What was it like being gay, closeted and on the Allegheny Campus between the years 1964 through 1968?
When I look back on those years, they are something of a haze. I have little recollection of much of the time. Sure, I remember the time I spent rushing a fraternity, and the time I spent seeking out the right course schedule, and the time spent writing papers till the wee hours of the morning. But what I don't remember are the times I was dating or sharing my joys and sorrows regarding my latest date and/or love. For me those were scary times.
I was not in any way shape or form out when I stepped foot on the Allegheny College Campus and there was no place for me to explore who I really was - that I knew of. And during that first year, I hid the feelings I experienced towards men from all my new friends. I led a secret life within my own head that first year. Sexually, I was totally inactive. I fantasized, and I dated some freshman girls. I even had a "girlfriend." I dumped the one at home for a new one on campus. In this way, I could be seen as straight. When it came time to rush a fraternity, I did that. I had a feeling there was a house on campus where I would fit in, but alas, they did not seem to want me. So I went where the other guys on my floor went and was straight for a while.
The following year, I discovered that there was at least one cruisy spot some 40 miles away in Erie, and that is where I went to connect. At home, I had no connections because the thought of having gay friends either at home or on campus was too frightening. So I moved through those years on campus hiding and lonely. By the time I hit my junior year, I was at least out to myself, but to no other human being. I decided I could not stand it anymore and told two of my fraternity brothers my shameful secret. They were as supportive as they could be in 1967. They covered for me when I went off to Erie or Youngstown, or when some phone calls came to the house. They kept my secret for me.
As I look back on that time, I almost think about the way it should have been and the way I imagine it is today. Of course, not living on a college campus in 1998, I have no way of knowing what it is like today. I do know this: I wish I had not given up those years. I have few friends from my college years because I insulted them by not sharing my real self. I have no happy memories of romance or flirting or just talking about the realities of my life.
I believe that this experience was my experience and not the experience of all gay men and women who were on campus in 1964 through 1968. I know that some of "them" were friendly with each other, and I imagine that they gave support in the ways that were possible in those years. I was not a part of that group of people. I was too afraid that if I sought the people who could help me and with whom I could connect both intellectually and emotionally that I would be treated as a pariah by the people I wanted to be like and could never be like until I was comfortable with my homosexuality as they were with their heterosexuality.
As I look back on the previous paragraphs, I get sad. So rather than carry that sadness through, let me share two other points. In many ways, I had a blast in college. I loved being with my buddies in the fraternity house. I loved fighting over which room I would get and staying up all night discussing philosophical existential questions that had no answers, I loved the pizza and the subs and the football games, I even loved the parties. I loved being the house steward with all the power that goes with it. My student teaching experience was one of the best experiences of my life. I learned as much as I could about my chosen field of study and I even enjoyed the intrigue of being different.
The second point is probably more important: I learned that the closet is called a closet for a reason. It is a dark, closed, shut, frightening place. It is a place I will never find myself again. I am 51 years old. I have lost a lover to AIDS and I am at the beginning of a new relationship with a terrific man. Ironically, he is a bit closeted. He suffers from the same disease I suffered from in 1968 - homophobia - A disease that has no cure but can be treated and arrested. He is recovering as I recovered. I am extremely proud to be who I am today. I am a gay man who went through the sixties and seventies in fear. I am a gay man who survived the pandemic and who knows the value of love and commitment.
I am a proud gay man living in the nineties with some vague memories of a past life to which I will never return.
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