Pieter Tolsma, Brianna Matthews, George Gramer and Keo Frazier weigh in on this week’s question. Keo Frazier Keo Frazier “I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul.” A month ago this was my life mantra and my answer to this issue’s question would have been a very emphatic no. But recently I had a first in my career and life — I was discriminated against for being gay. In the history of my career I have not consciously experienced discrimination for being African American, nor for being a woman, and up until that point not for being a lesbian. Imagine my shock; it gave me a glimpse at what I haven’t seen and what had perhaps always been present — that quiet discrimination we wish didn’t exist.
A month after that incident, I can say I no longer know if I would’ve gone further with or without any of my check-the-box identifiers. I lead with the facets that make up my character and intellect. An old adage says that when you lead with what’s on the inside, people tend to forget their judgments about the outside. For the sake of humanity, I will walk through life with this as my truth.
I strive to be successful in all the things that I do. I will continue to do that with everything that I am, with or without discrimination and most definitely through it, to be above it. So, I am still the master of my fate and the captain of my soul. Keo Frazier is the fearless leader and founder of KEOS Marketing Group.George Gramer George Gramer Ironically, I went much further in my career than I ever imagined. However, I succeeded at the expense of any sort of social life in the gay scene. I remained closeted for my career of almost 29 years. There were many reasons I stayed in the closet — among them, I had periodic background investigations and was subject to frequent polygraphs.
There is no doubt I was successful — I reached the pinnacle of the power structure in U.S. government where perhaps only 1 percent of those who start the climb in government reach. I made 17 major moves around the world, survived a helicopter auto-rotation into a South Korean rice paddy (not a “happy face” event), was yelled at by four-star generals, worked at least 100 days straight at one point, and was up and in the office before dawn and long after dusk all that time. That was my life!
I was married to my work, my substitute for human interaction. On my evaluations they called me indispensable, imaginative, insightful and amazing, yet my personal life was incredibly drab.
When I was in a position of responsibility at the very start of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, I grieved over kicking qualified soldiers and officers out of the military. Democratic President Bill Clinton signed that law and I had to enforce it.
I gave up any sort of gay life for success, and I am OK with the trade-offs I made. Iowa native George K. Gramer, Jr. is the president of the Colorado Log Cabin Republicans.Pieter Tolsma Pieter Tolsma I’m fortunate enough to be part of an organization where I’m actually sought out for my gender and sexual identity. As part of the Denver ELEMENT I work with gay and bi men and their health, and I find that identifying as a gay man makes it possible to reach people I work with on their level.
That hasn’t always been the case for me. I’ve worked a number of unusual jobs from personal assistant to overnight nurse’s aide at a rest home, and the most difficult was definitely working on a dairy farm in rural Washington. Farming tends to be a bigger experience than just a job — it often incorporates family and eventually comes to define the laborer to a certain extent. As such, certain norms and expectations form.
While I am somewhat traditional in my desire to find a partner and have children, my openly same-sex partnered family might not easily fit into a community that so often relies on the help of others to survive. While I am sure there are farming communities that include acceptance of same-sex relationships, I feel reasonably certain that I would not have succeeded as an openly gay dairy farmer. Pieter Tolsma is the program coordinator of Denver PIQUE, a program for gay/bi young men in Denver.Brianna Matthews Brianna Matthews I really don’t believe my being Trans has held me back at all from doing what I wanted in life.
I spent 10 years in the Air Force and felt trapped in the wrong body back then. I had to stay closeted due to policy, but I think that if Don’t Ask Don’t Tell hadn’t been in effect and openly trans persons were able to serve, I would have come out then. I knew I couldn’t, but stayed in the military to receive career training.
I work in telecommunications, and that career choice is full of openly LGBT people. I felt and hoped that once I made the decision to come out, it would be accepted. We all face trepidation about the big reveal. I was no different. We hope our career choices aren’t affected by who we are.
Second-guessing what I wanted to do for who I am was not an option. I wanted to be a successful woman first above all else, and knew that I could probably get a lower level-job, but would it be what I wanted, and would it be what would make me happy, and would it pay the bills?
I had to work for it. I had to believe in myself, and believe that what I wanted to do for a living would make me happy, and that I had to be myself as well, and I wouldn’t settle for anything less. Brianna J Matthews is a 43-year-old post-op Trans-lesbian ready to take on the world.
