VOICES | In The Trenches
by Logan Lynn
The Pariah Pool
Being a community activist isn’t the easiest route to take in life but doing what feels right rarely leads to regrets. Speak the truth. Don’t be afraid.
Last year was a time of big sweeping change for me. I lost
two pieces of my deepest love to the great beyond, grew clos-
er to another human being than ever before, and let go of
another round of “friends” to superficiality. There seemed to
be a feeling layer of marginalization spread throughout the
year. Even now, in the second month of 2013, it walks beside
me, greeting me at every turn. The truth is, that particular
feeling and I have been walking hand in hand for as long as
I can remember.
Most recently, this marginalized feeling came from some members of the
queer community as well as some in the right-wing evangelical Chris-
tian community not agreeing with my inter-community dialogue work
between the Mars Hill Church and members of Portland’s LGBTQ com-
munity (as well as my very public comments and opinions about the van-
dalism and threats of violence which followed); it came from community
“leaders” who didn’t appreciate me stirring up the status quo; from the
tech community after an article I wrote about music piracy turned into
a full blown shitstorm; from the pro-gun folks in the wake of my speak-
ing out about gun control after the Sandy Hook tragedy; from every ass-
hole on the internet who commented that they didn’t like my face, body,
words, ideas, melodies — you name it; and from that old voice inside my
head that still always agrees with all of them that I am of no particular
value.
At times it can feel as though there is no break from the pressure. I re-
mind myself constantly that not everybody agrees with my position in
the world and that they don’t have to for it to be valid. To their credit,
I don’t always say or handle things perfectly… but I didn’t become an
activist to play it safe, and I haven’t. Staying true to what I believe to be
right is what matters to me, and I do not do the work I do to make friends.
At the end of the day, I’m willing for other people to disagree with me,
even hate me for my position, but I am not willing to hate myself for not
speaking out or for caving under pressure. The way I see it, if everyone
everywhere agrees with me at this stage in the game, chances are pretty
good that either the battle has been won, or I’m doing it all wrong.
To be able to stand for yourself and your dream of the world amidst pub-
lic pressure or extreme fear requires a particular skill set that is often
born from great hardship. Having to stand up to the cruel kids who
teased me growing up and the difficulties I had coming into my own
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as a gay preacher’s kid in a Christian cult were in some ways my great-
est teachers, preparing me for the very openly critical existence I have
known since I got signed to a record label at 17 years old and first entered
into the world of being myself professionally. I learned early on that I
have no control over what anyone thinks, writes, or says about me, my
music, or my work. I also learned that if I really want to be free, I have
to do what feels right to me no matter the cost. It’s not always the easiest
route, but I rarely regret having taken it.
RuPaul once said, “What other people think of me is none of my busi-
ness,” and I think there is deep wisdom to be found there. I have watched
strong people retreat from important work because of fear that their
reputation would suffer, and I’ve seen people with no reputation to speak
of roll up their sleeves and put their lives on the line for something they
believe in. At different times in my life I have been on both sides of this
fence, but I have never been very good at being anybody other than my-
self. When all is said and done, I would rather be in with the “losers”
who are changing the world than the so-called “winners” who, in my
estimation, are fucking it up.
The truth is the truth,
however inconvenient, and
I will continue to speak mine
as long as I am able.
Love me or hate me, what you see is what you get. I may not always be
who others want me to be, and I may blunder my way through unexpect-
ed landmines occasionally, but I am still on the minefield, still moving
forward. I will not be silenced and I will not be swayed by fear. The truth
is the truth, however inconvenient, and I will continue to speak mine
as long as I am able. In the long run, being popular is far less important
than being real. §
Join me in the pariah pool sometime, won’t you? The water’s fine.
Logan Lynn writes In The Trenches for Just Out. He is a Portland based musician, activist,
writer, and is a regular contributor to The Huffington Post.
Reach him at Logan@JustOut.com
February 2013