In or Out at Work
http://www.gbmnews.com/articles/1683/1/In-or-Out-at-Work/Page1.html
Jerome Whitehead
By Jerome Whitehead
Published on 10/13/2007
I was walking through a department store a week or so ago looking for a picture frame. I think that the store was either Pier One or Kohls…I’m not sure. In either case, I recall picking up a pewter picture frame. There was nothing overtly eye-catching about it except for the size.
It was 5 X 7 and I had the perfect picture to place inside of it. It was a picture of my partner – dazzling dimpled smile and all. I thought that this frame would look so good on my desk, but as I picked it up and looked it over, I had to ask myself if this were something that I really wanted to do. The frame and the picture were nice enough, but was I ready to take this step? Did I want to be completely out at work?
I was walking through a department store a week or so ago looking for a picture frame. I think that the store was either Pier One or Kohls…I’m not sure. In either case, I recall picking up a pewter picture frame. There was nothing overtly eye-catching about it except for the size. It was 5 X 7 and I had the perfect picture to place inside of it. It was a picture of my partner – dazzling dimpled smile and all. I thought that this frame would look so good on my desk, but as I picked it up and looked it over, I had to ask myself if this were something that I really wanted to do. The frame and the picture were nice enough, but was I ready to take this step? Did I want to be completely out at work?
In or Out at Work
I was walking through a department store a week or so ago looking for a picture frame. I think that the store was either Pier One or Kohls…I’m not sure. In either case, I recall picking up a pewter picture frame. There was nothing overtly eye-catching about it except for the size. It was 5 X 7 and I had the perfect picture to place inside of it. It was a picture of my partner – dazzling dimpled smile and all. I thought that this frame would look so good on my desk, but as I picked it up and looked it over, I had to ask myself if this were something that I really wanted to do. The frame and the picture were nice enough, but was I ready to take this step? Did I want to be completely out at work? After all, it wasn’t as if my being gay were a secret. I never bothered to hide it but I didn’t wave my preference in the air like the multi-colored rainbow flag either. I just assumed that some people knew and some didn’t.
Ironically, it wasn’t the people that knew that was of a concern to me. It was the people that didn’t. I knew from past experience that homophobia is alive and well, along with all of the other phobias that exist in our society. I can personally attest to just how mean-spirited some close-minded people can be. It’s taken me years to adopt a safe, healthy attitude about being true to myself without putting myself out there and making Jerome an open target.
At one point I was all for being in the closet and not talking about my partner at all, but that led to internal conflict within myself. How could I say that I was proud of who and what I am if I couldn’t even be honest with regular folks about my life? Besides, I didn’t like using pronouns to describe who I was with, and I liked it even less if I had to create a date for a company function.
At the other end of the spectrum, I also didn’t want to be so out there that I would only be known as the “gay” male who works in whatever department of the corporation that I happened to be employed by. Sometimes, when you’re part of a minority, you’re labeled by what you represent instead of the professional contributions that you bring to your job.
In one case, I remember a position that I had been hired for at a private practice in Bryn Mawr, PA. The owner of the practice hired me but before he did, he warned me that I was entering into an environment of women, and that women think differently than men. I had no idea what he was trying to tell me. Maybe it was the fact that he knew his staff and that I may not be a welcomed entity because I would be the only person of color working in his facility. In retrospect, hindsight is 20/20.
His office manager and I locked horns from the moment I arrived. Initially, I thought it was because she had nothing to do with the hiring process. The position that I had been hired for resulted in one of the young women who worked there leaving abruptly because she thought that she should have been promoted to it. That was just the beginning. Everything came to a head when I brought a dozen boxed long stem roses for my partner and placed them in the back room where they would be kept cool until the end of the business day. A few of my co-workers remarked on how lucky my girlfriend was to be receiving such an unexpected gift. I remember shrugging and mumbling something to the tune of “yeah – whatever”. This opened the door for more questions into my personal life – each probe I managed to avert like a pre-schooler playing dodge ball. Finally on a Friday afternoon with only myself and one of the doctors present, he asked me how my boyfriend was. I looked up at him from my desk and responded, “I don’t have a boyfriend…but if you mean Bernard…he’s fine.”
From that day forward, my situation took a nose dive. I don’t want to get into the specifics of what happened because this was an extreme case of employee mistreatment. I lasted there approximately seven months but left on my own terms. I wouldn’t leave the job without having another one to go to, and I was thankful that one came through relatively quickly.
After that experience, I realized why some men are inclined to be on the “DL” at work. No one in their right mind would want to go through any type of discriminatory practice exhibited by a boss, manager, supervisor or co-worker. And most of us I’m sure would like to be identified by our content of character and not by a negative stereotype we may represent to our superiors.
With all that said, I looked at this frame for about a minute. It would sure look good on my desk. And as I put it in my hand held shopping basket and walked to the check out counter, I thought that it would look better on my end table at home. Some steps just aren’t ready to be taken.
Ironically, it wasn’t the people that knew that was of a concern to me. It was the people that didn’t. I knew from past experience that homophobia is alive and well, along with all of the other phobias that exist in our society. I can personally attest to just how mean-spirited some close-minded people can be. It’s taken me years to adopt a safe, healthy attitude about being true to myself without putting myself out there and making Jerome an open target.
At one point I was all for being in the closet and not talking about my partner at all, but that led to internal conflict within myself. How could I say that I was proud of who and what I am if I couldn’t even be honest with regular folks about my life? Besides, I didn’t like using pronouns to describe who I was with, and I liked it even less if I had to create a date for a company function.
At the other end of the spectrum, I also didn’t want to be so out there that I would only be known as the “gay” male who works in whatever department of the corporation that I happened to be employed by. Sometimes, when you’re part of a minority, you’re labeled by what you represent instead of the professional contributions that you bring to your job.
In one case, I remember a position that I had been hired for at a private practice in Bryn Mawr, PA. The owner of the practice hired me but before he did, he warned me that I was entering into an environment of women, and that women think differently than men. I had no idea what he was trying to tell me. Maybe it was the fact that he knew his staff and that I may not be a welcomed entity because I would be the only person of color working in his facility. In retrospect, hindsight is 20/20.
His office manager and I locked horns from the moment I arrived. Initially, I thought it was because she had nothing to do with the hiring process. The position that I had been hired for resulted in one of the young women who worked there leaving abruptly because she thought that she should have been promoted to it. That was just the beginning. Everything came to a head when I brought a dozen boxed long stem roses for my partner and placed them in the back room where they would be kept cool until the end of the business day. A few of my co-workers remarked on how lucky my girlfriend was to be receiving such an unexpected gift. I remember shrugging and mumbling something to the tune of “yeah – whatever”. This opened the door for more questions into my personal life – each probe I managed to avert like a pre-schooler playing dodge ball. Finally on a Friday afternoon with only myself and one of the doctors present, he asked me how my boyfriend was. I looked up at him from my desk and responded, “I don’t have a boyfriend…but if you mean Bernard…he’s fine.”
From that day forward, my situation took a nose dive. I don’t want to get into the specifics of what happened because this was an extreme case of employee mistreatment. I lasted there approximately seven months but left on my own terms. I wouldn’t leave the job without having another one to go to, and I was thankful that one came through relatively quickly.
After that experience, I realized why some men are inclined to be on the “DL” at work. No one in their right mind would want to go through any type of discriminatory practice exhibited by a boss, manager, supervisor or co-worker. And most of us I’m sure would like to be identified by our content of character and not by a negative stereotype we may represent to our superiors.
With all that said, I looked at this frame for about a minute. It would sure look good on my desk. And as I put it in my hand held shopping basket and walked to the check out counter, I thought that it would look better on my end table at home. Some steps just aren’t ready to be taken.