to counteract the competitive nature that has led to such extreme compartmentalization in our society. We yearn to be free, but without moving from the ‘yes, and’ approach, we only have the ability to affect change on a small, individual scale. If we truly yearn for liberation we must “hold the truth of different ways, perspectives, and mind states at once, where there is a complete acceptance of the way things are that also holds a prophetic vision of how things could be” (Framing Deep Change – pg 8). And within that, we must put aside the competitive nature that is part of what oppresses social movement growth and embrace our smallness in our epic fight.

So,’no but’ is manifested when someone says or does something counter to our way of knowing the world and we say something like, ‘No, we can’t do that because that’s going to alienate our supporters.’ or ‘But, that would be a bad idea because our members are not interested in civil disobedience. It doesn’t work.’ And ‘yes, and’ does the exact opposite. When someone says something that makes us feel uncomfortable, or is counter to the way we see the world, we have the opportunity to validate their beliefs and build upon them. When someone throws their ideas into the mix, regardless of how we feel about them, we can collaborate with them. We can say, ‘yes, that is true to you and if we add my truth to that we can find a place where both of our truths can thrive.’

A real world application of building our movement through a collaborative process would be the use of structured brainstorming anytime you sit down with a group to create an action. If your group decides together on its goal, then brainstorms out many ideas of what actions could be taken to meet its goal, the group can together narrow down their wide cast net of ideas to the one(s) that will lead to the action that the group feels best works towards the group’s defined goal. Brainstorming can be used to establish the group’s goal as well, or any part of the organization.*

Whereas competition separates us, collaborative exercises that validate everyone’s feelings and thoughts bring us together. And in that assembling of multiple perspectives, we can together narrow down our ideas to something in which all in our groups can claim some ownership. And with more commitment to the action at hand, more people will do more to shape our world. And in the process of shaping, we will build stronger, more meaningful and longer lasting bonds with each other and naturally find ways in which we internalize what it means to have our destiny tied the whole of humanity. Isn’t that really the ultimate goal?

In my journey so far, as a person who now understands the importance of being an active member in our community working towards the big goal of full civil rights, I have recently come to a place where I no longer feel the anger I once did at those who would shut out my dissenting voice. I see now how my many outbursts of the past have come, in part from my own competitive breeding. Though I’m sure I’ll fly off the handle again, I can say today, I am practicing what I believe to be true. I am moving from the ‘yes and’ state of being.

And moving forward, I keep my heart and eyes open for others who want to collaboratively build this movement. Every new intersection with such a person is a great gift. Now, this is where selfishness is a good thing. As Ms. Spears sings, “Gimme, gimmie more.”

Thanks for reading.

Alan L. Bounville

*A word about brainstorming: In the initial round, every idea is written down. Consider giving your group a time limit, say five minutes where everyone is empowered to throw out anything that meets the criteria of the brainstorming exercise. Then, when the timekeeper calls time, review the list as a group and find what works best for your group to narrow the list down. Make sure your brainstorming is always focussed on the goal at hand. The goal drives everything, which isn’t to say that the goal won’t reshape over time. When we know better, we do better and our goals can easily evolve under new understanding and circumstances.

Since November, 2008, the month some in my family politically turned their back on me and voted against queer rights in Florida (Amendment 2 – you know, Florida’s version of Prop 8), or said they supported equality yet stood silent while that vote took place, I have been conflicted. I have been bewildered. I have learned over the past two years that such a simple act as my loved ones walking into a voting booth and checking a box to curtail civil rights CAN and DID have a massive impact on me and on our fight. I realized many in my family were not who I thought them to be. And the more time that passes that they don’t make steps to be better people, the bigger deal their vote or silence becomes.

So now, I don’t speak to many in my family. We don’t have a foundation on which to base a relationship. Those who voted against my rights are the same as those bigoted leaders throughout history we all demonize. The Anita Bryant’s or the Maggie Gallagher’s or the Brian Brown’s of the past and present – that’s how I must view my family who voted against me if I am to fight oppression the same wherever I see it. And for those who stood by silent – well, as Desmond Tutu said, “If an elephant has its foot on the tail of a mouse and you say that you are neutral, the mouse will not appreciate your neutrality.”

The Loss of Family – That’s the Cost

Oppression against queer people is unique in that our families will often go to great lengths to keep the oppression we face away from their homes – they will ignore the pleas of their daughters and sons, their nieces and nephews, their grandchildren, and so forth – they will downplay the severity of the situation – they will remove themselves from any culpability, any connection between their simple vote against our rights, or silence and the inevitable fall out – more hate inflicted on our community. And for what? To maintain their status quo at the detriment to those they have known since birth.

And so, our families who shut us out pretend to live in a world where their action is not tied into the worst that is inflicted upon us, the ‘lesser’ in society they helped to shape from birth. This is always the case, yet we, the queer people who don’t have families where the whole unit also experiences the pangs of growing up queer in this land, have to move towards what can often be an isolated and lonely form of self-reliance. And we are forced to do what I am doing now, build our own families. As a matter of survival, we must.

It was within months of Amendment 2 passing in Florida that a more rapid public display of hate crimes against queer people started showing up in Orlando, the area where much of my family lives. Tires slashed on more than two dozen cars in the parking lot of Revolution, one of the queer bars I went to often during the latter part of the 20 years I lived in Florida. Anti-LGBT rhetoric wrote on an employee white board by TSA employees at an Orlando Airport. A transgender woman denied a job at McDonalds nonetheless! And for me, the most impacting, anti-LGBT hate speech spray pained on the outside of the LGBT center – a place that I found to be a home away from home long before Amendment 2 and still, figuratively to this day.

I remember going into The LGBT Center in Orlando (The Center for short) when I was going through a coming-out depression and talking to a counselor there for free – because I didn’t have insurance at the time and didn’t feel comfortable talking to anyone who wasn’t queer. I remember getting my HIV tests there at times when I didn’t have health insurance as well. I remember going there for events and meeting new friends. I remember going there for their codependents anonymous meetings – a group that helped me stiffen my backbone and finally give myself the courage I needed to sell almost everything I owned, give away most of the rest, drain my miniscule 4013b savings and move away from Orlando to New York City so I could go back to school to study theatre for social change and learn first hand about direct action and civil disobedience from many engaged queer and allied activists who also make New York City home.

And – I remember what it felt like to use my first theatre for social change play, CHAINED TO FREEDOM, earlier this year (that I co-wrote with a dear friend, Russell Taylor) to do my small part to raise a few dollars for The Center. I remember what it felt like to sit and talk with the audience for over an hour after that performance – share with each other through tear filled eyes conversation about the energy that is unleashed when we permit ourselves to say: “I AM. SOMEBODY. AND I DESERVE. FULL EQUALITY. RIGHT HERE. RIGHT NOW. I DESERVE. FULL EQUALITY!”

My Holiday Wish

And though, this holiday season I hold to my pledge I took two years ago: to build family-style relationships with people who are willing to move through our differences, I have to say, it’s tough. Half of my family is not ready to either come to terms with how, as time goes on their unwillingness to move from bigot to ally becomes a bigger issue – not a smaller one. And those who are silent in my family, don’t get it that their silence is the worst of all.

So, if there is a holiday wish I would ask for from a mythical creature this year, it would be for those I’ve known since birth, or have acquired through marriage along the way to begin to turn the corner and at very least agree never – ever again to vote against LGBTQ rights or if they already support us, to speak up when they see injustice against our people. Then, maybe we can start to build a relationship on equal ground. I may never get this holiday wish. But a boy can dream.

Why Else Does this Matter Now?

Because it is possible in Florida another discriminatory amendment may be added to the ballot in 2012 – a public referendum that, if passed, would reinstate the state’s nauseating ‘gay adoption ban’ – a law that, after 33 years in effect, was recently struck down as unconstitutional.

Unlike 2008, where I waited until a week before the election to reach out to family and urge them to vote against Amendment 2, this time, as soon as I learned of this news, I sent a bold warning sign to all in my family. I threatened them in an open email that if they so much as sign the petition to get this gay adoption ban reversal on the ballot – or worse, vote to reinstitute the ban, or if they, who say they are in support of LGBTQ rights are not a vocal ally taking their own action against this proposed discrimination -

- if they don’t do as I ask and steer clear of this potential amendment vote – I will make their lives a living hell.

I threatened them in the only way I know has the potential to work at this point – with direct action and civil disobedience. And I know that makes me look crazy to them. But since they won’t talk with me, I have no choice.

I threatened to chain myself to my parent’s church alter. I threatened to break into my cousin, a schoolteacher’s school and chain myself to her desk in her third grade classroom. I threatened to bring a bullhorn to my family’s neighborhoods in the middle of the night and make sure all their neighbors know that ‘bigots live here.’ I threatened to break into my step-father’s office and chain myself to his desk (which would actually accomplish two things – it would pressure him to not fuck with our equality anymore, sure, but it would also be his coming-out to all his co-workers that he has a gay step-son, something I have reason to believe he’s never made public).

And I have threatened to keep taking non-violent direct action towards my family, knowing I could end up in jail for more than a night at a time this time. I have threatened to not fast – but engage in an all out hunger strike once incarcerated.

And as sensational as all that sounds – I don’t want to do any of it. I would much rather those in my family see the potential for another anti-LGBT laws on the books in Florida in the same horrific light that I see it.

Tumbling Towards a Proactive Fight

So, fighting this way – reacting to more potential harm to our people – instead of acting on the offense – can be exhausting. But, to prevent more queer people from being hurt in my former home state, I’ll do what it takes.

However, this fall I turned a very important corner as a fighter for queer rights. I started partaking in action that is part of a proactive fight – the fight for full civil rights for our people. When a group of us in New York City and across the nation started taking action to pressure our elected officials to introduce a bill that adds “sexual orientation and gender identity” to the 1964 Civil Rights Act, our community laughed at us. ‘We’re fighting Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell repeal and for ENDA right now.’ Many of them ignored us. Many of them told us it’s not the right time. And some were heinous enough as to try and dissuade people from working with us, saying vile things on blogs and in public activist meetings, discrediting our sacrifice.

What is wrong with fighting for full civil rights? I’ve gone to jail for DADT repeal in Washington DC and for ENDA in The Castro. When is the right time for a full civil rights fight?

And since starting the sustained action efforts for getting us in the Civil Rights Act, I’ve been challenged by activists like Audrey Smith to dream bigger – why can’t we fight for a Federal Constitutional Amendment?

What Is Impossible? And Now – How Do We Make the Impossible POSSIBLE?

Right now, I’ve decided to give my time and efforts to a group of visionaries who are asking those very questions – and not just asking – but finding answers through their action. Connecting Rainbows: Civil Rights Walks for America is to me, the only opportunity where people can gather virtually in our community and start sharing without any organizational curtailing of speech or action – where people can set up profiles, much like Facebook, upload action plans on event pages that relate to a full civil rights agenda and connect with others across the nation who are of like mind.

To conclude, here I am, just one out of work grad student, vacillating between a reactive strategy against my own family and a new, proactive approach to a full civil rights fight. The former drains me while the latter makes me feel like I’m not only in control of the movement, but gaining so much more spiritually by dreaming big. It’s exciting! It’s electric! It’s something no one can take from me.

And so, as much as my family would show they love me by stoping their crusade against my equality, duly helping curtail hate against us, and also allowing me to spend more of my time in the euphoric proactive movement state, I now am fully aware of what it means to sing, ‘We shall overcome – someday.’ To me, it means my fight is not on anyone else’s timetable. It’s not before the end of the year like we recently felt with DADT repeal. It’s an endless wave of action that I start – well, the day I decide it’s time to start. So, I’ll keep tumbling towards playing offense more often. It’s time everyone else plays defense to us!

Will you join me and fight for full civil rights now? Will you help create the people’s movement and over time force the lobbying groups and all others to fall in line with what the people want? We don’t want one piece of legislation at a time. We don’t want to burn out on reactive fights. We what to launch sustained direct action efforts that are founded on a full civil rights platform and don’t end until massive systems of oppression are cracked open and reshaped with us then written into such systems as equals.

And one step further as we move from here – what would it look like if we found a target – let’s say, a small business that is anti-LGBTQ in a small  town or a town/city full of haters – maybe the most oppressed place for queer people in the USA, and raise funds to launch a team into that community (of course being invited in first by local LGBTQ people) to start taking action against the leaders of that business, their human resources office, the government in that city that condones such discrimination, whatever, until that business crumbles to our demands? What if while we are doing this – and who knows how long it would take – it could be a week, a month a year or longer – what if we use that as one of our lunch counter moments to dramatize not just a small business’ discriminatory practices, but the bigger picture – the problem with us not being full and equal citizens in our own land.

What if we started raising funds for this purpose? Basic food and shelter costs – that’s all, for a group to take the risks we know are required to create the glacial shifts in both social thought and legislative action we need. If it is not a business we target with sustained action, maybe it’s a small-town or city government municipality that denies us equal access.

Because – I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to continue the incremental approach that will take decades more before my family will ‘get it.’ I want to speed this baby up! Let’s launch sustained, proactive actions now so that in a short time we can shift society to a place where not only are the masses and the laws on our side – but if someone were so much as to utter, ‘That’s so gay’ in a school – everyone would turn their head in shock, just like they would do now if people were to say, ‘That’s so black’ or ‘That’s so woman’ or ‘That’s so Asian’ in a way that would paint those groups as lesser-than.

Join me – see the dream – FEEL the dream – fight for the dream!

Thanks for listening.

Alan L. Bounville

Two weeks later when it happened again…

“Oh god, please forgive me my sins. I pray you come into my heart and be my personal lord and savior. I know I sinned by doing that dirty thing. I pray I never do it again.”

Almost ever day after that (sometimes more than once or twice a day for that matter) up until my late teen years…

“Oh god, please forgive me my sins. I pray you come into my heart and be my personal lord and savior. I know I sinned by doing that dirty thing. I pray I never do it again.”

Then, after coming out at age nineteen, the praying for forgiveness stopped – and I started to enjoy and openly act upon my sexual urges I’ve felt since as long as I can remember. But – the guilt didn’t just magically disappear. And I thought – ‘maybe there really is something wrong with feeling this way about guys.’ Over a long, long time I realized that there is nothing wrong with me.

And then I had bareback sex.

It wasn’t supposed to happen. I was drunk. He was drunk. He had such a full, plump ass I’m not sure if I was even inside it! That’s what I said to myself at the time to discount the potential danger in which I was putting us both. I did pull out – I think – well, mostly. I know that for sure.

That was at age 23, I think.

I did try and bareback a guy when I was a teenager, but I had no idea lubrication was almost always a must, so we didn’t get that far. So for experience sake, I count my drunken encounter as the first.

Only a few other times have I had bareback sex. In a long term relationship from time to time, another off and on again relationship – which hooked me to it and with just a few other people. Mostly I was the bottom, though I equally enjoy both positions. Where are all the vers guys out there??!! OH – that’s a post for another day.

And when it’s been good – IT’S BEEN GOOD! There is something vastly different about not using protection. Now, I know you can never really know what your partner is doing when you are not looking, well unless you are following them with GPS like the government is doing with the blessings of the courts – but I digress.

Bareback sex brings me to a different place. It is visceral. It is intimate. It opens the door to a deeper sense of living for me.

But, it can be a death sentence.

The past week I’ve mostly been alone in some of this country’s most vast and desolate places. I haven’t engaged in any activism per se since leaving Madison, WI. I have stirred up shit on Facebook, but I don’t count that – it’s impact is meaningless to me unless it helps build in-the-streets movement.

As I’ve traveled west towards Seattle and then down the west coast to where I am today – in the home of an activist in San Francisco, I have spent time trying to justify this portion of the trip. I feel like I’ve been useless to ‘the movement’ of people fighting for LGBTQ rights – or the other struggles in which I need to start engaging if I want a planet to live on in the years to come.

I did have a very passionate conversation – well, I was passionate – and drunk – with a guy in Seattle at a party an activist there held. I challenged him I guess. He thought we needed a ‘leader’ in the LGBTQ fight, which launched me on a tirade for probably twenty minutes. ‘We are all leaders. We all have roles – but it is a horribly sad day and a gross contortion of the truth to think that until we have a person on the minds and lips of the populace when they think about our movement we will be unsuccessful. WE ALL NEED TO RISE UP! That’s when SOCIAL movement begins to flourish. And we need to put in the long and consistent hours in our fight – knowing that we will fail, we will lose, we shall overcome…someday.’

This man committed on the spot to come out of the closet at his job. I had no idea while talking with him he was closeted on the job! Had I know that I would have started there – but not knowing and confronting this notion of needs for ‘leaders’ did the trick, I guess. We’ll see if he follows through with his promise. I hope for us all he does – and with haste.

Further, I will say here we MUST build groups that meet weekly to plan actions if we ever want our equality – or anything. The more we stand on the sidelines, the more our opposition has the upper hand because they know all we will risk is a few hours in an occasional protest.

Things will never change unless we change them. Coming out of the closet is step one.

So, here I am, back in the groove meeting and working with activists again. I have very much missed this face to face interaction. NOTHING replaces it – NOTHING! No number of conference calls we have to plan multi-city actions, no private conversations with activists all over the place – NOTHING. Nothing replaces face to face work building actions to fight for OUR RIGHTS. Did I say nothing replaces regular face to face purposed interaction?

And during my time alone this week, I’ve come back to a burning desire I had a few months ago. When I return to New York City in a few weeks I will be preparing to jump off yet another activist cliff. And to do this, I know I must keep myself in good health. I need to be disease and medication free – well, at least that’s the ideal situation for what I am about to do. And as much as I want to continue feeling the magic I sometimes ache for that is created when having unprotected sex, I know that there is something greater that will keep me from doing that. There is someone I will be seeing I’d love to be raw with very soon, which is even more reason why bareback sex is on my mind – at 33 years-old I want to just say fuck it and do it with him. But, the next step I’m going to take as an activist and more important, as a human is not worth risking disease contraction at this time.

Because as much as I hate a lot of what our military does, it is not right that people can’t serve openly.

Because no one should get away with saying, “I want to fire that fucking queer” on the job (one of my stories).

Because the New York State Senate MUST vote on marriage equality early in 2011 and needs to commit to that now.

Because we need to build towards a mass movement where thousands or even millions of people need to actively, consistently get out to the streets and agitate and challenge and FIGHT so we can see full equality NOW – not decades from now.

For this, bareback sex can wait. For this, A LOT can wait.

I’m afraid of what happens next – that tells me it’s the right decision. And I hope in the way you can, you will join me.

Thanks for reading.

Alan L. Bounville

PS I wonder – is there a part of wanting marriage equality rooted in the desire for bareback sex in our ‘monogamous’ relationships? Have we completely let go of the desire for a sexually liberated society? Is there sexual liberation after HIV/AIDS?

So much led to that defining moment. I had just been dumped. I was living in a volatile situation with another guy – an ex boyfriend. I was upside down in two properties that were supposed to be part of my brighter future – part of the American Dream that got flushed when the market started crashing.

And in that moment, I had the thought. A question actually. I had been depressed before, but this time was the worst it had ever been. I asked myself, as I cried and ached on the tub bottom – Why live? I decided I could answer that question by doing one of two things.

Choice 1 – Kill myself.

Choice 2 – Find my way out of this.

I could see in that abysmal moment many of the circumstances that led to me being in that low place were similar to the past depressions. Like before, I followed other’s suggestions on how to live my life instead of just following my gut, I waited until my emotions were out of control before I started making my life better and I hoped for a better tomorrow even though I was stagnant in my present day.

As I picked myself up off the tub bottom…

I chose number 2.

I figured I’d give living a try for a while longer.

From that point forward I took similar repairative steps I had taken to dig myself out of the past depressions. 1. I started with therapy. 2. I got on some drugs to help me sleep (I was sleeping maybe two hours a night at this point). 3. I started the process of moving out, even though I knew my ex and I were (and still are) being held hostage by a strangulating real estate market.

But somewhere in me, I knew I had to  do more. The Get Out of Depression in Three Easy Steps process I used in the past would not alone stop this cycle. But I had no idea what to do next. I had thoughts of leaving Florida, where my properties are located. I had a desire to continue studying theatre.

What if I were to move to New York City? I used to say I wanted to do that. I’d love to travel the country too. I want to speak up more – for LGBT rights – for myself. I’m an event manager at a hospital – that is totally a compromise career. Back to theatre – I don’t want to just keep studying theatre that isn’t tied to something deeper. I would want to do theatre that really moves people to action of some kind.

So, broad desires led to more specific ones and in there I learned what I needed to do to really move to a place where I made Choice 2 much worth my while. I had to just trust my gut – against all the nay saying – against all those who try to shut me down. I just had to trust in where my heart wanted me to go.

The past couple weeks on this journey have been extremely fruitful. After leaving Cincinnati I traveled west to Milwaukee. There I visited a very close friend I knew in Orlando. He moved back to Milwaukee a couple months before I moved to New York City last year. I didn’t have any performances of CHAINED TO FREEDOM or civil disobedience trainings or other activist activities scheduled. I was passing through, seeing an old friend. I did however have a performance of the play scheduled for Madison, Wisconsin, but it wasn’t for a week from when I arrived in Milwaukee.

So, I had time to get caught up with a friend. As has become customary with others this summer, during my visit, he and I got to talking about activism, the LGBT movement, this crazy journey I’m on, etc. In that conversation I learned that he is not officially out to his parents. I strongly advocated for him to come out. He expressed that talking about dating life isn’t something customarily done in his family. I bluntly said none of that matters. We must all come out and continue coming out. Our outness is our biggest asset as a people who desperately need our equality. And our sexuality is a whole lot more than our dating life.

Maybe he will come out to his parents. Maybe not.

I had the privilege of meeting some wonderful new people in Milwaukee. As I shared with them what I’m doing this summer, it as well opened up all kinds of conversations. One person told me about the struggles of a friend of theirs, a transitioning transgender woman who lives in upstate Wisconsin. The person who shared this with me wants she and I to connect. I’ll be sure to do that.

As I waited for the performance in Madison, I thought, what else should I do while I wait?

Oh yeah! I should leave my car in Wisconsin and fly back to New York City to participate in the Sampson and Diaz Bigot Gala! and bus it down to Washington DC to be part of The Big Commit and the Homophobia Kills Die-In. Then, I should fly back to Milwaukee with a stow away, one Activist Extraordinaire, Iana DiBona.

Iana accompanied me for a final couple days in Milwaukee, through Madison (where another Activist Extraordinaire, Jude Stevens put together the great audience to see the play) and further west.

Side note – Jude is an amazing straight ally – a mom to all us LGBT folks out there fighting for a better tomorrow. Jude has an amazing story of what drives her in her activist work. I’ll let you friend Jude on Facebook and ask her questions yourself. Jude’s husband Jim is equally wonderful. Sitting with them watching Eddie Izzard and laughing my ass off, having a late-night chat with Jude and Iana that opened up Jude’s story as well as some deep thoughts and feelings from all of us about connections we have to the work we are doing, getting time to talk with some other local activists about civil disobedience and scheduling a time for me to come back to facilitate a training and perform CHAINED TO FREEDOM again – well, Jude wasn’t kidding me when the week before my arrival she told me on the phone that I was going to love Madison. Mom knows best.

Side note to the side note – Two local Madison activists Jessie Otradovec and Katka Showers-Curtis, Iana and myself decided, while in Madison, why not agitate? So, the four of us went down to one of the local Target stores and announced that Target was having a Bigot Special!

Past Madison, my stow away, Iana and I had an impromptu photo shoot in the ladies room at Ten Chimneys in Minnesota. One of the sisters working there totally caught Iana and me coming out of the ladies room and asked us point blank if we were just in there together and I said – ‘Hell yeah! It’s all dolled up in there. I couldn’t refuse the opportunity to pose in a powder room. Oh – and by the looks of the photos of Alfred Lunt in this place – you can’t tell me he wasn’t a screaming queen!’ Then, a quick stop to the SPAM Museum. Lord help me if I ever sit down and eat that crap! There was an older man there who pushed a SPAM sample on me – and it was on a pretzel stick. Why didn’t I lie and say I was a vegetarian? Why am I not yet REALLY a vegetarian? And then, through the corn and soybean fields of South Dakota. And then, through the corn and soybean fields of South Dakota. And then, through the corn and soybean fields of South Dakota.

And then, through the corn and soybean fields of South Dakota.

It’s a big state.

There were many more stops along the way where we saw some of the quirkier sides of South Dakota. Then, the Badlands. Then feeling so very small. Then the Black Hills and Mount Americana Masturbation Session Rushmore. Then the Native American’s justified big fuck you to America that dwarfs the heads of the four white men down the road – the amazing Crazy Horse Memorial and its moving tribute to all cultures – but mostly Native American cultures – that moved me to tears. I’d like to see Crazy Horse completed in our lifetime. You can help – donate to the project here. And then the Needles. And then bison. And then Wind Cave. And then, and then, and then.

Iana and I drove westward to Yellowstone National Park before she flew home yesterday from one of the smallest airports I’ve ever seen in West Yellowstone, MT.

It was great to play tourist for a bit. The first half of this trip has been almost non-stop work. And to spend some down time with Iana, someone I hold in the highest regard meant the world to me.

And now – I sit in the middle of  Gold West Country in Montana. The past couple nights have been below freezing and upwards of 90 degrees during the day. I found a cheap cabin up here in the middle of the seemingly countless mountains of this vast state. I need a couple days to regroup. To write. To synthesize the work I must complete for my thesis paper I am starting to write.

I travel this summer on student loans and the donations of old friends, new friends and strangers. I began trusting my gut two years ago and am now doing everything I have wanted to do for years. I am studying theatre again – but theatre that does more than entertain. I am traveling the country. I am based in New York City. I am a more complete version of me.

And though I get lonely on the road. And though school is costing me about $140,000. And though this Master’s I am working on right now is not the end of the education I need so I can be a theatre professor (one of the longer term goals). And though when I am a professor the salary I will make will in no way make it realistic for me to ever pay off my student loans. And though because of this I’ll be enslaved to the government forever – unless I become homeless and don’t have an income. And though the two properties in Florida are going to force me to declare bankruptcy.

I have never been a happier person. I have never felt more complete. I have never been more hopeful.

I finish this post rocking in a chair in the lodge by my cabin listening to Sound of Silence. And for so many reasons I want to cry. And I almost do.

Next – Seattle, San Francisco, Los Angeles, San Diego, Arizona, Texas and as it turns out, now back to Ohio. I want to go home and I want to stay on the road forever.

Thanks for reading.

Alan L. Bounville

During that school year I attended a movie night at the LGBT center in Tallahassee, The Family Tree. The center was housed, well in a house. It was a quaint, comfortable location where I could finally be part of a community of people similar to myself.

A handful of us gathered there to watch Fried Green Tomatoes. It was one of the first pseudo gay/living in the closet themed films I ever watched. It was a delight. After the film ended I got to talking with an older gay man who had been sitting to my left during the film. He shared with me that he had lived in and out of the closet most of his life. He would go back in the closet when he felt being ‘out’ would jeopardize his career, family relations, etc. I remember thinking at the time, ‘That will never be me! Now that I’m out, there’s no going back in!’

Flash forward to the present and I can’t count the number of times I’ve gone back in the closet, for many of the same reasons as the older gentleman at the movie night.

Then, it was this past year as I kissed goodbye – on the lips – a guy I was seeing in my home city of New York that I realized – every day contains an incalculable number of interactions with people where I am in the closet. I felt a sense of fear and insecurity that day as I gave this guy a quick peck in the perceived center of the gayverse! I realized then that I tend to ‘pass’ as a straight man walking down the street, when making purchases at stores and such and most everywhere I go. As queeny as I can be with friends, walking the planet most of the time I’m constantly in the closet.

During this summer, as I have been traveling to areas both densely populated and quite remote I have been increasingly in tune with my negotiations with this closet. Last week, when I pulled into Cowans Gap State Park in rural Pennsylvania late at night I caught myself ‘straightening up’ when talking with one of the park rangers who just happened to be passing by the deserted main office area where after dark check-in took place. In that moment I became hyper aware of the deepening of my vocal tone, the straightening of my posture and my overall awareness of my desire to play it straight in a dark, rural area where cell phone service was sparse at best.

The next day, while getting some very unhealthy food at the concession stand overlooking the beautiful lake at this park, I overheard the young woman serving me share a story to some of her coworkers about her and her friend Tara. At some point in the past, she and Tara were going to hang out and she said to some guy friends of theirs that she will ‘be with Tara tonight.’ The guys teased her and Tara assuming that meant they were going to be together sexually – that the two of them were lesbians. The concession stand employee went on to explain how she felt embarrassed by the teasing, yet cool with her sexuality.

In that moment, as I stand there alone, I thought:

1. I could talk with this young woman about her discomfort as I awaited my morning pizza and coffee (the cuisine selections at the PA state parks is severely limited) or

2. I could stay silent out of:

a. fear for any retaliation from her or the young men to whom she was speaking or

b. a desire to collect stories like these where I am merely an observer and later use these anecdotal recounts in writings such as this one.

Reality check – I was afraid, because I was alone, to address her comments and ask a question like, ‘Why would the guy’s teasing comments make you feel a sense of embarrassment to begin with?’

In rural PA, I lived in the closet so I could share a non-verifiable observation with you.

It was interesting for me to stay closeted that day – closeted as a gay man and closeted as a man who very much wanted to challenge someone’s thinking. It was interesting because just the day before I left a transgender woman in Princeton, NJ. In Princeton I spent a wonderful few days performing CHAINED TO FREEDOM, facilitating a civil disobedience training and having hours upon hours of conversations with this woman, her roommate and members of her community about the challenges transgender people have every. fucking. day. (PS – the word transgender is not in my spell check.)

I went from extremely mind bending conversation with them about the very different kind of closets trans people ebb in and out of to a place where I chose, ‘for academic purposes’ to remain in the closet when confronted with a teachable moment – a moment when I could have said something – put myself at risk – but said something or asked a question that may have provoked real thought among a group of straight people about the reasons for their discomfort with their community members’ perceptions of their sexuality.

A few days after the PA encounter, as I stood in line for one of the mega roller coasters at Cedar Point in Ohio – the roller coaster capitol of the world – a park I’ve dreamed of visiting since early adulthood – I had another brush with unintentional intolerance. I overheard a teen boy behind me use the euphemism to a peer, ‘that’s gay.’ Again, I was confronted with a choice. Here I am, again – alone, halfway through a line for one of the biggest, baddest roller coasters in the world, Top Thrill Dragster and I hear this right behind me. I thought, if I say something to him, maybe it would cause him to think and maybe in the future if he heard homophobic slurs at school targeted towards classmates, maybe he’d be a leader and say something and maybe that would prevent a future gay bashing or murder – then I thought…

I’ve been in line for almost an hour. It’s hot. This is a great coaster. I can stay silent and write about this to share with others who think like me. I can stay silent so that the boy’s perceived dad behind him would not get in my face for questioning the boy’s use of the word ‘gay.’

I chocked it all up to research, convenience and safety.

I chocked it up to my chameleon like flexibility to stay in the closet.

How very sad.

Then, yesterday I went to the National Underground Railroad Freedom Center here in Cincinnati, Ohio. I am visiting here with a closeted gay male friend of mine. He is in the closet because he is afraid he won’t get promoted if he is ‘out’ at work. I can understand his fear because he has just spent the last year and a half on unemployment. This is the first job that has come along that pays – well, as much as unemployment paid, which is barely enough to survive – and I mean within dollars of a negative checking balance. But now he has his much needed health insurance he has gone without for so long and now he has some of his dignity restored as a needed worker, even though he stays silent about his sexuality. A promotion to the next level at his job would mean a lot – for the bare essentials. But if he is ‘out,’ chances are he will be bypassed on any opportunities for advancement.

(Side note – Why are we not all shutting down banks and Congress demanding real financial reform? How many of you reading this have been affected by the financial meltdown? Yet, we are just taking it up the ass – and not in the way we like – but that’s a whole other post for another day.)

Back to the Freedom Center…

There was this cool log and stucco building in the middle of the museum. I walked in it halfway through my visit. I looked around, wondered what type of building I was in, and then keyed in the audio tour number for this exhibit on my phone-like device they gave me upon entering the facility. I put the device up to my ear and learned that I was standing in an actual slave pen, a brutal holding building for African American slaves, like a railroad car for Jewish prisoners during World War II. I listened to the narrator explain that the second floor of the building in which I was standing was where male slaves where shackled while female slaves, often their wives, daughters, sisters, etc. below toiled away cooking and doing what they could to keep these men alive another day. This slave pen was just one of many slaves were imprisoned in along a domestic slave trading route in the US.

Immediately, I burst into tears. I was in the American equivalent to a transport vehicle to a concentration camp. I was in hell.

While at the Freedom Center, I learned that much of what was done to oppress African American slaves is being done today to oppress LGBT Americans. During both times we have allowed the populous to vote oppressive laws into existence, turned a blind eye to the stacking of legislative bodies with those who would seek to maintain a culture of oppression and rolled our eyes at those who selectively use religious texts to justify the despicable acts of an out of control public and private sector patriarchy.

How many African Americans lead governmental bodies or businesses? What percentage of the population is African American? Whose responsibility is it to see that government and businesses have representation at all levels equivalent to the make up of their communities? How many business leaders go out to schools and work with students so that the future workforce of America – at all levels represents the people communities comprise?

How many out of the closet LGBT people are in positions of leadership in government and industry?

How segregated in all ways are we today?

So, this week, I spent time ‘doing the good work’ in New Jersey. I happened upon some encounters where I chose not to stand up and educate. I spent time fulfilling a childhood dream riding the best coasters in the world. I took this time to relax, read the mountain of books I need to peruse for my thesis work that must be completed in the next couple months and I took a breath.

As I continue west to Milwaukee, fly back to New York City and bus it down to Washington DC for some activism and then fly back to Milwaukee to continue on to Madison, WI to perform the play, partake in a very cool art/activist fundraiser (more to come on that next time) and hopefully facilitate a civil disobedience training, I will consider taking a front seat if opportunities arise where I may partake in a teachable moment about LGBT issues or anything for that matter that agitates thinking about social justice, fear or privilege. And in doing so if I, alone on the frontier put myself in danger by questioning – I must ask myself – what good am I doing by staying silent? Slaves on the Underground Railroad, running to Canada for freedom risked far worse than I could ever risk as a gay man in this joke of a free nation.

How many breaths should I take before I scream?

And while I am warming myself at night in the west that awaits, I might be starting the fire with a burning copy of the US Constitution, just like William Lloyd Garrison did in his time as an abolitionist fighting for the expansion of freedoms for African Americans.

And maybe I’ll just say, fuck waiting for teachable moments. Maybe I’ll go to a place of danger for LGBT people and burn the Constitution there, for all to see.

Maybe my privilege will stop me short of that. How much further would LGBT people be if most of us had no choice but to run to freedom where anyone could see?

Thanks for reading.

Alan L. Bounville

http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=241568&id=105820462782158#!/album.php?aid=19286&id=105820462782158

After leaving Boston, spending time with Join the Impact Massachusetts I stopped through my first home area – Central MA. It was great to get caught up with my dad, step-mom, sisters, aunts, uncle and all the kids! Being with the side of my family that fully embraces and openly advocates for equality for me and my other family – my LGBT sisters and brothers, well it brought me to tears. I was able to share with them some of the video I use in CHAINED TO FREEDOM, which spurred on great conversation about the fight for equality that is now well underway.

Being with this part of my family gave me pause as well. It caused me to think deeply about the other side of my biological family – the side that voted against my equal rights in 2008. I have cut off communication with them as a form of protest. I let them know a while back that when they are ready to agree that LGBT people should enjoy full federal and social equality in this country then, and only then can we build upon a foundation that would define us as family.

This decision to ‘shut out’ a good portion of my biological family is something I think about daily. It’s not easy to keep such a vow of silence against people I’ve known my whole life.

The pause given to me while visiting my supportive family led me to where I am right now – evaluating my vow of silence. Is it the best tactic? It has given me a great deal of peace knowing that I am no longer impacted by their dissenting voices. But, if I am on the road towards full federal and social equality for my other family, is it time to find a place in my life for those on the wrong side of history? If I do as I did before they voted against my equal rights – live as an out and proud gay man in their company despite what they think – will that carry more power to encourage them to change their hearts and minds than holding to this ultimatum?

Sitting with my LGBT family here in New York City over this weekend and up until today has given me time to give these questions the time they need to ruminate. My heart is in the right place, but is my action helping the fight on this micro level? I hope to find answers in the weeks ahead.

On the subject of just being home – That about sums it up. I love New York City. I know the work I am doing as I continue to travel the country is very much needed in communities small and large, but I can’t help but feel at home here in this city. All those years growing up in Central MA and FL I knew in my gut a place like NYC would be where I would feel most alive. So, passing through here, getting a chance to attend a Queer Rising meeting, hosting a conference call with over thirty people from across the nation who are organizing for or interested in what is going to happen in Washington DC at the final National Organization for Marriage counter protest on August 15th, raiding the New York University library for materials and books needed to complete my Master’s thesis work on the use of autoethnography in performance (I known, you can snore away now) and spending quality time with so many amazing equality seeking LGBT people – my other family – makes leaving today for New Jersey another bittersweet departure.

But as sad as I am to leave my ‘home’ I am eager to hop in my car (my other home) and keep doing my part to grow this direct action movement for LGBT equality. I am excited to work with Allison Equality Wollbert and her community in Princeton today and tomorrow as I perform CHAINED TO FREEDOM and facilitate a civil disobedience training for them. And I’m excited to make some inroads with folks in Ohio after that before stirring things up in Wisconsin, Seattle, San Francisco, Arizona and wherever else I’m wanted.

And at every turn on the highway ahead, I’ll be reminding myself that We Are. Somebody. And We Deserve. Full Equality. Right Here. Right Now. We Deserve. Full Equality!

Thanks for reading.

Alan L. Bounville

Then, we took part in two awesome direct actions! First was the counter protest to the National Organization for Marriage (NOM) in Providence, RI. Here are some great photos and NOM’s own foolish lies about the impact we made while there:

NOM COUNTER PROTEST

After the NOM counter protest, Natasha and Vito left with other activists from our growing network to head back towards New York City. I ended up joining Join the Impact Massachusetts for their protest of a gospel singer, Donnie McClurkin who is a known homophobe and conversion therapy nutjob – on top of being a closet homosexual and ‘former gay’ himself – DISGUSTING! We educated concert participants outside the Boston City Hall, where the concert he was headlining was taking place.

And FYI – This weekend would not have even happened if it weren’t for the amazing organizing work of David Mailloux and all the Join the Impact Massachusetts members! Thanks as well goes to Don Gorton for hosting a fabulous party for all of us to cut loose! And thank yous also go out to my some of my best friends for years now who hosted me in Boston – Nick Bazo and Stephen Flowers. I love you boys with all my heart!

THIS is what we are creating folks – a national network of engaged LGBT and allied citizens. WE the people are coming together – and amazing results are coming to fruition. We are at the place where we CAN truly envision what a mass direct action movement will look like for queer equality. We are growing – the power is ours – and the time has surely come!

Thanks for reading.

Alan L. Bounville

Link to audio recording of CHAINED TO FREEDOM:

http://thehomohappyhour.podomatic.com/entry/2010-07-13T12_03_06-07_00

http://www.facebook.com/pages/The-YEEProject/130639660282064#!/album.php?aid=26796&id=130639660282064&ref=mf