True Story of Personal Experience with Homophobia

Anonymous Male Speaker: “Hey Timoteo, you stupid-mother-fucker! I heard you’re a fucking-faggot! We don’t like faggots around here, so you better be watching your back, you little bitch – We’ll fucking kill you!

Chorus of Young Men: “FAGGOT!”

While attending Fort Lewis College in 1996 the above message was left in my voice mail. Around this same time, I recall a night out at a local bar in downtown Durango.

As I stood and watched a game of pool, minding my own business and drinking a beer, a young white man caught my attention; at first I did not hear what he said because the dance music drowned out his words. It was clear by his facial expression that he was being aggressive, pressed lips, a wrinkled brow, and pushed out chest made me alert to the danger.

I leaned forward and said, “What?” To this, the young man, shouted, “Are you looking at me? Don’t be looking at me faggot!”

The sad truth is that this was not the first time I had these words aimed at me. My life has been scared with instances of verbal and physical assault for being gay. As well, when I served as a volunteer with the Colorado Anti-Violence Project I witnessed on more then one occasion the horrific beating of men who were assaulted because the perpetrator believed he was gay. Under this kind of pressure, either you get good at hiding or you develop keen survival skills.

I put a serious look on my face, staring him in the eyes I said back to the young man, “Nope, not interested!” and looked away.

As I watched him in the mirror, I turned my beer bottle into a weapon and prepared for the next move. The young man was fuming with rage but he would not look away. We were both fortunate, his friend, who had been by his side, managed to talk him down, and walked him away into the dark end of the bar. I stood long enough to send the message that I was not being chased off, finished my beer, and went home.

The point of this story, homophobia has very real consequences that cannot be sanitized away.