ifty young men all living, working, playing,
eating and sleeping together in one big
house. It’s the stuff fantasies are made of;
gay pom shops have entire sections devot
ed to the concept— fraternity life.
But when I joined a fraternity my freshman
year of college I wasn’t into all
that— or at least 1 didn’t think I
was. When I entered college 1 was
straight— at least in my mind.
Growing up in a military family,
I led a sheltered life and didn’t real
ly understand what it meant to he
gay. It wouldn’t be until three years
and a few “drunken hookups” later
that I would realize I was a gay pea
in a straight pod.
After pledging the same frater
nity as my brother at University of
Idaho, I soon realized my experi
ence was going to be considerably
different from his. I immediately
had a hard time adjusting.
Being in northern Idaho, I was
MICHAEL
surrounded by every form of butch
WAYNE
you could imagine: hunters, fisher
men, RO TC military men, but
mostly cowboys and farmers. And
here I was, this skinny little guy from Salem
who was into fashion, Whitney Houston and
Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman reruns.
The hardest part of joining the fraternity was
trying to fit in and find my place. I wasn’t athlet
ic, I wasn’t butch, and I certainly wasn’t into
farming. But I was a nice guy, a gixxl listener and
an open-minded person, and people
started to figure this out about me.
Guys would confide in me things
they didn’t tell anyone else. They
trusted me and valued the fact that
they could tell me anything about
their girlfriends, their families,
school or life and that I would
be brutally honest but never
judge them. Instead, I
would listen and try to
help them out.
They also loved the
fact that I got along
with and knew so
many girls. Being the
vivacious and outgo
ing guy I was, 1 knew
just about every girl
on campus. So I
became a regular
matchmaker, always set
ting up the bros.
I came to a point
where I finally seemed to
fit in. Everyone in the fra-
My own private Idaho
Being gay in a straight fraternity
temity was used to me and really seemed to
embrace my differences.
But by my sophomore year as I started to
attend more parties and dances, I became the
butt of verbal abuse from other students on
campus. “Faggot” and “homo” constantly were
being whispered and often even shouted at me.
Once a guy came up to me as I was walking
home from a party and told me, “If you weren’t
such a fairy, you’d get all the chicks.” All of the
personal attacks hurt so much that I would go
back to the fraternity house, lock myself in the
bathroom and bawl.
Whenever I went to other fraternities, trou
ble arose. Guys would see me with a harem of
girls, get jealous and try to pick fights with me.
“Who let the faggot in? What’s that pansy
bitch doing here?”
My fraternity brothers, who already had come
to terms with my “femme” ways, would get upset.
They would defend me, start yelling back and,
on a few occasions, even get into fights over it.
It got to the point where I was so paranoid
about what people would say about me that I
didn’t even want to leave our fraternity house.
It felt like shit having everyone talking about
me and assuming 1 was gay, but that was just
the beginning.
The toughest struggle came when I finally
started to realize that what they were saying
might be true. I didn’t want to be gay.
It’s weird the kind of tricks your mind can
play on you when you try to fight something.
During my sophomore year 1 even had hooked
up with a few guys from the fraternity, but 1
still didn’t think 1 was gay.
I told myself that they were just random
encounters we swore we never would tell any
one about and that “it was just the alcohol; I
normally wouldn’t have done that.” Looking
back, all the signs pointed to my being gay,
but I just didn’t realize it; denial is a strong
force, and so is fear.
I was afraid of what being gay would mean
for me. What would people say, how would
they react? Would I get my ass kicked by
some redneck?
Or, even worse, would I end up like
Matthew Shepard, strung up on some fence
post? I mean, Idaho isn’t that far removed from
Wyoming.
But death really wasn’t my biggest fear; it
was losing my friends. For the first time in my
life I felt like I really belonged to something.
I had taken many leadership roles in the
fraternity, had joined numerous honor societies
and clubs, had excelled in school and even had
been nominated for homecoming king. Sure, 1
was different from most of my brothers, but
that’s what was great about it; we all learned
from each other. It seemed they had accepted
me for who I was, but I wondered if they’d
accept me for what I was.
These were issues I struggled with during
the summer before my senior year, when I
finally came to tenns with my homosexuality.
When 1 went hack to school in the fall, things
were quite different for me.
I was out, to myself at least, and that sum
mer had provided me with many new experi
ences. I had gone to gay clubs and even dated a
little, but now that I was back in Idaho I felt I
had to keep it secret.
But keeping it secret made me completely
miserable. The closet isn’t a fun place to hide.
I constantly was covering my trail and
watching what I was saying and doing for fear
that someone would catch on. It’s hard not to
be able to tell your friends about something
that is eating you up inside.
The funny thing is that everyone already
thought I was gay. They had been accusing,
whispering and gossiping about the subject
since I was a freshman, so at this point it was
already old news. Except for one big difference:
Now it was true, and 1 was the only one who
knew it.
I finally hit my breaking point when, after a
night of drinking, I confided in one brother.
And guess what ? He was there for me, and not
just that, he was cool with it.
I felt so liberated I decided to confide
in a few of my other good friends, and
they also thought it was OK. They were
genuinely excited and happy that I final
ly was accepting who 1 was.
Everyone took it better than
1 ever could have imag
ined, and I graduated
last May with the
knowledge that
my fraternity
and college
experiences
were not a
fraud. I had lived
them the best way
1 knew how: by sim
ply being myself and
being who I am. JH
M ichael W ayne K eck
is a free-lance writer who
loves receiving feedback
from readers. E-mail him
at michaelwaynckeck
@ho tmail.com.
What it feels like for a girl
New book tells the flip side of the story
by
S ecret S isters : S tories of B eing L esbian
and B isexual in a C ollege S orority
Edited by Shane L. Windmeyer and Pamela W.
Freeman. A lyson, 2001; $13.95 softcover.
SECRET SISTERS
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his is a fine anthology of several dozen womens
stories of sorority life as the odd girl out, and
difficult questions are asked and answered.
Such as: If lesbians and bisexuals are good for soror
ity life, is that life also good for them?
The stories are arranged into five sections de
pending on the type of experience each writer had.
The last section contains accounts from straight
sisters who welcomed diversity in their houses.
O riana G reen
The thoughtful foreword is written by Califor
nia Sen. Sheila James Kuehl, who was summarily
ejected from her sorority when her lesbianism was
discovered. To us boomers, though, she’ll always
be remembered for the 1956-64 sitcom The Many
Loves of Dobie Gillis, in which she played Zelda
Gilroy, the first smart girl on television.
But an even greater value of this book is its
80-page resource section. It contains an explana
tion of the Lambda 10 Project National Clearing
house for Gay, Lesbian and Bisexual Greek Issues,
which provides educational materials and more.
The book also has a guide on how to use these
stories as an educational tool. This section is full
of advice on how to deal with all kinds of situa
tions, including homophobia on campus.
Certainly, the lure of sisterhood and a brand
new family have been and still can be enticing
to lesbians away from home for the first time.
But how can you fit into a group of mostly het
women and still preserve your integrity and
identity? This book goes a long way toward
answering that question.
Secret Sisters would be a useful book for a
woman considering joining a sorority or for any
one who works with college students or people
who just want to see if their own experiences
resonate here. No secret handshake required.