There are all kinds of closeted gay folks in the world
today, but have you ever heard of a closeted straight man? Well, I have, and
his name is Timothy Kurek.
Timothy
grew up in the Deep South, with its rich traditions of church and family, and,
well, hatred of anything gay. Timothy was taught from an early age, at church
and at home, that being gay was an abomination before God. He called himself a
"soldier for God" and even attended rabidly religious, and therefore
rabidly homophobic, Liberty University.
But
then Timothy met another Christian, a girl, who told him how her family had disowned
her when she came out as gay, and he began questioning his church and their teachings.
He decided the only way to find out about being gay, was to be gay, and stick
his heterosexuality in the closet.
For
an entire year Timothy Kurek was gay, and living in his hometown of Nashville.
With the exception of two friends, and an aunt who was told the truth so she
could keep an eye on how his mother handled the news, Timothy began coming
out to everyone he knew. He told his family he was gay; he told all his friends
the same thing, too.
One
friend of his, Shawn, who happened to be gay, even pretended to be Timothy's boyfriend
for his Year Of Living Dangerously. Timothy took a job in a gay cafe, hung
out in a gay bar, and even joined a gay softball league.
And
the result of his year "out' has been documented in a new book called The Cross in the Closet; the similarities to other works
such as Black
Like Me, by a white man in the 1960s deep south passing as a black
American, and 2006's Self-Made Man, by Norah Vincent, who details her
time spent in disguise living as a man, were the impetus for Kurek to travel
this path.
To
walk a mile in a gay man's shoes, as it were.
Kurek's
account of his yearlong life as a gay man is an amazing ride, that took him
from being a "strait-laced yet questioning conservative, and ends up with
him reaffirming his faith" and becoming an advocate for equality.
It
was also an incredibly hard year for a young man who, like many actual gay men
and women, saw lifelong friends turn their backs on him because he was "gay".
Many of his Liberty University classmates wrote him emails after he came out
asking that he repent his sins and warning him of the damnation he faced for
being "homosexual". But, Timothy Kurek, also like many gay men and
women, does not regret the loss of those so-called "friends."
"I now have lots of new gay friends," he says.
Still,
it was quite an adjustment, for this straight man. One of his first forays into
the gay nightclub scene found him dragged onto the dance floor where a shirtless
man pretended to ride him like a horse and called him a "bucking
bronco".
"I
want to vomit. I need a cigarette. I feel like beating the hell out of
him," Kurek wrote of that night.
But
things got better; in order to avoid unwanted sexual passes from men, Kurek
asked his friend Shawn to act as his boyfriend and soon he was
part of the Nashville gay scene. He immersed himself in the gay culture scene;
he frequented gay bars, browsed gay bookstores, and he soon found these
so-called “gay” places to be as diverse and interesting as any other part of
American life. It was no different, except that it was gay.
He
even found, :::gasp::::, a group of gay Christians, who met up weekly in a bar,
discussing their belief in creationism. "I found gay Christians more
devout than me!" He admits today. Kurek also took on a role in a gay rights group
and found himself protesting outside the Vatican's embassy to the United
Nations in New York.
But,
again like all real gay men and women, Kurek was hit by the downside to coming
out. He began reading entries in his mother’s journal—only those written after
his coming out”—and was shocked to find that she had written things like,
"I'd rather have found out from a doctor that I had terminal cancer than I
have a gay son."
But
he wasn't deterred; he knew this was part of being “gay’, and that all gay men
and women—like his friend’s—had dealt with their own family’s reactions to
their child being gay. He kept up his charade, and living life as an open and
honest gay man and soon
his mother came to understand him, to accept him. "My mom went from
being a very conservative Christian to being an ally to the gay community. I am
very proud of her."
Minds,
and hearts, can change.
Sometimes;
Kurek, while at Liberty, recalls the time he called a group of gay men protesting
the university 'fags' and he soon found himself called that same
name. During a softball practice session in Nashville, a man walking his
dogs called Kurek and his team-mates "faggots".
"When
I was first called that for real, I lost it. I saw red. I felt so violated by
that word."
At
the end of his year, Kurek came out again, this
time as the straight men he'd always been, and discovered that his Year Of
Living Gay had actually renewed his faith rather than undermine it. And he now
preaches what he practiced, saying that his experience should not
only show conservative Christians that gay people need equal rights and can be
devout too, but that it can also reveal another side of evangelicals to the gay
community.
"The
vast majority of conservative Christians are not hateful bigots at all. It is
just a vocal minority that gets noticed and attracts all the attention."
Now,
maybe they'll notice the LGBT community in a new light; a hopeful light. It
takes the gay community and the straight community, the irreligious and the
non-religious, to make change in this country, and Timothy Kurek is doing his part.
