Privilege, Shame, Blessings and Gratitude

“Over my nine and a half decades of life, I have concluded that counting our blessings is far better than recounting our problems. No matter our situation, showing gratitude for our privileges is a fast-acting and long-lasting spiritual prescription.”

-President Russell M. Nelson

Almost a couple of weeks ago, President Nelson of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints gave a world-wide, timely Thanksgiving message amid this COVID-19 pandemic, the divisive political and social climate and the economic, spiritual and emotional turmoil many are facing. 

I find it interesting how he specifically mentioned gratitude for our privileges. This brought me back to another time earlier this year...I can’t remember specifically, when gratitude brought me out of a negative spiral of negative thinking not only about myself, but the world around me and the pressures to feel shame about what I have and who I am (perhaps both being gay and being a dreaded white man). 

The call to be thankful and express gratitude for my blessings AND privileges, for me, stands in stark contrast to many discussions around privilege in social justice narratives. I refer back to critical race theory and other narratives like it. I had heard about what I now call “privilege talk” and long before (I did one of those privilege walks when I attended a certain conference for LGBT Latter-day Saints...and it wasn’t North Star). 

Critical Theory seems to be like the mothership of everything of that nature. 

If gratitude and the positivity and charity that comes with it are somehow inherent with critical theory and privilege talk, it’s completely lost on me. Privilege talk triggers many kinds of feelings of shame, self-loathing and overthinking...and the guilt and shame isn’t even genuine. It feels manufactured and like something I’m supposed to feel about where I am in life. I’ve heard critical theory described like a religion or a cult, except without the presence of a loving God from whom all blessings flow. For me it’s psychologically damaging and I thought, “Am I the only one feeling this? Is there something wrong with me?” Of course, as mentioned in a previous post, all of my hesitations and and troubles surrounding critical social justice can be summed up as my “white fragility” and a denial of my own internalized racial superiority. 

Additionally, isn’t it commonly said that comparison is the thief of joy? While maybe not on the same scale as race, I think of what it would be like if I constantly blamed straight people for all of my problems and what I don’t have and continually asked them to “check their straight privilege.” I just don’t think it’s helpful for conversation and I feel like it sidesteps our common humanity, shared interests, and shared struggles. But then again, others might tell me that I “benefit from straight privilege” because of my beliefs. Heck...even if I were in a full-fledged same-sex relationship, I’d imagine that I’d need to take each situation as it comes and extend the grace that I hope to receive from others. In my experience, ministering and lifting others up is done one by one and on a case by case basis. 

I feel like so many branches of identity politics operate from a place of shame and “shoulding.” Even when people say “it’s not about guilt or hating yourself,” the very language of placing people on a hierarchy of privilege and/or oppression just doesn’t feel right and authentic. 

Gratitude for what I have, who I am, where I live...seems to carry a much better energy and place from which to operate. This past Thanksgiving, when I would have been running a 5k were it not for COVID, I instead went up to Bountiful Boulevard in 30-degree weather and went for a 3-mile walk. I love the change from summer to fall to winter, with all the holidays, time to reflect and be thankful, time to be with family and play games and eat lots (working on that when it comes to the rest of the year). I love the chilling weather especially when I know I’ll be in a warm home again sipping hot chocolate and later enjoying a Thanksgiving feast with my family. 

Gratitude helps me to have a better self-image. It helps me take better care of myself and take care of the stewardships God had entrusted me with. It helps me remember that I am loved and that I matter. 

Upon expressing some of my thoughts and feelings about “privilege talk,” some of my social media friends commented and they seem to have drastically different feelings. Some people are able to hold to their self-worth and self-love while simultaneously engaging in privilege talk. More power to them. 

Instead of insisting that everyone “check their privilege” and get on-board with critical race theory and “anti-racism,” why not accept that it’s not going to ring true for everyone and it’s not going to get everyone to act out of their own goodness and genuine care for others? 

Helen Pluckrose, a liberal cultural writer and co-author of the book, Cynical Theories, said, “Employers must defend their employees’ freedom of belief and make their policies against racism accommodating of the full range of ideological and philosophical views from which one can oppose racism.” 

In one of her interviews hosted by Dr. Karlyn Borysenko, another liberal thinker, Helen specifically mentioned the belief that we are all children of God was definitely a valid perspective to come from. And this is one which I believe the Church and many other denominations try to operate from. This is what I understand “colorblindness” to mean. It’s a goal. It means that you try to dissociate assumptions about someone based on their skin color (Martin Luther King Jr. comes to mind). Some see “colorblindness” as denial or the “new racism” (heck..if the definition of racism keeps changing, we’re never going to get anywhere...and I believe that’s part of the madness of critical theories), but I do not believe “colorblindness” eliminates the existence of racial bias. I believe bias to be very individualized and sometimes a very personal journey. And even when people say they’re “not racist,” or “don’t have prejudice,” I don’t believe, and I don’t believe that they believe, that they have no bias. It’s part of being a human. I don’t think I’m “educating” anyone on this. 

I always say that if there’s unconscious bias, then perhaps there is also unconscious correction and adjustment. I’ve seen it in my life. And sometimes I feel like talking about it too much can make a bigger deal out of it than it needs to be, not to mention the self-judgment that can come as well. 

I also don’t believe “colorblindness” denies the existence of economic disparity. Generational wealth and poverty are realities, but is it responsible to chalk it up to racism? Furthermore, the racism of “all white people?” I don’t think so. I think there are some harmful narratives that get perpetuated that can be harmful for many people. There could be a variety of reasons things are they way they are (even if they did originate in times of state-sanctioned racism), just as there are a variety of possible solutions to these kinds of problems. As part of that, many Latter-day Saints contribute a portion of their income to the Church and more offerings for numerous welfare and humanitarian efforts. Whether that’s considered “using my privilege” or not, hopefully it goes far. 

Anyway, it was a refreshing wake-up call to hear the prophet and the president of the Church urge us to express and lean into gratitude for our blessings and privileges. It knocked me out of the ever so enticing messages of the world that I should be ashamed of myself and all that I have. I definitely have experienced and seen how gratitude can act as a spiritual healing power in many ways. 

Rants of a "Politically Incorrect" LGBT Person - Part 3

 Critical Social Justice Theory...finally a term that encompasses so many of the "off" feelings I've had surrounding discussions on diversity, race, LGBT issues, gender, etc. for quite a long time.  I didn't have a term for it before.  But I suppose it falls in line with the "off" feeling I had about "social justice warriors."  I didn't feel like I could ever talk about it, especially at work.  But this crazy 2020 year, finding other like-minded folks from a variety of demographics, and with President Trump banning critical race theory training from the federal government, I've finally found some more confidence to "come out" and "be myself."

#WalkAway

I've already raved about Dave Rubin in other posts and his work in "leaving the Left."  But I've found many other similar voices, like Brandon Straka of the Walk Away Movement.  Now, I'm not going to say that I agree with him on everything, but that's actually part of my point.  He's a gay man who saw how the Left seemed to like to put people in boxes, get people to vote for them...and then do nothing for them.  His movement is, in essence, a "Walk Away" from the Democratic party.  However, I'll add that this doesn't mean joining the Republican party, or even necessarily leaving the Democratic party.  But it describes people waking up from patterns or policies they were living under that they realized were not helping.  

In this post, I only have enough room to cover some of my own perspectives, but there's a #WalkAway YouTube channel which features several voices from a variety of demographics.  From there, I've found other voices like Karlyn Borysenko (a liberal Trump voter this year), Lauren Chen, Ben Shapiro (Yes...I too thought he was Satan until I actually listened to him...he's also been a target of white supremacists as he is Jewish), James Lindsay, Helen Pluckrose, Benjamin Boyce, Brett Weinstein and Heather Heying and many more.  And many of them still do identify as liberal.  All this to say that much of what I see in the Democrat party, or more succinctly, the Left, is no longer liberal.  It's illiberal.

Gay Stuff

I've mentioned before that I've always struggled with Pride and with much of the vocal LGBT community.  I didn't feel represented.  I felt like my beliefs and feelings (even if I didn't know how to describe them) fell out of line with so many political leanings that often accompany the gay community.  This is sad because it was always supposed to be about inclusion...and I never really felt included.  While I had started to create my own sense of "pride" anyway, when I first saw a Trump-themed Pride shirt, I thought, "Whoa...this is what I've been waiting for! I can don something like this!"  (I never thought I'd support Trump...but I'll get to that later).  I had struggled with Pride and I had struggled with Trump's campaign, but combining the two???  Um...yeah for some reason that resonates more with me.  I got a Pride-themed "Make America Great Again" face mask.  It's too tight and I can't breathe in it, but hey.  I have it (and I wear masks in appropriate places...don't assume you know my positions on COVID-19!  Unless you actually do...of course...).

I've found other conservative gay voices, mostly on Instagram (currently deactivated from the hell-hole of Facebook).  For me it's like a breath of fresh air.  Even if we disagree on some things, have different perspectives, or some are more into the hyper-sexualized culture than others...I feel safer among those voices.  I feel like we can actually have conversations.  I still have some conflicts...and faith conflicts...about gay marriage.  It feels as though the world...including many conservatives and many voices in the Church...have moved on from it while I have some lingering questions.  But I feel like many of these people (gay conservatives) would understand where I come from and would embrace me and the differences we have while we unanimously slam identity politics.  They wouldn't call me "self-hating," "homophobic" or whatever for holding the views that I do.  Guy Benson, a gay conservative, supported gay marriage, but also said that he wouldn't shame people who didn't...he explicitly mentioned other gay people too!  It was so refreshing when a fellow gay conservative commented in jest: "How dare gay people have different perspectives on stuff?" Brandon Straka, mentioned above, gave a spiel about his empathy for STRAIGHT MEN.  Straight, white men who seem to bear the brunt of everything related to critical social justice theory.  THANK YOU!

Critical Social Justice Theory

I can't possibly cover everything about Critical Social Justice Theory, but some helpful info on understanding it is located here: New Discourses

Words can't describe the relief that flowed through me when President Trump eliminated further Critical Race Theory (CRT) training in federal government agencies.  This is thanks to the work of Chris Rufo and others.  Some see this as Trump trying to maintain white supremacy and racism within the federal government.  If you sincerely believe in and abide by CRT, yes that would be true.  But the thing is, people have different opinions, experiences, locations, and views of the world.  CRT seems to pigeonhole everyone into a box in a hierarchical manner.  It's a game of Oppression Olympics.  It's something that has been brewing for quite some time now and it hasn't gone unnoticed by me, and it came close to being a standard training in my employing agency.  The kicker for the ban (among others) was diversity training that took place at Sandia National Labs.  Look it up.  It's awful.

I tried to write down everything that I feel is wrong about CRT, but it ended up being several long paragraphs.  In addition to James Lindsay's "New Discourses" above, I'll refer you to the following (non-exhaustive):

Karlyn Borysenko & Helen Pluckrose - White Fragility

Brett Weinstein and Heather Heying (husband & wife) - Kafka Traps, White Fragility & BLM (these are left-leaning folks, but still got booed out of their occupations by a very vocal minority at Evergreen College)

Benjamin Boyce and Desi-Rae - Breaking Through Black and White Thinking

Douglas Murray/Triggernometry

...and there are so many more voices from a variety of demographics.

Yes, I am thoroughly aware that according to CRT and the White Fragility narrative, everything I have to express is evidence of my own "white fragility," my racism, my internalized racial superiority.  I understand enough to know that.  But I think it's a bunch of bull-shoot.  I'm serious, Robin Di'Angelo (author of the book, White Fragility) has a pre-packaged answer for any reaction, any dissent, or any feeling that I have in response to these kinds of things.  I've read and learned enough to understand where this framework is coming from.  But the catch is that if you disagree with it, you're racist.  Actually, all white people are racist.  White supremacy is the status quo.  It's only possible for white people to be racist.  If you don't join in the "anti-racist" cult and do "the work," you're considered complicit in the system.  Even if you're black or brown and don't buy into CRT, you're also complicit in the system of “whiteness.”  There are so many other rules and doctrines, and like I said...I can't begin to describe them all (see New Discourses).

I could make a list of what Critical Social Justice is not, but that would be long too.  But consider certain liberal principles like individualism, listening to each other and having conversations, actually learning from different people and learning from differing perspectives, taking a person’s character over their skin color...things that Martin Luther King probably would stand for...those are not Critical Social Justice Theory.  Equality of opportunity, team-building, racial sensitivity training...those are not Critical Social Justice Theory.  I can get behind unconscious bias training...although that can sometimes give way to categorical, hierarchical wokeness.

There are other arms of this theory as well: queer theory, women’s studies, fat studies, whiteness studies (of course there’s nothing positive about whiteness studies), and you guessed it, straight white men are at the top of every system of oppression. It’s just assumed that if you aren’t oppressed enough, you don’t have enough “diversity” to say anything. Oh but you must listen. And you must do as we say (I can say "we" because I'm gay, right?). Even if it’s true that historically, white men have had power, we’re still human beings of the present day. 

If you’re obsessive as I am, this can turn into a mentally harmful situation if you take it literally (and I think it can be harmful in different ways for different demographics).  I talk to my therapist about this stuff.  My goal is not to come to better terms with my "white fragility," "white privilege," "white discomfort."  I simply don't believe I even need to submit to these ideas and doctrines in order to be a positive contributor to society.  We also talk about how the suicide rate for middle-aged white males is among the highest.  Hmmm...there's always a lot that goes into mental health, but I'm sure critical social justice doesn't help.  I thought mental health, self love, self care were all liberal principles.  Not for men, I guess.  Or white people.  And if I'm expected to come back to the destructive land of critical social justice after caring for myself...why even try???

I also believe that several tenets of critical social justice etch out several of the principles that our country was founded upon (but of course...those principles are seen as racist).  This is an illustration of the role religion can play in society...and what it looks like without it.  The Christian (and other similar belief systems) values of forgiveness, individuality, a belief in a Higher Power that can atone for challenges, inequities and unfairness in this life...are not present in critical social justice.  It's a way of relying on other humans making up for whatever one doesn't have (not that we don't help each other...but it needs to be in a liberal fashion and with a sense of self-worth).

I can't illustrate all the things I find problematic (like how my expression of all this is merely because my privilege is being questioned), but this is something that has been eating at me even before George Floyd and the riots.  They're concerns that extend back even to when I began coming to terms with my sexuality.

Donald J. Trump

Critical social justice and the events of 2020 have pushed me over the edge toward voting for Donald Trump.  Even before he took office I was concerned about what was going on on the Left.  I can't categorize myself as ever being a "never-Trumper."  I resonated with how a lot of people felt about him.  I was against him in some fashion, but I don't recall feeling panicked or worried.  Several people I know tried to raise an alarm.  I just didn't feel it though.  To be honest I felt kind of relieved that the pendulum started swinging back from the Left.

One of my first eye-openers was when I was led to believe that Hillary Clinton would win by a landslide.  She didn't.  I know there's a whole thing about popular vote vs the electoral college.  I was just as surprised as anyone.  For some, this was a message that America is more racist, sexist, homophobic and xenophobic than anyone had imagined.  I wasn't there though, especially since I've come to know many gay people, women, people in racial minorities, immigrants...who voted for Trump or didn't vote for him in 2016 but now support him full-throttle.  I listened to what they had to say.  For a long time, I've relied on what "other people" would say about Trump.  I listened to his critics more often than I listened to his supporters.

For a while, I thought Trump said "fake news" for anything he didn't like.  That might still be true, but over the last year I've seen how the media has twisted things he's said and situations he's been in to be something that they're not.  He says and does stupid things sometimes.  But then the media sweeps in and makes it sound even more stupid.  A prominent example in my mind is when he rehearsed possible remedies for COVID-19 that were being tested and studied.  To me he sounded like someone who was just rambling because he wanted the last word...but he did NOT tell me to go and inject myself with Clorox or drink some other household cleaner.  There have been other times where I've had to listen to an entire speech in order to get beyond what the media would say.  

All that said, there are a variety of things I didn't know about the President.  I did not know that he doesn't take a salary.  He donates it to various programs that work to help people.  He did not need to be president.

I did not know that running for president had been on his radar for quite a while.  He didn't want to, but figured he'd step in if things got "bad enough."

I did not know that he had appointed an openly gay ambassador to Germany (and several other gay people in his administration now).  I did not know that Trump was involved in an effort to decriminalize homosexuality.  I did not know that much of the transgender situation with the military was due to medical needs and issues.  In reality, Trump is the first president to step in office in support of gay marriage.

There are several other things I did not know...good things that the Trump administration has done...because mainstream media did not cover it.  I kind of get the tactics of the media, though.  Negativity sells.  Positivity not as much.

I've heard from people who have had actual, in person interactions with the President.  I've watched press-conferences (not filtered through the media) and I've watched round tables the President has had with a variety of people.

There may be things I still don't know about Trump, both good and bad.  I understand the concerns people still have with him.  I do believe "Trump Derangement Syndrome" is a real thing.  But I understand people have legitimate concerns.  In 2016, I voted mostly based on character.  Nothing wrong with that; nothing wrong with that this year.  I really wasn't into politics, and I'm still learning.  This year I'm looking more at the actual platforms, and I understand some people use their vote to vote against something.  I suppose I have great reason for that this year.

Walking Away

So I'm walking away.  I'm walking away from the trap of Critical Social Justice and the belief that I "should" think or feel a particular way, especially based on my own sexuality or other immutable characteristics and those of others.  I'm pursuing freedom of thought.  I'm trying to walk away from the belief that I'm a horrible person if I don't buy into the madness.  I'm walking away and walking more toward my faith and my relationship with Divinity.  I'm walking away and walking more steadfastly toward the American patriotism that I knew when I was growing up.  Right now, I'm finding that among conservatives, classic liberals, Republicans, and with President Trump.

Unresolved: Musings of June 2020

I've had some interesting thoughts and feelings recently.  They're not really anything new, but they're starting to be express-able in words.

I have questions.  Don't we all?  The strange thing is that I'm not in a desperate place to know the answers.  There's an element of peace and also an element of feeling incomplete.  Yet I feel like I have what I need at this point it time.  But it's still awkward...

In light of recent events in the world, the media, coronavirus, accounts of racial injustice, I've found myself drifting towards various people offering "conservative" perspectives on various issues.  These people are racially diverse too.  I've learned a little about "classic liberalism," basically about a willingness to tolerate other people and their opinions as well as having decent conversations about what we actually agree and disagree about.  I've become a fan of Dave Rubin, a self-proclaimed "classical liberal" who has many interviews with people from the conservative end of things as well as from the middle to left of the political spectrum.  He's married to his husband, yet doesn't seem to be in lockstep with the LGBT political machine of the day.

This is what I sometimes have unresolved tensions on...that gay marriage seems to be a part of classical liberalism, a security of individual rights.  It makes sense.  I understand where Dave and others come from.  Yet sometimes I'm still baffled as to how I felt like I needed to support the traditional, orthodox view of marriage and family.  I still feel like I understand where the LDS Church and other good faith organizations and individuals are coming from when they favor the nuclear family unit.  It doesn't mean that everyone is going to have that, but even among those who don't (like a close confidant of mine who chose to have a child out of wedlock but has since been through the temple and is faithful to the gospel), it's still possible to see and understand the ideal. 

Even with that, I still cherish the idea of same-sex love wherever it is found.  Of course, I operate off the belief that my church has never told me that I can't love a man.  Rather, it's more about boundaries around sexual relations and the institution of marriage.  I appreciate it when shows such as Modern Family or Schitt's Creek depict how being gay, or being in a gay relationship can be integrated naturally into family life, mutual respect and being contributing members of society.  I also appreciate the show, Queer Eye, and how the "Fab 5" does good in the world and builds relationships among a wide variety of people...even among religious leaders who might teach an orthodox, traditional sexual ethic.

I appreciate it when it's just naturally put in as part of the story as opposed to what feels like "tokenism" to me.  It's hard to describe exactly what I like and don't like as far as gay depictions in the media (of course...I don't think many will take well to an openly gay celibate Christian portrayed, but I digress).  I struggle when it feels like intentionally putting in a gay couple or furthermore, portraying them as "good" and other straight people...especially those with conservative Christian backgrounds as "bad."  Let me allude to not one, but TWO movies I saw on the plane ride to and from our 2016 Tabernacle Choir tour in Central Europe.  They were Ricky and the Flash, and My Big Fat Greek Wedding II.  They were both decent movies in their own right, yet I found it ironic that both of the movies depicted a gay sibling who then found a partner by the closing scenes of the two movies.  I don't know...as I write this, I struggle to find a reason why I struggled with that, other than I struggled with it.  These were two movies that came out at the same time and it just felt like a "trend" rather than weaving it in naturally to the storyline.  But whatever, others might disagree. 

(Side note: I recently saw a post about how Disney needs to represent the LGBT community more and how two women kissing at the end of Star Wars: Rise of Skywalker wasn't enough.  I was like, um..."isn't Poe Dameron and his open collar enough for all the gay men out there????")

I've enjoyed following people like Dave Rubin.  He and his husband actually had the opportunity to meet President Donald Trump at some sort of important dinner (look at the video here).  Their experience is that he was warm and welcoming to them.  He stood up to shake their hands and mention that he didn't give a <swear> that they were gay and married and that no one's given a <swear> for decades...perhaps to make up for what much of the media has said about the Trump administration...that they're all bigoted and homophobic.  Even when it comes to Mike Pence, I think it would be interesting to sit down and have a conversation with him, because I don't know that I can trust everything the media says.

OK, back to Dave.  I understand that he and his husband are getting ready to welcome a baby into their family.  I like this.  I support them.  The thing is, I still believe in and can understand the Family Proclamation.  For me, I never wanted to be "against equality."  I could never quite articulate what the government should do as far as marriage legislation.  All I had was my own testimony and perspectives.  The thing I like about Dave is that I could probably have a decent discussion with him and come away not feeling like a horrible person, with him understanding that I (and probably many other religious conservative folks) am not coming from a place of "homophobia" or "bigotry."

So there's some ambiguity here, and I have to live with it.

OK, enough about Dave.  Let me complain a spell.

It's the middle of Pride Month.  I've written a few posts about how I feel about Pride and some of the conflicts it brings.  Something interesting to note is that two of the households in my townhome complex are hanging rainbow Pride flags, while neither myself nor the set of husbands near me are.  I'm more inclined to hang the Stars and Stripes, although I'll probably do that as a door decoration or somewhere in my front garden. 

This is a month (and it's definitely not unique to the month of June) where celebrities...even some with whom I've shared the stage...albeit among 400+ other people...post something about their feelings of affinity and concern for "the LGBT community."  Of course it always leans toward the more liberal, gay affirming side of things.  I never truly feel included in their comments.  It's always about "love is love" and "being shamed for who you love," etc.  Sometimes it feels like a perpetuation of oppression.  I've conversed a little with some local "social justice warriors," and sometimes they'll say, "I'll support you whatever path you're on."  But to celebrities and other SJWs alike...how about we have more of a conversation where some of us come from, about how we don't view our religious institutions nor our traditional beliefs as intrinsically "homophobic." 

Another cause of angst is that some people, especially members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, are drawn in to Pride events or other...uh...more "rainbowy" LGBT events and movements out of their own baptismal covenants to "mourn with those who mourn" or "comfort those who stand in need of comfort."  These principles might even push them toward believing that the Church, can, should or will change the doctrine of marriage and the standards of chastity.  My journey in the gospel so far has not pushed me down that road of belief.  Does that make me wrong and them right?  Are we both wrong?  Are we both right? 

I have the same questions about my pre-2015 grappling.  Does my feeling to understand and even stand behind the traditional family unit during that time mean "anti-equality?"  Can God prompt someone to be "anti-equality?"  Or is there "spiritual equality" and "political equality?"  And is it possible that "political equality" gets amplified over everything else and get used as a weapon towards those who believe differently? 

These are kinds of questions that may not have answers right now.  Of course everyone's wondering WHAT is right (and in my experience, left-wing politics and methods of teaching "inclusion and diversity" seem to claim to have all the answers to these kinds of things, yet it's much more nuanced for many of us).

Anyway, I don't have any clear sort of conclusion.  I suppose it represents the lack of closure I feel between opposing viewpoints that seem to get further and further apart...

Rants of a "Politically Incorrect" LGBT Person - Part 2

A subtitle to this mini-series of blogposts could be: "Things I want to say but don't always feel safe to say."  And also, sometimes it doesn't feel appropriate.  I try to be a decent guy.  I don't want to rain on someone else' parade either.  But hopefully this resonates with other fellow gay people (or however you describe your experience) who don't feel like they fit the "mold" of a gay person.

I recently saw a post about LGBT oppression in anticipation of the summer Pride month(s) once again.  It's a difficult time for me.  But here are some things I want to say:

"Oh yes I understand the oppression, especially as a partner-seeking gay person who believes in an orthodox Christian sexual ethic...

"...as long as same-sex marriage is legal (which I'm fine with on various levels) and Pride is celebrated all throughout the year...celibate gay Christians are even more oppressed.  And then there are those who are in heterosexual marriages as well!  And no.  Don't try to tell me that Pride encompasses all of us (perhaps there isn't even a way to encompass all of us...and that's valid).  I shouldn't have to do a bunch of mental gymnastics to believe that I'm included in official modern Pride events.

"...no, I do not get to be lumped in with some 'heteronormative, straight Christian majority' box.  Nope!  Don't don't do that."

It is possible to feel oppressed even in the LGBT community.  I often feel out-shouted by voices that, not only try to convince members of the Church that they should (or should have) supported same-sex marriage, but that the Church itself should change their core doctrines.  Even the Church currently places "LGBT+" people into a box of "those who believe differently than we do."  That's a perpetuation that I don't like.

You know how around Mother's Day each year, when there's a group of people that bring up women who don't have children?  Although I understand, it kind of bothers me sometimes, and there's certainly not something like that for Father's Day.  Men have the seeds of fatherhood too.  But ironically, I'm finding myself succumbing to the same temptations in regards to Pride.  I want to make sure people know that although it claims to be all about "LGBT people," some queer folk still lie outside the scope.

And you know what?  I don't even know the "why" behind all these feelings of conflict.  Some people feel it necessary to jump in and define them for me, like I'm still living in denial and refuse to accept my sexuality, like I'm secretly a homophobic bigot and I'm just like the rest of those "straight, Christian, homophobic bigots."  Or there's the suggestion that, "If you don't like Pride, then don't go."

It's all more complex than that.  Parts of Pride are for me, yet I don't have the fortitude to go and select out what I like and don't like.  It's too hard.  Some of it is jealousy.  Yes, sometimes I get jealous of people.  I would love to have the confidence to strut down the street topless.  I would love to hold hands with a guy friend and walk in a public place.  Some of my frustrations are about the fact that we even need a Pride parade to express that kind of affection for one another.  Yes, the origin of Pride is part of where the world...and the Church...is today.  We all have a certain common LGBT history.

Yet there are other things, especially in Utah, that are painful.  People might not know the conflict I feel when I see an "=" sign in the name of same-sex marriage, whereas I have different feelings about what equality even is.  There are also organizations that I really struggle with.   They proudly wave the flag of "LGBT-friendly," but I wonder if they'd be friendly with me and how I see the world.  I respect their existence.  I understand that they're life-saving for some people.  I'm not going to deter anyone away from them (in fact I've even recommended them to some people).  But some of their attitudes towards the Church and people in it drive me up a wall.  It's not like I don't understand either.  Still,  I have my feelings too.  Then there are the signs that say, "love is love," or "God loves gays."  OF COURSE LOVE is LOVE!  And of course God loves gays!  There's nothing in current church discourse that tells me otherwise!  The Church has gay people in it serving in callings, in the temples, in the Tabernacle Choir, etc.  But of course, my defense is never "good enough" because of the standards regarding marriage and chastity.  That warrants an "anti-gay" accusation, but never mind who we actually have in the Church.  Some people, in or out of the gay community, are still surprised when they find out we exist.

I will say, though, that I have had meaningful experiences during Pride month that were more personal in nature.  Two of them have been while on tour with the Tabernacle Choir at Temple Square (at which time it was called the Mormon Tabernacle Choir).  In 2015, some of us were racing around in Washington, D.C. on Segways the very day same-sex marriage was legalized nation-wide.  There were a variety of feelings to accompany that day.  However I was incredibly grateful to be with the Choir on tour.  That provided a a healthy distraction from the hell that I would otherwise be involved with on-line.  I remember the following week when we were in New York City.  Some choir friends and I were on a stroll and a boat tour around southern Manhattan.  The Empire State Building and several other buildings were lit up with rainbows in celebration of Pride as well as the landmark legislation just a few days before.  It was a pristine moment as I was with friends that I enjoyed being around.  I remember seeing two guys with rainbow tank-tops as we were walking to Hell's Kitchen (on Sunday, no less).  I just felt love for them.  That was my "Pride" day.  Granted, back then I figured the legalization of same-sex marriage would mark an "end" of some sort, and that we could finally start talking about how to thrive as gay people within the Church and associated covenants.  But meh...

Another Pride day found us in the middle of San Francisco...of all places...on our 2018 tour.  The weekend we arrived, I went over to a nearby Target to get some junk food and other necessities.  I passed a Pride section of the store and found some Love, Simon merchandise (if you're interested in something rather neutral, yet educational about what it can be like to be a gay teen...I highly recommend the film Love, Simon.  This is coming from someone who was skeptical...).  So naturally, I had to get a T-shirt.  It said, "Thx Simon" in the iconic rainbow colors.  On Pride day, I avoided the parade and went to tour Alcatraz with some friends...while a few other members of the choir went to events with some LDS-themed LGBT groups who participate in Pride events.  I unashamedly wore my Love, Simon shirt underneath my required musical missionary business casual with enough buttons open to show what I was wearing.  The point I'm trying to make is that I was with people that I loved and who I knew loved me.  We had fun together.  I felt included among them.  That's worth mentioning.  There are many ways in which I feel at home among choir members.  I was nervous about being in San Francisco on Pride Day with the Choir, out of fear that someone would say something rude about gay people, or that I'd feel conflicted the other way, with some choir members who are completely into Pride.  But my fears were unfounded.  It was a splendid day.  That was my Pride.  There's something to be said for the many wonderful members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints who cling to their faith and also cling to their love for other people.

I've also had special moments when I've been on travel for work during the summer months.  I happened to be in San Antonio with a friend on the eve of San Antonio Pride.  I walked around with one of my bros from Texas (married to a woman).  And...gasp...we held hands!  Other times I've just been alone on my travel and had my own special affirmations.

I've had people tell me before that Pride naturally includes all of these experiences.  I suppose so.  But it also helps to have people who will listen to my frustrations about Pride as well, how exclusive it can feel and the acknowledgement that there are some gay people in the world who have conflicts with to outright distaste for modern-day Pride festivals.  And again, it's even more conflicting for me in Utah, seeing other members of my church advocate for things I felt I was counseled against.  It's a difficult place to be.

Another thing "politically incorrect" is that my perspective and view of my sexuality has been shifting and it's something I'm finally starting to accept.  I'm learning that it's something more complex than being "born that way" and it's also more complex than being able to change it.  I'm learning that sexual feelings just kind of are what they are and they're not "good" or "bad," although they can be powerful motivators for a variety of things, even outside of sex.  I just see them as part of my overall emotional makeup.  Yet it's lessening in importance.  I'm learning that I do not have to be constricted to a socially constructed "gay" box.  Heck, I'm even starting to feel uncomfortable when people refer to me as "gay," but at the same time if the topic is brought up, I don't see a point in avoiding that term either.  There are some lines of thought commonly associated with "reparative therapy" that resonate with me and that I understand (yet not in the context of intentionally trying to "change" my sexual orientation).  It's been a scary thing to accept that fact.  It's even more marginalization in the gay community.  But just like everything, it's complicated.  Ask me about it sometime.

Anyway, this ended up being more about Pride than I thought it would be.  I guess something else "politically incorrect" is that I have gay friends who are avid Trump supporters and even more conservative than I am.  They exist too.

Rants of a “Politically Incorrect” LGBT Person - Part 1

How do we stop racism?  Stop talking about it. I’m going to stop calling you a white man. And I’m going to ask you to stop calling me a black man.  -Morgan Freeman

OK well...some of my thoughts might fall in-line with "political correctness (like how I used 'LGBT' in my title even though I'm finding myself drifting away from seeing that as an identity)," but in the end it's just how I feel.

I do have feelings as a white man that I don't feel like I can share in many places without being attacked our countered.  There definitely are perspectives and feelings I have that seem to be "wrong," whether it has to do with LGBT stuff, race, gender, etc.  I'm trying to live according to the beliefs I hold; that each person is a divine child of God.  I'm for "equality" in that sense.  It's just that different people seem to have interpretations of what of it means.  It seems like there's a line of thought (on the left side of politics somewhere) that says, "If you don't do it this way, then you are being racist, homophobic, xenophobic, transphobic, female-phobic (if there's such a term)."  Are we "equal" by virtue of being spiritual beings?  Bleeding the same?  Worthy of love and belonging?  Or are we all to become the same with no differences whatsoever?

I was raised to see pretty much everyone as the same, or rather to look at the content of character more than external appearance or gender.  Men and women held different stewardships, but neither was more important than the other.  Yeah, I found it strange when I learned that some moms worked outside the home, but that's just because my mom stayed home...and it's because she wanted to.  I was unaware that...because I'm a man...that I had any bearing on pressuring other women to stay at home or other men to stay in the workplace.  And yet as a "white man," I'm constantly grouped in with some sort of oppressive group of men...by virtue of my gender and my skin color...it's all my fault simply because I exist.

There was a time when I looked at someone with a different shade of skin color, and I admired them.  I thought it they were beautiful!  I still try to enjoy physical differences like skin color, hair color, hair texture, etc.  I still try to appreciate them for what they are...the beautiful diversity that God created.  I can even appreciate history for what it is and feel bad for what people have gone through.

Yet now everything's been so politicized, and I'm supposed to attach a bunch of assumptions to someone's skin color or gender (including my own)...so much so that it's hard to not feel anger when see or think about skin color...this includes all the assumptions that go along with being "white."  It's said that some children learn racism from talking about racism...not being taught racism, but talking about it.  I think I might fall in the latter.  Someone close to me mentioned that she didn't think there was anything strange about playing with her Hispanic friend until her friend's mom said something about her being "lucky" that she was allowed to play with her daughter.

Wasn't it Morgan Freeman who said, "Stop talking about (racism).  I'm going to stop calling you a white man.  And I'm going to ask you to stop calling me a black man...."  Now, I'm not even that "conservative," only because skin color can be helpful in describing people, but I don't believe that it's central to who someone is.  I'll point out that Mr. Freeman also thought Black History Month was "ridiculous" and then posed the question of why there's no White History Month.  I personally see the point behind Black History Month and can appreciate it.  But I also feel like I miss out on celebrating my heritage or my skin color in the exact same ways.  To do so, however, would be an atrocity in today's political climate (yes, I've been "educated" on why there's no White History Month and why I apparently don't need to celebrate my race and ethnicity, but it doesn't mean I like it.)

Reverend Amos C. Brown, after he met with President Russell M. Nelson, said that it would be well for us to lock arms..."not as black and white, not as Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints or Baptist, but as children of God who are about loving everybody and bringing hope, happiness and good health to all of God's children."

(And are we to just write off the words of these prominent figures (who are both black) as "white supremacist" perspectives or "white fragile" perspectives?  Because I feel aligned with what they have said.  And yet those feelings have now been lumped in with "white supremacy" or "white fragility" in some supposedly "progressive" forums.  The simple ideas of "white history" or "white pride" are deemed inherently racist.  But I say racism is not in the DNA of being white or being an American.)

Now is it required that I "acknowledge my privilege" in order to "bring hope, happiness and good health to all of God's children.?"  How is self-loathing, self-shaming or even guilt for things I didn't do going to help me help other people?  Now, this is part of my unique story...discussions about privilege just bring about a bunch of uncomfortable feelings that border on self-hatred.  Maybe other people can accept "privilege" with more grace and peace than I can.  People say that the uncomfortable feelings are because of my "white privilege" and that I'm used to seeing white people in power, being the majority, etc.  But those aren't my feelings and thoughts.  Those are theirs.  I say that the uncomfortable feelings stem from the belief or expectation that my feelings aren't valid, that I can't express them...or that my feelings are already represented by a history of white male-ness, so there's no room for me to express what I feel.

I'm willing to acknowledge that I haven't had to face some things that others have.  I also face things that others haven't.  I just feel like it's too generalizing to base it all on skin color and/or gender.  I really struggle measuring privilege by a string of criteria.  It puts us into categories, and I thought people like Martin Luther King were opposed to stuff like that.

A few years ago, the Tabernacle Choir at Temple Square sang "Lift Every Voice and Sing," what is known as the Black National Anthem.  While many people of varying shades of skin color appreciated it, it also hit some other black people in a way that caused more pain.  For them, it wasn't our song to sing, as a "predominately white choir."  I don't really know how to validate them without feeling uncomfortable myself.  So what do I do with those uncomfortable feelings?  Where do I get to express how I feel as a white man?  Where can I express how I felt being lumped into a "predominantly white choir" as if it's a bad thing?  What if I'm actually offended at being called "white?"  Yet even these feelings and frustrations of mine are characterized as "white fragility" as opposed to real, legitimate feelings that deserve to be understood.

It's possible that I just don't always have the emotional stamina to engage in conversations where I just need to listen.  Perhaps it's a social media thing.  Perhaps it matters how closely involved I am with people and whether our relationship warrants such vulnerability.

I recently joined the Inclusion and Diversity Committee (IDC) at my work.  I didn't join to be sat down and be educated as a white man or help "educate white people."  I did join to learn, of course, but also to contribute and share my own unique perspectives and ideas.  While they do care about the demographics (I proudly mark the "gay" box on our yearly employee satisfaction survey...adding to the "diversity" of the agency), they also go beyond and are more comprehensive.  They shared a video about how someone should be able to share a "politically incorrect" opinion and be heard as well.  The craft part of our industry, yes, tends to be dominated by white males.  However, they are separated by distance and some disconnection with the corporate world.  Part of our efforts include reaching out to them to let them know we want to include them as part of our agency family...and discussing ways to do that.

I was impressed when, before I joined, a member of the IDC visited our Salt Lake office and pointed out that although many in our office are of the same race, even though there are more men than women...that we are still diverse based on different experiences, backgrounds and beliefs.  Our region's leadership team, at this point, just happens to be all white males.  It's not always like that.  It's just how it is right now.  But that doesn't mean there aren't diverse perspectives.

We did have some training from an outside consultant specializing in inclusion and diversity.  Some things I learned that I hadn't considered before.  Some things I liked.  Some things actually did reference men and assumptions made about them (although it was a small minority of the material).  Other parts I really had a hard time with.  It was very "left" leaning complete with up-to-date terminology like LatinX.  We did that exercise where you put yourself in the middle and put your closest friends and coworkers around you to see if they're diverse enough by way of gender, race, LGBTQ status, etc.  What do you do?  Do I go up to a black person and ask them to be in my closest network just for the sake of diversity...even if it's not genuine?  I had other issues which may or may not be included in further posts.  But luckily I had a group of coworker friends emerge from that...yes a diverse bunch of women and men (including one Latino man)...but we all shared similar feelings about this training that we had...that we didn't agree with everything and that we felt there was a sense of "man-shaming."  I felt supported in that group.

Anyway, I'm obviously passionate about this.  I'm not against inclusion and diversity and I certainly don't consider myself a conscious racist or that I'm somehow superior to people of different colors (cause I have a color too...that thought alone is considered "politically incorrect" in some places).  I certainly don't deny the existence of racism nor my efforts to call it out when I see it.  However, in some modern "progressive" ideologies, it's hard to not feel like I'm some evil person who has to repent of simply being white and male.  Yes, I'm trying to pick up pieces and help where I can in society, but I'm sick of the assumptions that are made about my skin color and my gender.  Hopefully most of us are combatting racism, albeit in different ways.  I prefer to say that there's a messy middle ground and work with that.

Sexuality: A State of Being? Questions about "Identity."

I thought I didn't care about terminology around the experience of same-sex attraction.  But I suppose I do.  This might qualify as me throwing a fit about something small.  Usually I'm able to discard it, but I had feelings about this and I wonder if they're worth sharing.

I re-read a church news article that recounted at talk given at BYU in August 2018 by Eric Huntsman (linked here).  I think when I first read the church news article about it, it didn't phase me or bother me, but upon reading it again, it fueled something I've been bothered about recently.  Brother Huntsman was fine using the word "gay" in his talk in reference to me.  Yet the Church news changed it to "experiences same-sex attraction" in their review (I can't find a link to that article, but it's not too relevant for this post).

Overall, I've noticed a slight adjustment in how terminology is used.  For a little while, it seems like the Church was starting to use "LGBT" interchangeably with "same-sex attraction."  Yet recently and from my corner of the world, it seems like the Church is fine using "LGB" when it's in reference to a specific set of beliefs and behaviors.  I believe President Oaks said something like "LGBT teachings" in the October 2019 General Conference.  Yet when it comes to members of the Church trying to be in full fellowship, those who believe in and strive to honor an orthodox sexual ethic, it's more often than not "experiencing same-sex attraction."

Don't get me wrong.  I've used "experiencing same-sex attraction" in my own language before, but I appreciate it more when both of these terms are used synonymously with little to no distinction between the two.  I get the rationale of the Church (or at least from what I understand).  It's been rehearsed to me several times.  We don't want sexuality to be our identity.  I get that.  Yet does it always have to be a "struggle" too?  Am I doctrinally obligated to avoid the words "gay" or "queer?"

But (and that's a nice butt)...just because someone might use "gay" to describe various facets of their experience...it does not mean they are separating themselves from their identity in Christ!!!  "Gay" doesn't have to be a limiting label, or even a label at all.  It doesn't have to be an "identity."  It doesn't have to refer to sexually acting out.  It doesn't have to refer to anything other than the experience of same-sex attraction.  Yet I feel like the Church wants to keep it as an identity.  Even when people say "I identify as" it still doesn't mean they're taking it upon themselves as their entire identity.  It could mean that they "identify with" or understand the experience of being gay.  It's all deeper than words.

I guess this brings up the question "What is identity?"  What do people mean when they say "I identify as...?"  Is it always the same thing for every person (Hint: the answer is "No.")?

I don't really know how to describe "identity."  Like I said, I'm not sure it can always be described with words.  We say "Child of God" a lot, yet I wonder if the overuse of those words can sometimes hinder what that really means.  I feel like those words can sometimes be dismissive of what I'm really trying to say or what I'm really experiencing.  I prefer to think "I am..." and let the silence fill it in.  If we are eternal beings capable of becoming just like becoming like our Father in Heaven, then "I am..." just like the scriptures say, "I am that I am," (Exodus 3:14).

Now back to language.  Sometimes people see those in same-sex relationships as allowing their sexuality to become their identity.  Then, if that's the case, we'd also have to say the same about opposite-sex relationships.  Many people on the "straighter" side of the spectrum say, "I don't identify as a heterosexual Christian!"  Yet they can "identify" with it in many circumstances without having to use words.

I submit that people who choose to act upon their feelings sexually may or may not see their sexuality as their identity.  On a flip side, someone who adamantly rejects the word "gay" and same-sex sexual behavior can still subconsciously make their sexuality their identity.  I suppose this can happen when they view it as a "constant battle" or a "struggle."  If we're constantly fighting something, it definitely can be at the front of our minds a lot of the time.  However, one can avoid the use of the word "gay" and yet still be in a state of acceptance of their attractions.

To draw an analogy: I can say "I identify as balding" or "I experience balding" or "I am balding," but neither of those phrases actually determines how much weight I'm putting on my baldness.  Likewise, "gay" is a part of who I am.  It's not meaningless.  It's also not my entire identity.  Nothing in this world is.  Why can't "gay" be adopted as just another term or adjective?

I reject the notion that I'll be "made straight" in the next life (although I acknowledge that I'm not in charge).  I choose to believe that even if I have an eternal family, it won't mean that I'm "not gay" or "straight."  I certainly expect my relational abilities with men to be enhanced and perfected in the next life.

To get a little more personal, I think I needed to go through a period of accepting "I am gay" in order to move past that and see myself more wholly.  If I kept telling myself "It's not my identity...it's not my identity," perhaps I would not have learned what I needed to learn.  Perhaps I would have stayed in a state of white-knuckle resistance to this part of myself and it could have exploded later in even more unhealthy ways.  I resonate with the way an acquaintance put it.  He viewed "same-sex attraction" as a way to keep his sexuality at bay and not have to deal with it very closely.  In essence, it was a test of resistance.  Yet he viewed "gay" as a way to own it, to accept it and become in control of it.

Whether I like it or not, this aspect of myself has indeed shaped how I understand God, how I view the world, how I relate to myself and to others, and as I have said countless times...it has shaped how I've come to understand the Family Proclamation, even if it's an imperfect understanding.

Phew.  This is a rant topic for me obviously.  Ultimately, a shift that I'd like to see in church culture is from characterizing sexuality as a struggle or a defect, to more of a state of being. This could be true no matter where someone lies on the continuum of sexuality or no matter how fluid they are.  I don't know if it would help others, but it's certainly helped me.  On another note...wouldn't it be "bridge building" for the Church to refer to some of us in the Church, in full fellowship, serving in callings...as gay every now and then?  I don't believe it changes doctrine even an inch.  Even if people still hate us for our teachings on marriage and sexual behavior...at least we can be flexible with language.

I understand that there probably are reasons larger than myself the Church has for discussing this topic the way they do.  I also know that there are new handbooks coming out and resources coming that we do not yet know about.  I hope it's good!  I have been blessed with some very compassionate church leaders and a supportive family.  I am able to talk about these topics and get them out so they don't bottle up inside me.  This blog is another venue for that as well.  Anyway, I hope some of you can relate!

P.S.  There are times when I really don't like the word "gay," and there are times when I really don't like "same-sex attraction."  Other times I just want to throw my hands up and forget about language!  But here we are with a complex set of feelings and circumstances, and sometimes language doesn't suffice.