The Dirty Little Secrets of the American Military

I’d like for you to do me a favor. Tomorrow, when you go to your job or to your classes, don’t tell anyone you see or work with what gender you are. If you sense that they may know what your race is, deny it, and if your ethnicity starts to show through hide it quickly; someone might see.

It sounds like a ridiculous task, but it is happening in our own Armed Forces. “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” was hatched by the Clinton administration as a compromise with republicans to keep from banning gays in the American military all together.

The idea—gays could serve in the military but only if they kept their homosexuality under wraps.

The premise is no less ridiculous than the scenario posed at the beginning of this editorial. The compromise made was equally as ridiculous. By cementing Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell into law congress made a bad situation worse.

The law is out of step with the times and now polls show, it is out of step with the public opinion as well. A recent ABC News poll showed that 75 percent of Americans are in favor of gays serving openly in the military. It would appear that our country has moved ahead of our leaders in Washington and the military brass.

Those who wish to serve our country in the military should be allowed to do so without qualification, and should also be allowed to do so openly.

One’s sexual preference is no more a choice than race, gender or ethnicity. Just as it would be absurd to expect someone to hide these things on the job, so too is it equally as absurd to expect someone to hide their sexuality in the Armed Forces, and be discharged should they slip up.

More than 13,500 brave Americans have been discharged under Don’t Ask Don’t Tell since President Clinton signed it into law in 1993; over 600 in the last year, the majority of them being women. Of those thousands no doubt many were specialists in their field and offered priceless assets to our military. Yet, because of a bogus law, we are without their contribution.

In a time of two wars overseas where translators and cultural specialists are crucial, we cannot afford to be firing them over matters such as this.

This is a law that must be repealed; there is no time like the present to do so. President Obama campaigned last year on the promise that he would unequivocally end the law.

“I will end Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell,” Obama vowed once again in an Oct. 10 speech to a gay civil rights advocacy group. All of those promises, both on the campaign trail and behind podiums at civil rights dinners have been empty ones at best.

Speaking on the eve of a massive gay rights demonstration in Washington, D.C., the president said, "We should not be punishing patriotic Americans who have stepped forward to serve the county. We should be celebrating their willingness to step forward and show such courage, especially when we are fighting two wars.”

The president is nothing short of correct, but so far his bite hasn’t matched his bark at all when it comes to the issue of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell; or any other gay rights issue for that matter.

The startling truth is that we are two wars right now so it is questionable why or how the military leaders have the gumption to ask for more troops while they are systematically discharging highly qualified troops for their sexual preferences.

Many other western nations including our allies in NATO, Britain and France have abolished similar laws. None of the countries that have done away with them have reported dissent or a decline in morale among their troops. It wouldn’t happen here in America either. Our leaders just need to open their eyes.

Addressing this issue has been put off long enough and it cannot be allowed to get lost in the debates over larger issues such as health care reform.

LBQT blogger Jeff Sheng has started a project of photographing homosexuals in the military while obscuring their faces, as some of them are in the closet. He wants to expose the military’s dirty little secret. The project is just in its beginning stages but helps put a picture with a cause and will hopefully add more pressure to the Obama administration to deliver on their promises.

The LBGT community is often some of the most socially liberal in our country and no doubt played a big part in electing Barack Obama. Issues as cut and dry as Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell are ones that I frankly thought wouldn’t be a fight if Obama were elected. No doubt many others in the community felt the same way.

It seems though that it is a fight, and certainly one worth fighting for. Barack Obama must be held accountable by the people who helped elect him. He must be pressured and in turn must pressure congress to repeal this law.

Every day that Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell is allowed to remain military policy is another day that injustice rules over social equality.

The Flight: A conversation with God

The following is one of my short stories that was selected for publication in 'The Lyre' Greensboro College's annual literary magazine:

I was crammed into a middle seat on a cross-country flight from Houston, Texas. As we took off and rose above the clouds I leaned forward, placed my hands under the seat and pulled out my laptop computer. The computer's fan roared as it powered up and I began pecking away at the keys; turning letters into words and words into paragraphs. As my typing reached a fevered pace, God glanced over.
"What are you typing," he asked.
Always the studious journalist, I never traveled without my laptop and editorial ideas close at hand. "A column," I answered. "For the student newspaper, on campus. It actually has something to do with you."
God looked interested so I took it to mean he wanted to know more about what I was writing. "You know," I continued, "there is thins group in Washington D.C. putting billboards up across the country that say: 'Why believe in God?'"
He still had a curious look on his face so I turned my laptop around to show God a picture of the sign that I had saved from a previous Google search.
"Oh, that's got nothing to do with me," he said as he stared down at the screen. "That's about the first amendment and freedom of speech. I don't revel in those issues."
Startled at his reaction, I asked, "that doesn't bother you in the least."
Just as that question left my lips and reached God's ear, the plane shook violently from a crosswind. The guy who had the aisle seat next to me spilled his Bloddy Mary. "Goddamn," he shouted loudly, but God paid no attention. Instead he remained infatuated with the column I was writing.
"Just answer the question," he quipped as he continued to stare at my computer and then into my eyes.
I stared back into his eyes blankly as he continued,"you know, you can talk about things like Thanksgiving, Easter, Christmas, why we celebrate them and what people really are thankful for when they sit down at their table to say grace.
Dissatisfied with God's answer, I looked up from my laptop and began to speak. "I don't know what to do. Proving your existence is a deep and heavily philosophical question. Its theological. I suppose the pocket watch analogy would work: that just as something as complex as a pocket watch couldn't have been made without a clock maker, neither could plants, animals and humans exist without a creator."
God didn't seem to care at all about my talking in asides about proving he existed. He just sat there popping peanuts. "I don't need your writing to prove I exist," he said. "That's not the premise of the group of the group or the billboard you are writing about. It asks, 'Why Believe?' Quite honestly, thats a valid question. What have my people done to help answer it lately?"
"Well," I started stunned at God's answer. "I believe in you because I see you and have seen you, in person now and always in the world around me"
The plane rocked and swayed back and forth now more violently than it had the whole flight. I hated flying for this very reason. It terrified me. My ears popped for what seemed like the hundredth time making the noise of the screaming baby behind me even more audible. God looked over at the man who had spilled his Bloody Mary, then back out the window. He gave a sly smile as the sun sank below the clouds.

"It's not all poetry out there in the sky, you know. Where you see poetry, some people see cotton white clouds and a fiery ball of gas. Where you see eternity, others see an infinite ocean. Where you see my words, others see blank pages. When you hear my voice, others here silence."
At first, I wasn't following God's argument, but I allowed him to continue. He is God after all. I was now more focused on my heart as it raced with the pitching and swaying of the plane as he continued to speak.
"What do you hear then," he asked, "when no one else sees; when you find yourself in a place where no one knows your name; when you've reached the end of your rope and you are ready to curse the brokenness in your life? Where do you turn when famine and disaster strike, when the Doctor tells you its cancer or that your Grandmother won't make it through the night. Where do you turn when you find out your parent's marriage is ending in divorce. DO you hear me, see me or feel me then?"
I looked down at my laptop. "Sometimes," I uttered, "but it isn't like I don't want to all the time."
"Why," God asked.
"Because nothing else and no one else makes sense to me," I answer.
Suddenly the violent turbulence we had been experiencing for what seemed like an eternity subsided. The calming voice of the captain came over the intercom. we were about to land.
The man on the aisle across from me wiped up the last bit of his Bloody Mary and returned his tray to the upright position. The baby in the seat behind me stopped screaming. I felt the landing gear engage and minutes later, felt it touch the ground. I grasped my laptop in my arms and rested my head against the seat.
"What a rough flight," I thought to myself how much I hated those. I was happy to have landed safely.
"Thank God," I sighed. Just as I had said that God leaned over closer to my ear.
"You're welcome," he whispered.