iPhone app creates a real-life gaydar

A new smartphone application pinpoints men like radar for those looking for “Mr. Right or Mr. Tonight.” Josh Fernandez thinks there’s a little more to it.

Finding someone worth dating is a complex process. Before computers and the Internet capitalized on the online dating scene, a regular Joe or Jane found someone in a classroom, at work, at a bar, club et cetera. Those Joes and Janes would then have to muster up the courage to talk to people to whom they were attracted, or wait for said attractive people to do so themselves.

As a result of mainstream societal views on everything LGBTQ, members of this community did not have the same luxuries as their straight counterparts. A man approaching another man to say “Hey, you seem cool. Let’s grab coffee sometime,” could’ve risked his dignity and safety because mistaking a straight man as gay is an unfortunate insult – not to mention it makes for a very awkward, otherwise avoidable situation.

Individuals looking for a same-sex romance or casual sex had to rely on bathhouses, bars, mutual friends or establishments that catered specifically to LGBTQ persons. As society became more progressive and the Internet expanded, human interaction via chat rooms, instant messaging and dating sites, gay folk had a new way to meet potential dates and sex partners.

With Web sites like gay.com, match.com and OKCupid, there are a plethora of outlets and unlimited options available in the search for love. A lonely gay man or lesbian couldn’t possibly ask for more, right?

Apparently they can. While having a casual texting chat with a friend several weekends ago, I learned about an intriguing, albeit creepy, mobile application called Grindr. The site for the app reads “whether he’s Mr. Right or Mr. Tonight, your man is hanging out on Grindr, a killer location-based social networking tool for the iPhone or iPod Touch.” The app uses GPS technology to locate other gay or bisexual men within close proximity.

The application caught my interest, and before I knew it, a helpful female friend downloaded the app for her iPhone so we could check out the hype. Minutes after the app downloaded, my friend and I opened it and played around until we experienced the unsettling power of the mobile hook-up app: Several squares with pictures of men, their names and the calculated distance they were from where we stood.

As technology advances and gives society technology like the iPhone and BlackBerry, apps for enhanced use are inevitable. As a “CrackBerry” addict myself, living without applications for Twitter, Pandora and Facebook is unfathomable. But an app like Grindr – exclusively for gay males with iPhones – doesn’t sit well with me.

Face-to-face interaction when asking a potential honey on a date is nerve-wracking, so online dating as an alternative is completely understandable. I’ve gone on dates via OKCupid, and while most were unpleasant or outright unnerving, I’m grateful for the experiences because my heart would sink to my stomach if I had to ask someone out in person. Many of my peers, as well as other college-age students, resort to this mode of date finding because it takes the edge off of the stomach-wrenching humiliation felt by a rejection.

While many who feel this way, including myself, need to eventually learn to suck it up and take a risk, online dating provides a much-needed temporary Band-Aid.

In a world that isn’t always fostering toward the LGBTQ community, having as many ways as possible to find Mr. or Ms. Right (or Mr. or Ms. Just Tonight) is of the utmost importance, and online dating is particularly successful for gay couples. In a recent article about meeting significant others, USA Today reported on a survey that polled 474 gay and lesbian couples, where among those who met two years prior to the conduction of the survey, 61 percent of gay and lesbian couples met online, whereas only 23 percent of heterosexual couples met this way.

Online dating and social networking sites can help an already scary process. But to take a dating site for the mobile Web and attach what is essentially a tracking device is dangerous on so many levels.

This ability of Grindr also takes away from the fun of getting to know someone. By knowing that another Grindr user is 12 feet away, Grindr not only makes stalking creepier by tenfold, but also rushes the process. Sometimes, it’s nice to take your time getting to know your date online before you see him face-to-face.

BlackBerrys and iPhones should be used to enhance human contact, as well as for entertainment and information obtaining purposes. Being able to see a hilarious tweet from a friend in a matter of minutes, or listen to a favorite station on Pandora is what makes living in our constantly changing world fun and exciting.

Grindr is one aspect of our technology-heavy society that does the opposite.

Josh Fernandez can be reached at josh@temple.edu.

Branching out in Philly

Dating and hooking up aren’t the only facets of gay life. Columnist Joshua Fernandez sets out to find his place as an individual in the LGBTQ community.

In addition to doing nothing but eating, bar hopping and oversleeping, I spent my winter break trying to accomplish a new goal: getting the most out of gay Philadelphia.

For various reasons, I no longer play a role on the executive board of Temple’s LGBTQIA organization, the Temple Queer Student Union. Between finals and internship applications, the “Where do I go from here?” thought never crossed my mind. Once finals were over and I had an almost all-day nap, I woke up figuring out how I was going to maintain a connection with the community.

I brainstormed lists, Googled “gay Philadelphia locations” and went out with friends. The only problem is that Philadelphia, unlike cities such as New York and Los Angeles, doesn’t have a wide range of social opportunities for young queers.

At some point during break, I became very familiar with the Web site phillygaycalendar.com, which keeps track of venues, events and news for all-things gay in the city. But prior to that, I was forced to rely on frequent trips to Woody’s this break.

My first trip to the infamous gay club during the break was mildly entertaining. I went with three other friends, and we danced and enjoyed a drink or two. At one point, a lesbian friend danced up on me from behind and teased me until the crowd she was with moseyed by us.

A few flirtatious eye games and a drink later, my friends and I exited Woody’s, walked across the street and were quiet for a minute until the only other male in the group blurted, “Why did we go there?”
We all laughed it off and went home.

That Saturday, I returned to Woody’s. This time I was with hometown friends, and we went through the same routine: drink, dance, drink, bathroom, dance, repeat.

I returned to Woody’s the following Wednesday with a crowd, and I’m now so exhausted from Woody’s that I’m positive I could go at least two months without seeing the place.

A couple days later, a friend and I had a guys’ night out and hit up three different venues in the Gayborhood: Knock, Q Lounge and finally, the Tavern on Camac, a little piano bar.

While enjoying the music, drinks and cute specimen, my friend and I talked about how we needed to have nights like these more often. After all, he said, when you’re young and single, don’t you owe it to yourself to have nights like these? How else, besides online dating and personal sites, can one market themselves?

I agreed with him. The only thing is, I’m not just looking for people to date and flirt with me. I’m looking for a connection to the gay community, something I lacked in high school. At some point during the break — possibly after a night of dancing and being surrounded by beautiful women-loving women at the once-a-month party event, Stimulus — I thought about something that occurred when two different groups of friends were in the same place at once.

The one group I was with sat as the other four friends, all female and all lesbian, made vaginal jokes and talked about lesbian- and queer-related things.

As a result of their conversation topics, my one friend looked over to me and said, “So, we’re the only ones at this table that like penis.”

All I could do was nod, while one female friend tried to put an embargo on queer/gender/women’s studies so everyone at the table could speak and relate to the topic.

Looking back on it, I realized two things.

First, for many young queers, gay/straight alliances and LGBTQ groups are a nice starter for meeting friends. For some people, these groups become a critical social outlet that was not available in high school, and that’s OK.

What occurred to me, however, was that scientists and human sexuality experts say one in 10 people is gay. If this is true — and I believe, to an extent, that it is — then QSU is missing roughly 2,800 LGBTQ folk from its organization. Clearly, whether its more or less than the estimated number I pulled out of my head, other Temple queers are around, and either they are not out of the closet, or they choose not to be in QSU and are connected to the gay community in their own ways.

The second thing I realized is that being queer and queer culture and equal rights do matter to me. I enjoy being able to write about queer things in this column and discuss them in an academic setting. But I no longer want people to only associate me with only “gay” or “queer” in mind. I’m someone who enjoys politics, fiction, poetry, journalism, pop culture, quirky family stories, et cetera.

Being queer is only a fraction (OK, maybe sometimes half) of who I am and what I enjoy talking about, and there are other things to me.

A friend and I had this conversation, and with regard to LGBTQ persons who only relate to each other because of their LGBTQ status, she said, “There has to be more to them than whom they sleep with. And if that’s the only way they connect to people, then what are they going to do once they graduate college? They won’t have QSU after they graduate or look for jobs.”

She’s right. But what I’m learning right now is that some people need that outlet in the beginning. Some people need that outlet always. I’m learning that I need a healthy balance of gay and other social outlets, which is why I recommend exploring any and all options in not just gay Philadelphia, but everything Philadelphia.

Being queer shouldn’t define every aspect of your life. It’s a crucial one, but not the only one.

Joshua Fernandez can be reached at josh@temple.edu.

Fleeting flirting provides possible hurdle for LGBTQ

After a promiscuous encounter with a not-so-available photographer, columnist Josh Fernandez notices a trend.

Thursday night, several friends and I ventured to South Philly to pregame and decide which trendy, over-priced bar we would invade.

A female friend of mine did some recon at a quaint lesbian bar around the corner from Rittenhouse Square. After exchanging a few BlackBerry and text messages, we walked toward the Center City gay bar, desperately trying to escape the 40-degree fall weather.

After a chilling walk, we arrived at our destination: a side alley where the bar’s entrance was located. Outside the bar was our friend, waiting for us and smoking a cigarette.

“Finally, my entourage is here,” she announced to the two boys accompanying her.

I immediately recognized the one boy as an acquaintance from school. I caught myself staring at the second boy, a photographer, who looked familiar, but I couldn’t figure out where I’d seen him. Once inside, he came over and introduced himself, and I realized we were Facebook friends and that he’d been inviting me to this bar through event invitations for the last several weeks.

My friends and I had drinks, we danced, and the photographer took several photos of us. He flirted with me, invaded my personal hula-hoop and threw a plethora of pick-up lines at me. I didn’t mind since the guy I invited and was trying to flirt with up and left me before we decided on a bar.

The recon friend knew the photographer, so I asked her to once again do a little recon for me and get the scoop. She came back shortly after.

“He has a boyfriend,” she said with a disappointed look.

Out of frustration, I blurted loudly, “Then why is he flirting with me?”

“I don’t know. Come on, let’s go dance,” my friend said, trying to get me to do something to keep my mind from wandering.

I try not to judge people who “cheat” on their significant others. If you have an open relationship or rules as to what constitutes cheating and those rules are followed, then good. But I couldn’t figure out whether that was the case.

An hour goes by, and after a couple of drinks, I jokingly kissed one of my female friends. The photographer saw, pulled me away from her and pushed me against the wall, his hand covering half my face. He was aggressively less than thrilled to see me kissing the opposite sex. He walked away jokingly offering to find me a guy to kiss, which I just shrugged off and continued to dance with my friends.

As my friends and I readied ourselves to leave the bar and brave the cold, the photographer came up to me and we chatted for a little. At some point, we kissed with my friends a few feet away. Our faces parted, so I decided to bust it for him.

“So, tell me about this boyfriend of yours,” I said with a smirk.

“He’s cute, we’ve been together for about a year,” he replied smoothly.

He said he was leaving and that I should walk him out, so I did. As you’d expect, we kissed – and a little more – 10 feet away from the bar entrance, before he dashed off.

I felt like a mess. My only guy friend of the group came outside and was encouraging me to just cut my losses and not feel guilty.

“Look,” he started, “I hope you don’t become as bitter as I am, but after a certain point, you learn that a lot of gay men are incapable of commitment.

“If anyone deserves a little fun,” he added, “it’s you.”

To an extent, that is true. I’m tired of floating along and not finding anyone decent worthy of my time. I’m very over the college dating scene. But I have no way of knowing what the photographer and his boyfriend consider cheating.

Some people don’t consider kissing to be a big deal. For others, kissing is a deal breaker. The photographer and I might have hurt his boyfriend.

All of this, in addition to my friend’s belief that a majority of gay men can’t commit, has me thinking that I was born in the wrong generation. In an ideal world, I would’ve been brought up in an environment where homosexuality wasn’t conflicting with mainstream society, and gay men didn’t get this kind of reputation.

I would also like to point out that it’s not solely an issue for gay men. Plenty of people in the queer community deal with this. Our heterosexual counterparts also deal with this. I think the issue as it relates to queers is a result of two factors. For one, many of us weren’t in nurturing environments where queer dating was acceptable in our adolescence. Many queers are just beginning the sexually active phase they didn’t get to have when they were younger.

The other factor is the influence of the media and, to an extent, preceding generations, both stressing that the queer individual’s attractions need not follow the norms that are established for heterosexual coupling and sexual habits. Anyone who watches Queer as Folk, specifically the charismatic, man-eating character Brian, knows what I’m talking about.

There are gay men out there whose motivations are solely based on sex. Anything more — conversation, commitment, et cetera — isn’t necessary. There’s absolutely nothing wrong this, as long as any action is consensual and both parties are fully aware that it’s sex – nothing more.

At times, I feel like I’m a rare commodity. I love to love, and I love to be in love. I want to take that feeling and let it manifest for an individual. I get a little jealous when I see my straight friends, and the few queer friends, who are in relationships. They seem so genuinely happy, almost all the time.

Right now, I have serious fears that my male friend was right. Perhaps our generation isn’t ready for commitment. Maybe 10 years down the line they’ll be ready.

For now, I’m just going to enjoy my life, and cross my fingers from time-to-time hoping someone worthwhile comes along. And if they don’t come for a while, that’s fine too. Patience is supposedly a virtue.

Josh Fernandez can be reached at josh@temple.edu.

Addressing drag culture and the transgender community

‘Tis the season for trick-or-treating, candy chomping and costume wearing. And if you’re not a fan of those, at the very least, you can curl up your couch and enjoy a cult classic, such as The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

The movie, starring Tim Curry as Dr. Frank N. Furter, the “sweet transvestite from Transsexual, Transylvania,” is overtly sexual in nature. The British rock comedy paints Furter as a lunatic and sex crazed mad scientist, who is still loved by audiences everywhere who watch the film religiously or don a Furter Halloween costume.

Furter is merely fictional, and the end of the film reminds us all that he is just Tim Curry in drag. That’s the thing: He’s playing a transvestite, but he’s merely a man fulfilling a role for entertainment purposes.

But we have transvestites and drag queens in the real world and here in Philadelphia. Drag kings and queens get decked out in their best attire for the annual Henry David Halloween Ball. Lisa Lisa’s Thursday night shows at Bob & Barbara’s, at 15th and South streets, are well received – and full of drag performers.

Many mistakenly think of transvestites and drag queens as synonymous terms. The fact is, transvestites cross-dress, or wear the clothing of opposite sex to fulfill some sort of gratification, which can sometimes be sexual. Drag queens are different and are typically men who dress in female clothes and put on makeup for some sort of routine. The term for females impersonating male counterparts is drag king.

Regardless, my concerns arise when people in and outside of LGBTQ culture start associating any type of cross-dressing with transgender individuals.

“There’s a difference between being a transgender person and a cross-dresser,” Director of Women’s Studies Laura Levitt said. “They are different kinds of identifications. Cross-dressing can be done by straight people and can be performative, using the performative space as a venue for trying things out.”

Not knowing the difference is mostly a matter of being misinformed, and sadly, that’s the fault of media, society and even individuals within the LGBTQ movement.

As a friend once said, the “B” and the “T” are often left out in the alphabet-soup acronym for queer culture and the battle for equality. I will continually bring this up in succeeding columns, because it’s the truth. When we leave out or neglect people from our community who aren’t fitting in with the mainstream idea of queer, we’re doing them and ourselves a great deal of injustice.

To be a transgender individual as opposed to someone who is cross-dressing as a drag queen or king or transvestite is very different.

“A drag performance is not the same thing as a transgender person working on performitivity of their gender identification in the culture, and the stakes are higher,” Levitt added.

Those stakes include but are not limited to discrimination of various forms, verbal harassment and violence being the more extreme forms.

In regards to any confusion of transgender and drag or transvestitism Ash Yezuita, a junior history and Asian studies major, says “it’s problematic because at the end of the day [cross-dressers] can take off the clothes and be done with it because they’re still a guy dressing in girls clothes and visa versa.

“But in the trans community, to sort of cross them is completely off the mark because it doesn’t matter whether or not I’m wearing girls or guys clothes, it’s my body, and it’s who I am,” he added.

It’s important to understand this difference. In spite of it all, there are some things drag culture specifically does for the LGBT community that are positive.

When I went to Bob & Barbara’s for the first time with my friends, I never expected to see such a diverse crowd, and by that, I’m referring to the equal ratio of queer to straight attendees. When Lisa Lisa began her drag show, everyone in the crowded bar was enthusiastic and eager to interact with her and her fellow drag queen performers.

My assessment is that drag culture is somewhat helpful in presenting individuals of all backgrounds with a positive message about the LGBTQ community.

Cross-dressing — whether it be for role fulfillment as in the case of transvestitism or for entertainment purposes for drag queens and kings — has its pros and cons. Stereotypes about the gay community can perpetuate and add confusion about transgender individuals.

If we can keep in mind that it’s all different and take into account that drag culture can be used to the LGBTQ community’s advantage, we can sit back and enjoy the show, whether that be Lisa Lisa’s Thursday nights performances at Bobs & Barbara’s or The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

Joshua Fernandez can be reached at josh@temple.edu.

Two students collect $8,000 from LGBTQ scholarship fund

Since 1994, the Jonathan Lax Scholarship helped fund the educations of 129 gay men. This year, two student-leaders from Temple are honored.

In Philadelphia and the surrounding area, home to more than a million people and dozens of colleges and universities, there are countless – sometimes obscure – scholarship funds, grants and loan programs to assist nearly every demographic in paying for higher education.

Such is the case with the Jonathan Lax Scholarship, which has helped fund the educations of 129 gay men since its creation in 1994. Two Temple students, sophomore journalism major Nicholas Deroose and fifth-year graphic design and photography major Douglas Cooper, are among the most recent group of recipients. Both received scholarship awards at a reception Oct. 1.

The Bread and Roses Community Fund, a local donor-funded charitable and activist organization, manages the scholarship, selecting applicants based on academic achievement and activism within the LGBTQ community. After reviewing transcripts, evaluating writing samples and interviewing this year’s 30 applicants, it awarded a total of five $4,000 scholarships to the most qualified individuals.

Deroose has been involved with community activism since arriving from his native Singapore in 2008. Particularly interested in issues facing gays within the Asian population, he is currently organizing a discussion panel on the topic.

The event, titled “Gays, Greeks and Gay Asians,” is scheduled to take place at Tyler School of Art Nov. 5.
Cooper, an Honors Program student and Peabody Hall resident assistant, has attended annual AIDS Walks and anti-Proposition 8 rallies. He credited his selection for the scholarship to his 3.8 GPA.

Both Cooper’s and Deroose’s enthusiasm for furthering tolerance and equality in the LGBTQ community reflect the goals of the John Lax Scholarship Fund, “to obtain additional education, aspire to positions in which they contribute to society, be open about their sexual orientation and act as role models for other gay men with similar potential,” as stated on Bread and Roses’ Web site.

Accordingly, both men intend to use their degrees to promote the rights and acceptance of the LGBTQ community.

But they have their work cut out for them, especially Deroose, who said he plans to return to Singapore.
“The LGBT movement there is still very young and very small,” he said. “There is section 377A of the penal code, which criminalizes consensual homosexual acts. It is still considered a criminal offense to be gay in Singapore.”

Although it is not enforced, the lingering presence of such a law attests to the infancy of the gay rights movement in the region.

Cooper plans to lend his artistic talents to non-profit organizations.

“A lot of my photography has been about LGBT issues,” he said. “I’ve done pieces on transgender individuals and how they have to hide from themselves and others.”

For now, however, Cooper and Deroose are preoccupied with the microcosm that is Temple.

While both men expressed general satisfaction with the state of LGBTQ issues on campus, they agreed that Temple still has a way to go in terms of understanding and accepting the gay population.

“Although Temple is very diverse, [the administration doesn’t] always have the resources in place to address that diversity,” Deroose said, recommending that openly gay faculty members play a more active role in promoting tolerance of the LGBTQ community.

Cooper echoed this sentiment.

“We don’t have as many gay faculty members as UPenn,” he said, “[But] Res Life is very accepting here.”

Don Hoegg can be reached at donald.hoegg@temple.edu.

Going out after coming out

With National Coming Out Day last week, there are plenty of ways to celebrate lifting that psychological burden from one’s chest, depending on various parental reactions.

The difficult part is over; it’s out of your hands. You’ve told it to them straight: “I’m gay.”
Now it’s time to celebrate, or if not, it’s time to drink until you forget that look on your mother’s face. Either way, you’ve put a lot thought and effort into this day. So, let us take the reins and plan your post-coming out party, no matter what your family’s reaction.

Reaction #1:
“I will love you no matter what.”

These parents accept your lifestyle, and while they may not want to dive head first into the LGBTQ community, they’re keeping an open mind.
Visit Tavern on Camac, one of the oldest gay bars in the U.S., where you can sing to the piano in the lounge or make moves on the club’s dance floor.
Dinner is eclectic as well, with starters like cinnamon apple and brie bruschetta and fiesta mac ‘n’ cheese and entrees that range frommeatloaf to half a roasted duck.
Tavern on Camac,
243 S. Camac St.,
215-545-0900,
tavernoncamac.com

Reaction #2:
“I already knew.”

Don’t be bummed that your news didn’t make the splash you expected, and please, don’t take this as an invitation to map out each and every rendezvous.
Your parents are pretty cool and so is Bob and Barbara’s Thursday night drag show.
If your parents kept the secret from you this long, they can wait patiently for Thursday night to celebrate alongside Miss Lisa Lisa and her girls.
Bob and Barbara’s,
1509 South St.,
215-545-4511,
myspace.com/bob_and_barbaras

Reaction #3:
“You’re going to camp.”

This ‘worst case scenario’ straight out of But I’m a Cheerleader may not be as common a reaction as it once was, but it may be your cue to book it to Canada – or Woody’s.
At Woody’s, the shots are huge, and the bartenders are hot – hot enough maybe that your counselor at sleep-away camp won’t stand a chance at “converting” you.
Woody’s Bar,
202 S. 13th St.,
215-545-1893,
woodysbar.com

Reaction #4:
“I don’t understand.”

Misunderstandings happen, and in this case, it may be up to you to bridge the gap.
Let your words marinate over Kock Restaurant and Bar’s “filet di knock” or its grilled flat bread with lobster and brie.

Dim candlelight helps mask a good portion of the blushing that may ensue, or maybe Mom will blame it on her fifth martini.
Knock Restaurant and Bar,
225 S. 12th St.,
215-925-1166,
knockphilly.com

Nikki Volpicelli can be reached at nicole.volpicelli@temple.edu.

Facing family values out of the closet

When senior Angelo Williams realized he was gay, God wasn’t the higher authority whose approval he feared losing – it was his parents’.

I was born in Baltimore, the first of three and the eventual “good child.” From a young age, my siblings and I knew one thing above all else: God should be the center of our lives.

I loved wearing my whitest, crispest shirts and perfectly ironed dress pants for worship services. But what I loved most was the sense of belonging within my church family and the knowledge that someone who loved us unconditionally was watching over us all.

Soon, puberty and hormones came, and as sex education became part of the school curriculum and abstinence talks found their ways into Bible study topics, a change in my friendships’ dynamics emerged as well. I saw my best friends – mostly girls – getting boyfriends. Group dates turned into couple dates, and suddenly, I was the odd man out.

I started feeling resentment toward my friends for what felt like abandonment. That feeling quickly morphed into a cocktail of animosity and jealousy. Then, I was just confused.

I knew I had no desire to date any of my girl friends; in fact, the idea kind of repulsed me. It was then I realized I wanted the attention my friends were getting from boys.

As a teenage boy surrounded by girls 24/7, surely I must have been dating one, right?

“You’ve certainly been spending a lot of time with (arbitrary girl’s name here),” my parents would say. “She’s really pretty. Is that your little girlfriend?”

Eventually, I gave them the answer they yearned for.

My one and only girlfriend was Amanda, who couldn’t have been more of my opposite. I’m a black kid, who used to dress in baggy urban labels that were fashionable then. She, on the other hand, was a pale-skinned white girl, who wore brightly colored make-up, ever-changing hair colors and parachute pants with metal chains.

We kept the charade up for a month before one awkward kiss too many pushed me over the edge, and I confessed that I thought I was gay.

For the first time, I felt I had been honest with someone and honest with myself. I began telling friend after friend, to pretty universal reaction – they already knew.

The ease of coming out to so many people encouraged me to do so with my parents too – until the following Sunday.

That morning at church, my pastor entered the pulpit dressed not in his customary black robe but a simple white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up at the wrists. Stepping up to the podium, he said, “I had to dress lightly today, y’all. It’s gonna get heated in here. I’m gonna talk about something ya’ll don’t want me to today.”

The church congregation yelled words of encouragement:

“Preach, pastor.”

“Speak on it!”

He stepped away and paused to let the comments subside.

“The Lord does not condone anyone saying they’re a Christian and then laying in bed with someone of the same sex.”

The entire congregation, including my parents, erupted in applause and words of agreement. My mother, who had been holding her Bible, placed it on my lap so she could stand and make her applause louder.

It felt like someone had stripped me naked and exposed me. It hadn’t occurred to me that something like whom I loved could stand in opposition to my religion. I was thrust into a state of confusion once again, but I knew I had to tell my parents the truth about me.

One evening, I sought the advice of my friend Erika through the Internet about the best way to come out to my parents. I briefly left my spot at the computer, but when I returned, my father was anxiously pacing the floor.

He said he’d read my conversation.

“I still love you,” my mother first said, after not speaking to or looking at me for two days. “I’ll still support you. But I want nothing to do with the lifestyle.”

I decided I just wouldn’t bring it up again, and slowly, things went back to normal. Eventually, my sexual preference became a topic to stay away from.

It was never discussed, until one night, when my parents called me into their bedroom and asked me to sit. After seeing a man on a television show who had become an alcoholic because his family disapproved of his lifestyle, they feared the same could happen to me if they didn’t alter their perspectives.

After hours of the three of us talking and shedding tears, I was able to show them my lifestyle and my religion weren’t in opposition with one another and that I loved God no less because of my sexual preference.

I can’t say the story ends perfectly, with them saying they’ll walk me down the aisle for my wedding to the man of my dreams, but at least I know they’re more accepting because they know I haven’t compromised my beliefs.

Angelo Williams can be reached at angelo.williams@temple.edu.

Translating Gender

Since last year’s merge with TransAction Student Network, Queer Student Union has expanded both its membership and diversity. Still, some issues in the transgender community are beyond reach of a student organization.

Ash Yezuita describes his elementary school-aged self as a somewhat girly tomboy.

“I had this long, flowing, wavy blond hair,” Yezuita, a junior history and Asian studies major said. “I loved skirts and dresses and corsets, but I’ve always been told I’ve been a little androgynous.”

Yezuita, whose birth certificate reads he was born female, revealed to his family as 12-year-old “Ashley Renee” that he was bisexual.

“From an early age, I’ve always known a lot about the [LGBTQ] community, but the ‘T’ wasn’t on my radar yet,” he said. “I had no idea about that ‘T.’”

That “T” refers to transgender, one community encompassed under the umbrella of the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer community.

“It wasn’t until I came to college that I really started questioning gender,” said Yezuita, who now identifies as gender queer, a term he said suggests there is no gender binary. “Learning about gender identity in women’s studies classes, I would think, ‘Wow, this is how I feel.’

“This semester, I started asking for people to call me ‘Ash.’ It needed to come at a transition period, as I was starting to get involved in the community and in QSU.”

Temple’s Queer Student Union, formerly Common Ground, serves as a social networking utility, information threshold and safe house for transgender and other LGBTQ members.

Last year, the newly elected QSU Executive Board made the decision to merge with TransAction Student Network, the previous organization on campus that catered specifically to transgender students.

“LGBT has tended to really just cater to the gay and lesbian community,” said senior women’s studies major Kate Moriarty, former TransAction co-chair and current QSU vice president. “The bisexual and transgender aspect have tended to be excluded both on Temple’s campus and in the community as a whole. In a small, but possibly quite large scale, we’re trying to change that.”

President Keith Davis said QSU started addressing transgender issues with the implementation of a Transgender Committee.

“We’re continually pushing toward gender neutral housing and bathrooms, dealing with issues pertaining to roster sheets that still state the identity of individuals as their registered legal
names,”said Davis, a senior political science and anthropology major.

“We’re also working on altering university-wide forms, such as the ones in Student Health Services, that only give the ‘M’ and ‘F’ option.”

Davis said when transgender students are forced to disclose a gender with the choice of only “male” or “female,” it can create embarrassing and awkward situations for those who don’t identify with either.

“The invitation that still happens to trans people in the classroom is that question: ‘Are you a boy or a girl?’” said Scott Gratson, director of undergraduate studies in the School of Communications and Theater. “It’s an intimate question that gets into medical issues. Do people realize that question is as invasive as asking any other personal medical history?”

Senior Vice Provost and Dean of Students Betsy Leebron Tutelman said it’s important for the university to be respectful of and welcoming to its students of all communities.

“We respect our students’ decisions to come forth with their [gender identities], and we’re open to them,” Tutelman said.

“There is, not to my knowledge, a university entity solely devoted to trans [...] or to GLBT issues on campus,” said Gratson, who received a LGBTQ ally award from the Metropolitan State University of Denver, “which, in 2009, in slight, is an embarrassment. Especially at a university that prides itself in such diversity.”

While there may not be an institution dedicated specifically to LGBTQ issues, this Wednesday, Oct. 7, Tuttleman Counseling Center will begin offering half-hour therapy screenings as part of TRANSitions: Transgender Psychotherapy Group.

“Trans people deal with the things that everyone else goes through, with the addition of identity issues,” said Anna Feliciano, a doctoral intern and group leader for TRANSitions.

Yezuita, who is interested in breast removal and hormone therapy, said his personal experience with the initial screening phase of TRANSitions was not as focused on gender identity as he would have liked.

Yezuita battled with his body image for several years and lost 50 pounds in three months last year. He sought counseling for gender identity, but he said the Tuttleman counselor seemed to focus more on his eating disorder.

“The counselors were extremely nice and everything, but I wanted to just say, ‘Come on, what about this identity thing?’” Yezuita said.

Moriarty said while some members of QSU echoed Yezuita’s sentiments regarding Tuttleman Counseling, others said their experiences have been nothing but positive.

According to the National Center for Transgender Equality, there are as many as 3 million transgender Americans. Of the 147 universities that include gender identity and expression in their nondiscriminatory policies, Temple isn’t one of them.

“We would love for Temple to adjust its nondiscriminatory policy, but to a degree, those are just semantics,” Moriarty said.

This fall, QSU will implement transgender sensitivity training, administered by the Bryson Institute of the Attic Center.

“We want to see further steps taken by the university, such as faculty and staff GLBT sensitivity and Safe Space training,” Moriarty said.

In the meantime, QSU’s meetings will continue to serve as a safe space and outlet for transgender students, including Yezuita.

“It’s a labeled society. We’re all obsessed with labels,” Yezuita said. “And there’s always that fear, that ‘Will-I-be-accepted-?’ fear. But Monday nights are my favorite now, because I think by surrounding myself with the people in QSU, we’ll have the ability to change that.”

Maria Zankey can be reached at maria.zankey@temple.edu.

Inquiring LGBTQ

Regardless of a person’s views, anti-gay slurs are unacceptable.

On a student’s dormitory door at Guilford College, someone left a note that read, “nobody wants your kind on campus.” Three nights later on the Greensboro, N.C., campus, the same student received another note.

“You don’t deserve life like the rest of the world,” it said. “It’s bad enough with out all the gay crap pulling people down. It’s sick unnatural, and death is almost too good for you. Almost.”

Nearly 400 students attended a nighttime vigil hosted by the Guilford Pride and the Guilford Peace Society to voice their protest.

Thankfully, no such anti-gay hate crime has been reported on Temple’s Main Campus, and The Temple News would like to commend the student body for this. The LGBTQ community at Temple is just that, a community of students. No student deserves the torment the Guilford College student endured.

And as hard as The Temple News tries to keep its eyes open and ears alert, we do not know everything that happens within the confines of dorms, off-campus housing or in side conversations in public on Main Campus. No such incident has been reported, but anti-gay slurs, which open up pathways to more hateful and damaging crimes, are not uncommon.

In March 2007, a gay college student named Ryan Skipper was stabbed to death 20 times. The Tampa Bay Times reported “one of the two accused killers told witnesses he was ‘doing the world a favor by getting rid of one more f——.’”

For anyone to think occurrences like the death of Ryan Skipper and the notes written to the Guilford College student are justifiable is wrong. If students overhear negative conversations regarding the LGBTQ community or witness hate crimes, it is imperative they encourage others to cease.

Students with questions regarding the LGBTQ community are encouraged to attend “Speak” in the Owl Cove of Mitten Hall Wednesday, Oct. 7 at 6 p.m. The session, hosted by Queer Student Union in honor of National Coming Out Week, will include coming out stories as well as a question-and-answer portion. A rally will be held Thursday, Oct. 8 at noon at the Bell Tower for members of the Temple LGBTQ community and their heterosexual allies.

To learn more, check out our coverage of Coming Out Week and LGBTQ issues in News and Living.
Students should do their part in making sure Temple doesn’t have to face the kind of bigotry that Guilford College endured.

Loving your body as LGBTQ

Whether gay or straight, no one is immune to insecurities.

It happens every Wednesday. Around 10 p.m., I get out of the shower, style my hair, throw on the “hippest” outfit I can and roll out of my apartment complex to a place many, but not I, call the gay mecca – Woody’s.

Once there, my posse and I head to our respective underage and 21-and-over entrances and reunite on the dance floor of Philly’s perhaps most infamous gay club. Everything is fine and dandy. We’re all dancing to Lady Gaga or the latest addictive pop hit, everyone is having a good time.

And then it all comes to a loud, ego-screeching halt (well, for me at least). Everyone in my group of friends, with the exception of those in relationships, is grinding up on someone. After a while, I start to feel like I’m missing out on something.

I go home after closing time, head immediately to the closest mirror and scrutinize my reflection. Aside from being drenched with sweat, the person I see in the mirror is someone I am proud of.

But after a while, I start nitpicking. I think to myself, “I could do without the round face. Maybe lose a little weight there, and my mid-section, definitely could lose a chunk of blubber out of my mid-section. Time to hit the gym.”

I’m a stellar friend. I’m witty. I’m funny. I’m an amusing character. When I can’t figure out why I haven’t attracted a guy at a stupid club, I automatically think it’s because I’m not a twig or a body-building gay. I’m somewhere in between. I’m an average guy with a larger-than-life persona.

So why do I feel there’s a hole in the “Josh package” because I don’t have pecs of steel, rock-hard abs or massive Popeye arms? My concern over this has led me to believe that I am not the only LGBT college-age individual with a body image problem.

Body image problems are not a gay thing, and they’re not a straight thing – body image issues are an every one thing.

I bring this up, though, because very little research has been done regarding the LGBT population and eating disorders. Numerous studies on this topic have been conducted for straight women, and rightfully so: eating disorders and body image issues definitely haunt a large number of young women. This type of research, though, tends to exclude LGBT-identified people.

Of the few studies that account for the LGBT community, one in particular was conducted by Columbia University’s Mailman School of Public Health. In April 2007, researchers surveyed 516 New York City residents, of which 125 were heterosexual males and the rest were gay or bisexual males and females.

The study found that 15 percent of gay or bisexual men had an eating disorder or symptoms of one at some point during their lives. Dr. IIan H. Meyers, who lead the research, couldn’t say why these men had eating disorders but hypothesized that it’s because of societal values that “promote a body-centered focus.”

Meyers found a correlation between the gay community and eating disorders. He noticed that of the male participants in the study, those who said they felt very connected to the gay community and were a part of various LGBT organizations didn’t have higher rates of eating disorders than those who were not as close with the LGBT community.

This study – “the first of its kind,” claims the school – is an excellent start, but more needs to be done. I want studies focusing on finding better patterns between eating disorders and the members of the LGBT community. I want another study that doesn’t seem gay or bisexual male oriented. I want this stuff to focus on lesbians and bisexual women as well.

Issues relating to body image affect us all.

Some body image problems are less severe, like my own, which revolves around me taking pot-shots at my form once in a blue moon. And not all these types of problems are related to being LGBT.

Two friends recently revealed to me that they experienced body image issues that led to eating disorders. While both are proud members of the LGBT community on campus and in Philadelphia, their eating disorders had very little to do with being gay.

“I was 14 when I was at my heaviest,” my male friend said. “I saw myself as lumpy and disproportional. I was surrounded [by my] swim team, and my grandmother would make comments about [my body].”
My lesbian friend revealed that her issues revolved around her parents.

“My family, especially my dad, was verbally and emotionally abusive,” she said. “I never found anyone as admirable as my mom, and I aspired to be like her, especially physically.”

Whatever the causes – pressure from gay culture, mainstream society in general, et cetera – it all boils down to one thing: the emphasis placed on the body.

Some days I wake up and walk past a mirror and think to myself, “Damn, you’re looking good.” Other days, I feel the complete opposite.

But either way, I’m tired of wasting time worrying that my body isn’t good enough. And you should too.
We as a society need to stop spending so much time and energy on our “imperfections.” For those of you who disregard this advice, you’ll likely regret it in three years, after spending so much time being critical of your bodies when you could have been having fun or finding someone who appreciates the whole package.

Josh Fernandez can be reached at josh.fernandez@temple.edu.

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