Reflections on a day, October 11th, 2007: Coming Out Day at the University of Oregon.
I’ve been a university employee for more than 12 years now. I’ve been “in the closet” for this whole time. Can you believe that, on this most liberal and supportive of campuses, I’ve been afraid? You might ask how that can be. But, most of campus does not know about the other side of the street.
We have our harassment training and diversity training the same as the rest of the campus…but…
I’ve been “one of the boys” for long enough that I’ve gotten the inside scoop of how those sessions are treated on this side of the street. The most telling remark came from a previous co-worker. “You wanna know what sexual harassment is? I’ll tell you. If anyone ever comes out to me, I’ll file a sexual harassment suit against him.” He went on to explain that it wasn’t any of his business whether someone was gay, and the only reason anyone would possibly come out to him was if they wanted sexual interaction with him.
Another example? After one particular harassment training session, where someone accidentally mentioned “homosexuality,” another co-worker expressed yet another widely held sentiment: “I can’t believe that we have to act like it’s normal when those people choose to be that way.” This one went on to pontificate, in language fit not even for a logger’s bar, about how obvious it was that “those people” chose to turn down a good thing, just because they didn’t get enough attention, or because they wanted to make a spectacle of themselves or other blah blah blah.
I remember when I first got the job here on campus. I was excited. I would finally be working in an environment that would allow me to be more open. I wouldn’t have to act straight anymore. Then I had my first encounter with my co-workers. I showed up early on that first day. I was ready to charge into the fray of learning the job. One of the very first things pointed out to me? Prior to the arrival of the boss of course, in that now retired employee’s exact words, “We don’t care whether anyone’s gay or not, we just don’t want to know about it.”
The examples go on. Twelve years of examples. The good ol’ boys club, sharing their bias with me, assuming I’m one of them. “That man needs to be shown how to walk like a man.” “I don’t care if it is okay now, there’s no reason for any straight guy to have an earring.” And today. Today of all days. I’m with a group of people picking up our annual issue of safety shoes when a lady comes in and asks where the ladies’ shoes are. One of the guys quips, “Dale’s trying those on.”
I haven’t been very brave through any of these incidents. I haven’t stood up for my rights. I haven’t pointed out that it’s wrong to single out a specific group for abuse. I haven’t even pointed out, when the comments start rolling, that I am one of “those.” I’ve simply shrugged, walked away, and known that I’ve got to be careful to not let anyone know.
You haven’t seen my name on the list for the past 12 years. I’m a little ashamed of that. So here it is. The day after, if the Emerald decides to use this. I am Randy Collins. I work at Facilities Services in the Central Power Station. And I’m gay.
Don’t take this as a hit against Facilities Services. We are building a great plan to implement diversity training into our annual training. We are working to change the dichotomy. It takes time is all, and for our people to see that some of us are forced to live that life. Like me.