World Vision Shows Us That Positive Change Can Be Fickle

This past week has been a roller coaster ride for the LGBT* non-profit community. This past week World Vision announced that they were going to immediately recognize the same sex marriages of their gay and lesbian workers. They were quoted as saying

 “It’s been heartbreaking to watch this issue rip through the church. It’s tearing churches apart, tearing denominations apart, tearing Christian colleges apart, and even tearing families apart. Our board felt we cannot jump into the fight on one side or another on this issue. We’ve got to focus on our mission. We are determined to find unity in our diversity.”

World Vision is one of the largest  faith driven organizations in the world, working in almost 100 countries. This move wasn’t an endorsement, but it certainly had the potential of creating positive waves in the aid / relief community. Unfortunately World Vision backed out of this decision from overwhelming pressure and bullying from the political evangelical community. I probably should have seen this coming;I didn’t have dreams of grandeur. I didn’t think an acknowledgement of same-sex marriages would lead to every faith-based group to reevaluate their perception of the LGBT* community.

This could have been beyond huge. For too long Christian (and secular) organizations in the non-profit sector ignored or separated themselves from acknowledging the LGBT* individuals in their workforce. Challenging that separation through open acknowledgement would force people to at least look at their understanding of what it means for a queer person who is working toward similar goals. This could have been a time where Christian non-profits to look at itself, its staff, and its volunteers; World Vision had the chance to say that LGBT* workers are just as impactful as their straight counterparts, and should have equal footing.

Instead, we are shown that with enough negative pressure, positive change can be reversed. What could have been a great leap forward towards equality in the non-profit sector has become another example of discrimination and homophobia. World Vision’s mission is to “[work] with children, families, and their communities worldwide to reach their full potential by tackling the causes of poverty and injustice”. They had a chance to fix an injustice within their own organization. I hope someday that revisit this, and I hope that organizations while acknowledge that LGBT* aid workers fight poverty and hunger, work for quality education, and advocate for those who do not have a voice.

As a  diverse community, we need to focus on WHY we are doing what we’re doing. That is our commonality – what unites us toward making the world a better, happier, and brighter place.

You Need to Be a Better Person Than the Westboro Baptists and Fred Phelps

Fred Phelps was excommunicated from the Westboro Baptists and died this past Thursday; it has been rumored that his excommunication stemmed from a change of heart about Westboro’s message. Whatever the reason, they are various opinions on how the LGBT* community should react to Fred Phelp’s recent passing. While some call or a celebration, I hope the queer community falls more in line with George Takei’s message:

“I take no solace or joy in this man’s passing. We will not dance upon his grave, nor stand vigil at his funeral holding ‘God Hates Freds’ signs, tempting as it may be. He was a tormented soul, who tormented so many. Hate never wins out in the end. It instead goes always to its lonely, dusty end.” 

I know that the urge to dance on Fred Phelp’s metaphorical grave is extremely tempting. His group has been the face of hate throughout the United States. I attended a counter-protest of the Westboro Baptists at my Graduate school; Fred wasn’t there, but seeing the group across the street was enough to creep me out. While I don’t believe  in Christianity, I do know that the Westboro Baptists do not reflect peace and love that is supposed to be central in the Christian faith.

We just have to be better people. As a non-profit / aid works, do we ever get sustainable positive gains through being vindictive and cruel? Without love of what we do, our passion would fizzle out or be corrupted. We became humanitarians to put good back into the world. We need to be better people in all of this. Being joyous about someone’s death only brings more hate into the world.

We don’t gain anything from hate. Yes, there might be some initial joy after mud-slinging, but after that where does that leave us? Our hate does not change what Fred Phelps or the Westboro Baptists have one, and I doubt it will change what they decide to do in the future.

We are not Fred Phelps. We are not the Westboro Baptists. We are loving, caring, passionate LGBT* individuals who help our local and global communities.

At the end of the day, we are responsible for what we put back into the world. Let’s choose love over hate.

So You’ve Fallen in Love with a Non-Humanitarian

My girlfriend is terrified of going on airplanes, she absolutely loathes them. She certainly doesn’t understand how I fly 20+ hours at a time for my organization, or why I would that fly that far, or why I am so passionate about my cause. When it comes to a powerful news story, I’m the one crying and she’s the one looking at me strangely. I’m not saying she is apathetic and heartless, she is a very caring and loving person to her friends, family and me. Honestly anyone compared to me would appear at least mildly apathetic. Really, I am hyper emotional and empathetic.

Honestly, before I started dating her, I thought my ideal woman would be very much like myself- someone in the aid or non-profit sector, probably working in education development and/or with kids.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

I’m not saying that two humanitarians couldn’t have a successful romantic relationship, I’m sure many do. (I’m in no way shape or form an expert on other people’s relationships.)

I could write a 10 page essay on all of the things about my girlfriend that I love – but I will spare you (you’re welcome) and list out a few reasons why being with a non-humanitarian makes me better at what I do.

  • She balances out my emotional tendencies – which helps me think more objectively about my work and the world.
  • She challenges my worldview. We can debate and discuss global and domestic issues; we might not change each other’s minds, but perspective is definitely expanded.
  • She cares because I care. My work is important to me, so it’s important to her.
  • She tries to understand what I do. I can talk about my day and she is truly interested and asks questions.
  • She respects my passion. No, she doesn’t get it all of the time, but she respects that part of me and allows me to feel how I feel.

Like in any relationship, balance and respect is essential. Could I have found that with a humanitarian? Sure, but other humanitarians will have the same emotional hangups and the manic bouts of passion towards a cause. Which could be good for some people (again, not a relationship expert), however, I would not be great at it. Really, I just imagine us being in separate corners curled up in the fetal position.  How could we be emotionally supportive of each other if we were stuck in our own heads, worrying over the state of the world?

What makes being with a non-humanitarian so special is that she cares in spite her worldview. I get a peek into a different worldview and so does she. She helps me draw myself out of my head. She is my rock and my balance. I wouldn’t be the humanitarian I am today without her.

Help ALL of the People…?? Don’t Burn Yourself Out

I tend to over think things a lot. I won’t go into detail about my neurosis (you’re welcome), but one of my struggles within the non-profit sector is making sure that I don’t stretch myself too thin and burn out.

For example: In most states, the state that I live in is working toward marriage equality. I have tried getting involved and volunteering for the cause (actually have attempted to get involved in multiple states), but I never feel motivated to follow through and put all of myself into it. My head says DO IT while the rest of me resists. This dichotomy makes me feel extremely guilty – how can I not feel motivated to participate in winning my basic civil rights?

I would think that those who work in the non-profit sector outside of the LGBT* arena would  also feel guilty if they are not actively working toward their rights.  Should we feel guilty? Definitely not. We are more than just our orientation, and we have many different passions. There is no need to get burned out because we feel like we should be spending our energy on multiple issues. I’m not Super Man, and just because I am a lesbian does not mean I have to be an activist. If you want to delve 100% into education, water development, homelessness or anything else – you should! If you want to commit yourself to just queer issues – do it!

LGBT* rights are obviously extremely important, and participation is essential. But we need people who are fully dedicated to the work involved, not people who feel like they need  to participate to keep their gay card.

To be our best selves, we need to follow our hearts. We are educators, humanitarians, aid workers and volunteers. We are a complex group of individuals who are passionate about a plethora of issues. We are all working towards a common good – and weighing good deeds against each other gets us no where.

Working in Anti-LGBT* Countries

With the Prime Minister of Uganda  signing the anti-homosexuality bill into law I feel like I need to talk why I work in a country that isn’t friendly to LGBT* individuals. The country outside of the United States that I work in is not on the same level as Uganda or Russia, but it would be hazardous to be openly gay there.

It’s a complicated issue. I have heard professors, teachers, and friends refuse to financially support organizations that are working in anti-gay countries like Uganda and Russia. Which is very understandable.

I’m lucky in the sense that the country I work in isn’t extremely anti-LGBT*. Yes there is a culture of homophobia, but I cannot personally draw a line in the sand and say I’m not willing to work there.

Is there a line that we as gay humanitarians have to draw? I’ll give/volunteer/work in country X only if the government doesn’t discriminate against the LGBT* community and if there isn’t a culture of homophobia? Does a country like that exist?

Sometimes, it is hard to justify working in a homophobic country (especially to myself). Why work in a country that would kick me and my organization out if they knew I was a lesbian? For a lot of the LGBT* community – they wouldn’t participate, and that makes a lot of sense. Supporting your own discrimination does seem counter intuitive.

For me, my reasoning lies with the people I am working with, the constituents. I have an emotional connection to the families, children, schools, and communities. I am constantly reminding myself that the people are not the government, and the government is not the people.

I won’t be outing myself there anytime soon. I don’t want to find out whether people would still like and accept me regardless, and I don’t want the government to kick my organization out of the county. I guess that is cowardly.

Maybe I’m also naive – but I believe someday I’ll be able to talk about my girlfriend to the people I work with here and abroad.

Will I be donating to a Russian or Ugandan aid organization any time soon? Probably not. Will I give up my organization? Definitely not. What is driving me despite everything is the emotional connection I have to the people, the country, and the mission.

We all have to draw our line somewhere.

The ‘Hat Theory’ : How I Deal with My Anxiety in the Non-Profit Sector

Working in the non-profit sector means that you have to network, talk to volunteers, educators, constituents, and donors. A lot.

Right after starting my non-profit, I couldn’t talk to a new person without reminders to breathe. Speaking in front of people or with large groups of people was borderline debilitating. Even now, years later, my co-founder and I usually divide tasks into what requires talking to people, and what doesn’t.

When I have to talk to people about the non-profit, I do enjoy it- but it drains me considerably. I have tried various techniques and coping skills to help me through these situations, and I have finally come up with something that allows me to enjoy the networking and social interactions required of me.

I call it the Hat Theory.

The Hat Theory let’s me go into specific characters in specific situations. The hats in this theory are invisible, but if real hats work for you, great!

Need to talk to a donor? Without my hat I am extremely anxious and shy, but when I wear my Financial Hat (which I usually imagine as a top hat), I can answer any questions with enthusiasm. Need to present a workshop to volunteers? My trusty volunteer cap turns me into a pumped up motivator read to rally the group together.

Get the picture?

In a perfect world, I wouldn’t need my Hats. But as someone who has Panic Disorder, these Hats allow me to step outside of ‘myself’ to do the work for the organization that I have created and fallen in love with.

Being anxious doesn’t need to stop you from making a difference.

You just have to find the right hat.

Assuming Does Make You an Ass

Culture isn’t real- at least what most of us think of when we hear the word culture. The “homophobic culture” of a country (i.e. Russia) is not the entire country. Saying that there is only one culture in a country or geographic area is ridiculous. Yes, there are features that are unique to specific countries, but saying there is only one homogeneous American culture would negate the differences that the North, South, East , West, and Midwest are proud of.

I think it is getting better, but a large amount of the aid/non-profit/government workers still treat countries and regions as having one collective mindset. Going into City A with locked in expectations is counter productive to whatever your mission is.

Assuming that a group of people in any aid/non-profit/government situation has nothing to offer will also decrease the chance of your program making the most positive impact. We are not the true experts, and utilizing  every resource, even if it’s not an obvious one, is crucial.

I do need to remind myself of these things quite often: every time I travel, give a workshop or work with volunteers. Assuming that a person, group of people, or entire country hates who I am closes me off from creating the most positive impact.

I’m not saying that every gay humanitarian should tattoo the word “Queer” on their forehead, but putting every Russian, Ugandan, or American in the same homophobic box discredits the diversity of opinions that exist in humanity’s spectrum.

When going into a new location, we need to remind ourselves that politics and political agendas are not people.

And it’s not why we do the work we do. It’s the people.

Why its Actually a Good Idea that Clay Aiken is Running for Congress

I was pleasantly surprised when researching the topic of LGBT* politicians. I was not aware that all 50 states have been served by an out LGBT* member in some capacity, and 41 states have elected openly LGBT* politicians to one or both houses of their state legislature. REPRESENTATION!

But… on a Gubernatorial and  Federal level…

Only one governor has come out, and no openly LGBT* has been elected as governor or president. And there are only 8 out LGBT* members in Congress (Representatives Jared Polis, David Cicilline, Sean Patrick Maloney, Kyrsten Sinema, Mark Pocan, and Mark Takano ; Senator Tammy Baldwin). This is a record high; I’m glad that the number has increased, but with the United States having 100 Senators and 435 Representatives in the House, the LGBT* community is grossly underrepresented.

I think there are many obvious reasons for this (mainly homophobia and discrimination), but I want to talk about liability. There are many in the Democratic party who view backing an LGBT candidate as too risky, especially in swing states or in districts that lean Republican. Obviously in any election these places are risky. My guess, if someone isn’t going to vote for an openly gay candidate, they probably wouldn’t vote for a Democratic candidate anyway… especially one with “San Francisco Views“.

This past Wednesday, Clay Aiken announced his candidacy for Representative of the 2nd District of North Carolina. Regardless of how you feel about Aiken, if he wins the primary, it should lead to an interesting battle with Tea Party member Renee Ellmers. When in comes down to it, and openly gay man is running for Congress in North Carolina. That alone should help put future LGBT* politicians into the national spotlight.

Obviously the LGBT* community needs more than a white skinny guy from American Idol for representation in Congress, but he is certainly far from being the worst candidate that could be elected. (And he actually has a decent platform – mostly liberal with a touch of North Carolina politics).

As I have said many times in the past – visibility is the key to the LGBT* movement; true and diverse representation on the national and global stage is crucial.

SO LGBT* community – run for office! Be politically active! Be socially conscious!

We are NOT a liability. We should not be considered a political risk.

And shit… if Clay Aiken can run for Congress, maybe someday I can too.

Young and Sportastic – Visibility in the LGBT* Community

Honestly my first temptation was to rant about the lack of LGBT* representation in the State of the Union last Tuesday, but as I promised my girlfriend and my readers  last week , I won’t turn my blog into a rant fest. (Though I really want to… all I wanted was ONE ENDA mention…)

…Anyway, I want to focus on the increase of youth representation and LGBT* visibility. Many of the kids /young adults that are coming out are active in sports culture, and that’s fantastic. Between Olympians worldwide, and people like Conner Merterns in Oregon, many current players are at the forefront of the LGBT* movement. I can’t speak for the sports culture outside of the United States, but here in the USA the culture surrounding athletics could easily be compared to religious ideology.

The You Can Play project is an example of the decrease of homophobia in sports (even if it’s slow). I love that people are challenging what it means to be strong, and that LGBT* individuals can challenge current perceptions. But gay athletes in the Olympics, college sports, and major sports teams prove that being queer does not fit into a nice hetero-normative picture.

Queer kids can play hockey, football, baseball, or soccer. Go for the Gold (I mean just getting to the Olympics sounds pretty rad).

The thing that I think is the most important about this trend in sports is the spirit of athleticism. Pride in teamwork, hard work, perseverance, etc. are all lauded in American society. The LGBT* community are of course capable of expressing these virtues already, but having kids be able to see these virtues openly expressed in people like themselves is powerful.

Telling kids not only does it get better, but they are amazing, unique and strong in their own way is quintessential. Recognizing your own personal strength is one of the first steps into empowering yourself and making the world a more positive and better place. With more visibility in sports, it’s becoming more of reality for queer kids.

Visibility matters. We’re here, we’re queer, and we can be whatever we want to be.

An Experiment in Optimism – My Hope for the LGBT* Community and the Olympic Games

Last week I was originally going to post a very negative and rant filled blog. Luckily I have a  girlfriend who reminded me that this blog (for the most part) is to be a positive space for LGBT* aid/ development /government / non-profit workers. I’ll write criticism when it’s due, but I will do my best to focus on the good, or try to find the good in the rubble.

We all know the negative aspects surrounding the upcoming winter games in Sochi, Russia. I’m going to try to write my first (of several) posts about the Olympics as positively as possible. I don’t have rose-colored glasses on, but I feel like ignoring  possible outcomes that would be favorable to the LGBT* diminishes the ideals of the Olympics are supposed to be.

So this is going to be my idealistic hope for the 2014 Winter Olympic Games in Sochi:

  • I hope that everyone is safe throughout the games.
  • I hope that there are some great LGBT* athletic moments – heart warming and medal winning.
  • I hope that ignorant minds are changed. That people can see a gay Olympian as a hard-working athlete that deserves honor and respect. And if that person deserves respect, maybe everyone in the LGBT* community should be awarded the same.
  • I hope that Obama not going and by sending a LGBT* filled envoy sets a positive precedence in the United States and Russia.
  • I hope LGBT* Olympians get on cereal boxes and on Subway commercials.
  • I hope that gay, lesbian, bisexual, and trans* kids all over the world can see out athletes and know they aren’t alone.
  • I hope these kids also will feel empowered and inspired to become an Olympian, or work towards making a difference in their local and global communities.

The Olympics should be about visibility, world unity, and hope.

I hope that EVERYONE can experience these things in the upcoming weeks.