You’re Christian, you’re gay and you’re going to burn in hell.
That’s the blunt way of phrasing the ex-gay message. Around for almost as long as the gay movement itself, the ex-gay movement for decades has spread good news: It is possible to convert from your sinful homosexual ways and save yourself from eternal damnation. Through spiritual healing, 12-step support groups and religious ministries, ex-gay organizations — such as Catholic Courage, Mormon Evergreen and Jewish Jonah — claim the ability to cure the gay man, making him straight or celibate.
In August, as part of an undercover magazine class assignment for the Medill School of Journalism, I flew down to Asheville, N.C., for the 26th annual ex-gay conference sponsored by Exodus, the largest Christian evangelical ex-gay group. Through the power of Jesus Christ and for a couple hundred dollars, I was given the opportunity to free myself from homosexuality. You see, I’m a “homosexual struggler” — that’s the box I checked off on my registration form.
The people at the conference were polite and pleasant. I was treated gently, like a patient with some sort of venereal disease. Never before had I seen so many piercings and bleached hairdos outside of a gay club. Our workshop instructors’ limp-wrist gestures and lispy voices smacked of queer. And yet, by attending such sessions as “Transferring Affections” and “Developing Healthy Male Relationships,” I was promised a cure.
Puh-lease.
Ex-gay logic tries to sound scientific, but fails. For example, Dale Davis, one of my favorite queen instructors, attributed homosexuality to abnormal childhood development.
“As baby boys, we should be looking around and seeing that we are not like our mothers,” Davis said. “We should look around and identify with Dad. That’s where, for most of us, we got a little off track — a lot off track.”
His best advice: Play sports and seek out heterosexual men to hang out with, just as he did, so I too can learn the true meaning of what it takes to be a man.
“Sometimes, just for fun, I turn on ESPN and let it play in the background,” he said. “Hey, maybe I’ll pick up a few things.”
For many men and women coming from strict religious backgrounds, trying to reconcile spirituality and sexual orientation leads them to groups like Exodus, which promise them a “normal life.” In a way, the ex-gay groups help these people come out of the closet, sometimes for the first time. But then the ex-gay organizations go too far, and instead of allowing people to embrace their sexuality, they slam the door shut again.
The American Psychiatric Association removed homosexuality from its list of mental disorders in 1973, but the treatments continue to grow with right-wing funding. Most professional health associations strongly discourage ex-gay “reconversion” therapy, calling it mentally harmful. Ex-gay survivors, or “ex-ex-gays,” suffer from severe depression, and suicides are not uncommon.
The ex-gay movement drags on, even though it’s based on based on divine rules and doctrines written by Bronze Age nomads. These people can spit out Bible verses faster than I can Madonna lyrics. They often say “God loves everyone,” and “God doesn’t make mistakes.” Then why do I have to change who I naturally am to please God? It’s as if my sexuality was a mistake.
So what is the strongest weapon against the ex-gay?
Truth. The more information that is out there about gay people who live normal, fulfilled lives, the weaker the ex-gay case becomes.
It is possible to live a happy life and be gay. Heck, I’m living proof of that.
