THIS IS WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT - STRAIGHT FAMILIES STANDING SIDE BY SIDE LGBT FAMILIES TO FIGHT FOR LGBT RIGHTS!!!

Dear Reader,

I have to share this video. This is EXACTLY what the LGBT community needs! Straight families standing side by side LGBT families to protect marriage equality in Maine.

Click here:

Together (First TV Spot)

Do you part to help Maine! Don't let opponents to marriage equality do in Maine what was done in California. Keep LGBT marriage legal in Maine!

Thanks for reading.

Alan L. Bounville

An Actor Prepares and an Activist Persists - National Equality March is Coming

Dear Reader,

Some may say I am a bit on the Debbie Downer side with my writing. Well, yeah, OK I guess I embrace that. There is part of me that ends up with the 'feel good' sensation when I share poignant stories and information about the struggles of marginalized groups and their fight for equality. In the sharing I hope all my readers can be inspired to do what they can to continue bridging divides and forging forward towards a level playing field for all. So, for me sharing the bad does make me feel good.

As promised, this blog not only serves as a clearinghouse of stories, but as a place to explore the power of performance and performance material to change lives and minds. Below is a monologue I am working on for an audition next week. It fits right in with the goals of this blog and is a reminder of what it took during the height of the AIDS crisis for people to wake up and make change a reality. The monologue comes from Larry Kramer's play The Normal Heart. Kramer is a role model of mine. It is his integration of playwrighting, activism and other writing that is an inspiration to the work I do.

And more specifically, I share Kramer's approach towards fighting for LGBT equal rights. Kramer is quoted in this month's Advocate.com article Hope and History by Michael Joseph Gross. Kramer says about the fight for LGBT equal rights, "We are not here to make friends. “We are here to get our rights. And these two statements do not join together to blend into one happy halo."

While embracing Kramer's sentiments, I do hold to my original goals of this blog. I do want to hear dissenting voices - and understand them. I do want to attract various perspectives to this debate. But, I would be doing a disservice to the LGBT and supportive community if I did not continue hammering home the gravity of what this fight is up against. That is why I choose to continue exposing the uncomfortable stories that shape LGBT discrimination and hate - being a Debbie Downer. Though the dialogue will always remain open here, we all must realize that as in any fight for equality it is the gritty persistence that doesn't allow us to keep looking away. And like all fights for civil rights in this country, everyone must accept at some point the heat will rise to uncomfortable levels for all Americans until rights are granted for the marginalized group.

I believe we are on that cusp now in regard to LGBT equality. With movements like the upcoming National Equality March we are about to see what the LGBT and supportive community is made of - really made of. You don't have to be a political science expert to know that the pendulum of power in this country perpetually swings and the rest of 2009 is prime time to go after LGBT equal rights. I think there are enough smart people out there on both sides of this fight to know this fall brings with it a consuming fire that can only be extinguished by 100% equal rights for all LGBT Americans in all matters civil and criminal.

Supporters of LGBT equality like me will always do what we can to engage in the conversations that help change hearts and minds. But the time has come when the slow progress of niceties must be usurped for a while by bold action to claim the prize. Then, in the aftermath we can see who was there in the fight, who was beside the fight, who fought against equality and lost, who still fights against equal rights after the victory and who carries shame for not doing their part to be on the right side of history.

What will get each of us off our asses to get to the National Equality March? What will cause us to say now is the time to get real and realize LGBT and supportive Americans are in for the fight of our lives?

The following monologue reflects the public attitudes of the 1980's at the beginning of the AIDS crisis. In the 1980's and 90's LGBT people had a lot of motivation to get out there and Act Up. Gay men were dying from AIDS in droves and our governments were turning a blind eye while large swaths of our community were annihilated. The grief, anger and fear got LGBT people out there making lots of noise - and things changed. Governments started taking the AIDS crisis seriously.

Never forget, LGBT people die every day around the world - for no other reason than they are LGBT. Maybe this monologue will be a cold reminder of how the 80's were not too long ago - and how hate towards LGBT people is a constant today. We should all take the time to get outside our comfort zones and realize each LGBT person who is beaten, killed or otherwise discriminated against is one person a degree closer to each LGBT person and their loved ones. A bit closer to you. A bit closer to me.

Whether real stories or representations through art - I hope my continued sharing help minimize the margins for an equal future.

From The Normal Heart by Larry Kramer

"Bruce's partner has died of AIDS at a time when people did not understand the condition properly, and no successful treatment had yet been found. He is visiting Ned, an activist in getting society to accept and understand what is happening in the gay community" (Tucker, P and Ozanne, C. (2007). Award Monologues for Men. New York: Routledge).

"Bruce: He's been dead a week.
Ned: I didn't know he was so close.
Bruce: No one did. He wouldn't tell anyone. Do you know why? Because of me. Because he knows I'm so scared I'm some sort of carrier. This makes three people I've been with who are dead. I went to Emma and I begged her: please test me somehow, please tell me if I'm giving this to people. And she said she couldn’t, there isn't any way they can find out anything because they still don't know what they're looking for. Albert, I think I loved him best of all, and he went so fast. His mother wanted him back in Phoenix before he died, this was last week when it was obvious, so I get permission from Emma and bundle him all up and take him to the plane in an ambulance. The pilot wouldn't take off and I refused to leave the plane - you would have been proud of me - so finally they got another pilot. Then, after we take off, Albert loses his mind, not recognizing me, not knowing where he is or that he's going home, and then, right there on the plane, he becomes . . . incontinent. He starts doing it in his pants and all over the seat; shit, piss, everything. I pulled down my suitcase and yanked out whatever clothes were in there and I start mopping him up as best I can, and all these people are staring at us and moving away in droves and . . . I ram all these clothes back in the suitcase and I sit there holding his hand, saying, 'Albert, please, no more, hold it in, man, I beg you, just for us, for Bruce and Albert.' And when we got to Phoenix, there's a police van waiting for us and all the police are in complete protective rubber clothing, they looked like fucking astronauts, and by the time we got to the hospital where his mother had fixed up his room real nice, Albert was dead. (Ned starts toward him.) Wait, it gets worse. The hospital doctors refused to examine him to put a cause of death on the death certificate, and without a death certificate the undertakers wouldn't take him away, and neither would the police. Finally, some orderly comes in and stuffs Albert in a heavy-duty Glad Bag and motions us with his finder to follow and he puts him out in the back alley with the garbage. He says, 'Hey, man. See what a big favor I've done for you, I got him out, I want fifty bucks.' I paid him and then his mother and I carried the bag to her car and we finally found a black undertaker who cremated him for a thousand dollars, no questions asked.

Would you and Felix mind if I spent the night on your sofa? Just one night. I don't want to go home."

Thanks for reading.

Alan L. Bounville

What Happens When We Stay Silent?

Dear Reader,



Above all else we fight for equality because:

There were/was:

7 gay murders in December 2008
1 LGBT murder every 9 days in 2008

19 states do not report LGBT murders.

Keep the above in mind as you are talking to those who don't understand why it is so important we stay vigilant to achieve 100% equality in all matters civil and criminal in America NOW.

How would you feel if these numbers reflected African Americans? Please comment below.

Thanks for reading.

Alan Bounville

Speaking Out - A Correction - Exposing the Family Spectrum

Dear Reader,

I should clarify a few things I neglected to include in my last post. When I came out of my advocacy closet there were family members who were right by my side. Some telling me privately they fully supported LGBT equality and some, like two of my straight sisters who made their support public. (The sister referenced in the last post sent an email to the family after the November election supporting LGBT equality. My other sister seen to the right is known as San Diego's Fabulous Fruit Fly, always ready and waiting to flit to the front lines to fight for LGBT rights. Here she is seen marching along side the 2008 LGBT Pride parade in San Diego.)

My family is a mixture like any other. There are those who understand why fighting for LGBT equality is vital for social advancement and will get out there often to march with their LGBT family members. There are those family members who will do an occasional activity to show their support and shake up the system. There are those who will privately tell you, 'I'm proud of you. You're doing the right thing' but who won't let others know of their support. There are those who politely disagree. And there are those who will go to hurtful and unreasonable lengths to avoid dealing with the fact they are discriminating against one of their own.

Fortunate for me, none of my family are on the saddest end of the spectrum. None of them have disowned me. Maybe I have done more of the disowning of those most unwilling to hear my pleas because I can't stomach the feeling of being around family members who really don't get how their actions are hurting one of their own.

Maybe at that time later in life when my dissenting family members need me the most I will soften my animosity towards their hate and discrimination. When I see a loved one fighting for their life maybe I'll bend under the hopes that if I am caring and loving in their final days they will finally say 'I'm sorry I voted against your equal rights. I was wrong.' Maybe when they are breathing their last breath they will see we are all just trying to do the same thing on this planet - live and let live.

Thanks for reading.

Alan L. Bounville

Speaking Out - A Reflection and a Future Aspiration

Dear Reader,

A Reflection -

Late last year, after fully emerging from my advocacy closet, I spoke at the Central Florida Light Up the Night for Equal Rights event, part of the national Join the Impact network of events fighting against LGBT discrimination and hate on a renewed national platform.

Due to one-on-one conversations I had with my family members before and after the November election that wrote more discrimination against LGBT people into the Florida Constitution, I decided I would not do as my family would have liked from those conversations. I would not drop ‘the issue’ once I learned how many of them voted against my rights. I decided to come out publicly sharing my story at the Light Up the Night for Equal Rights event so others could know my experience.

I was very angry at my sister for asking me not to bring up this topic at family holiday gatherings. I gave much thought to this request. My sister, who supports LGBT equality didn't feel family events were places for such conversations. Further, she believed no one in the family was going to change their minds, so talking about LGBT equality would only spur on a fiery debate, detracting from the joy of the holiday season.

Such contention drove a massive wedge between my family and me. During this time it was a shock to my system to hear my mother say in support of her position to deny me my rights, "We love both you and Joey (a partner I was with for six years who the family knew and loved). We bought him Christmas and birthday gifts all these years." It hurt equally when my sister said, "For the kids’ sake. Please don't talk about equality at Thanksgiving."

Gifts are not enough – and for the kids’ sake I hoped they would have had the opportunity to get involved and learn both sides of this vital debate. The kids are living in a time I believe, that will shape civil rights for LGBT people throughout their entire lives. They need to know what is happening around them because as continuing pressures mount, they should be well versed in this fight just as children in the 1960’s should have known the gravity and circumstances of desegregation or kids in the 1920’s should have been fully aware of the fight for woman’s rights or prior to that about the abolition of slavery.

The issues of our world don’t belong to adults. For the children’s sake they ought to be taught about the vast differences of the people around them and what they can do to help promote equality for all.

Though I still believe any place is a good place to talk about equal rights, I see now that an alternate approach to using holiday time to discuss our differences might have been for me to hold a family meeting outside of the ‘joy’ of the season. I could have invited the whole family to sit down at a table and share my concerns on the issue while listening to theirs. This still could have ended up like some of the crazed health care reform town hall debates as of late where the opposition rants instead of carries on reasoned debate. But, to get your opposition in a room for the hopes of reasoned discourse is always the most honorable of goals.

A Future Aspiration -

I have to be honest; the day will come when I am in another long term committed relationship. I want my partner (or should I start calling him my husband - I think I shall) and I to know our union is as secure as any of my family's marriages. And when the day comes when child must be parent, as is inevitably the case, I want my family to be in full support of my equal rights so I can be in full support of them as they wane. It may sound harsh right now, but I am not presently inclined to take care of my parents in their final years or if they were to become sick today because they do not support my rights. My current stance is, 'My husband and I are not going to lay a finger on my ailing parents. My parents are not going to move in with us and burden us without first supporting our protections for equal access to the over 1,000 protections they take for granted every day.'

I would never vote against the equal rights of my loved ones. And it angers me still that they did so to me. And of course, in every case their vote was based on their ‘faith’; meaning the beliefs they espouse which are based on interpretations of the Bible given to them by their religious leaders. It really is unfortunate churches don't have 'Reality Check Day' to bring in people of opposing views on subjects such as LGBT equality so parishioners can see that the message from the pulpit is only one viewpoint on these complex issues that affect millions of Americans.

And families like mine should make an effort on their own to really get to know LGBT people other than the LGBT people in their family. The elders in such families couldn’t look at other LGBT people as they do their own – as ‘kids.’ (Thought I am 32 years old, we all know how older family members tend to always see kids in the family as, well kids. Which, of course cycles back to the need to elevate kids to be more active participants in the family and encouraged to share ideas and information in regard to cultural diversity.)

As you may be able to tell, I can't say due to this divide I am especially close to the adults in my birth family (except my sister - I believe she and I are starting to see eye to eye). And their discriminatory views are the reason why our divide persists. I guess they are content they will go on to their eternal reward not having the relationship with me I have always hoped for. We'll see where the future leads. I hope my family ends up coming around and ending up on the right side of history. If they do, I’ll be sure to celebrate such news here.

----------------------------------------------

Here is a link to the speech I gave late last year. It was given after Thanksgiving and before Christmas:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_GhKFTa6FO0

Thanks for reading.

Alan L. Bounville

PS I am working on another speech right now that will be submitted to the Equality Idol Contest for the National Equality March. If my three minute video is chosen, it will compete on You Tube as one of the top five videos submitted for the contest. The winner will be flown to Washington DC to speak at the National Equality March on October 11-12. Keep your eyes peeled if I get chosen to be in the top five. I’ll need as many votes as I can get to win. Once I complete the video I will upload it here first so you will get the sneak peek before voting opens.

Are Christians a Marginalized Group?

Dear Reader,

IBELIEVEJESUSISTHELORDANDSAVIORBECAUSETHEBIBLESAYSSOANDIMHAPPYASACHRISTIANILOVEMYCHRISTIANFAMILYMYCHURCHHOWMUCHLIKEMEEVERYONETHEREISHOWIKNOWWEFEELTHESAMEONTHEIMPORTANTISSUESHOWWEALLBELIEVEITISIMPROTANTTOPRESERVECHRISTIANTRADITIONANDBRINGTHISCOUNTRYBACKTOITSCONSERVATIVEROOTSSOTHATMOREPEOPLECANFEELASIDOIDONTWANTTODIEILOVETHELORDANDKNOWTHEREISSOMETHINGBETTERFORMEINHEAVENHEISMYROCKMYCOMFORTERMYEVERLASTERINGFATERHEHEALSMELOOKSAFTERMEIDONTWANTTOBEALOVEIWILLNEVERFORSAKEHIMFORWITHOUTHIMIAMBOUNDTOETERNALDAMNATIONIFEVERYONEWERECHRISTIANSTHEWORLDWOULDBEAWONDERFULPLACEHARMONYANDPEACHWOULDPREVAILIFALLPEOPLEWORSHIPEDGODTHEONLYGODCRIMEWOULDBENONEXISTANTICANTBEARTHETHOUGHTTHATIWILLNEVERSEEMYLOVEDONESAGAINONCETHEYDIEWHENIAMINHEAVENIWILLSPENDALLETERNITYWORSHIPINGTHELORDJESUSCHRISTANDWILLHAVEALLTHERICHESOFTHEKINGDOMIDONOTHAVEHEREONEARTHTHEREHASTOBESOMETHINGBETTERTHANTHISIWILLCONTINUETOTRUSTINTHELORDWITHALLMYHEARTANDLEANNOTUNTOMYOWNUNDERSTANDINGFORIAMSMALLINCOMPARISONTOGODMYVOICESERVESTOECHOHISWILLIWANTTOQUESTIONMYFAITHBUTAMTERRIFIEDINDOINGSOWILLALLOWSATANTOINFILTRATEMYTHINKINGANDLIFEANDIWILLSTRAYAWAYFROMTHELORDANDIDONTDAREDOTHATBECAUSE

IMAFRAID.

I grew up in the following churches:

St. Joseph’s Catholic Church, Worcester, MA

Latter Rain Christian Fellowship, Ashland, MA

Discovery Church, Orlando, FL

Pine Castle United Methodist Church, Orlando, FL

I attended several other churches. Some I forget the names of. All were of the Christian faith and teachings.

So, what I say here comes from a place of someone who has, like many non-believers once believed.

My experience as a Christian was what you see above. It was like a jumble of thoughts and feelings of joy that covered up some serious fears I didn’t dare address. How could I? If any of my afeared questions were to be true, how would I come to grips with such a grave reality? I often wonder, is what I experienced more or less universal among believers or was I unusually paranoid? My lifelong doubt led to a long journey away from the church’s teachings allowing me to separate the clamor of thoughts from the underlying fears I had so I could deal with each of them appropriately to make my peace. That’s how I became an atheist.

A simple search on the subject of Christian doubt reveals frustrating references to scriptures such as blogger Cheryl Stotesbery’s explanation, “Perhaps the primary cause is Satan (Genesis 3:1-6).” A more formal search produces doubt eradication reasoning like that of the American Baptist Church USA (ABCUSA). The ABCUSA includes doubt in their vision statement, but only to say, “The heart of the gospel is God's redemptive love. In our life together, the world will see the power of forgiveness to overcome alienation, the strength of love to transform hate, the power of grace to break the bonds of guilt, the triumph of hope over despair, and the victory of faith over doubt.” Again to a nonbeliever, this is frustratingly cyclical.

I understand the logic that relates everything good, bad, holy and unjust to biblical scripture. That is the whole point of using the bible as the primary reference point for all topics of faith discussion. What I don’t understand - and really would like some comment on (other than what I pose below) – is how believers can overlook the drastic changes in believer’s opinions of scripture throughout history? I know what the retort is – ‘Just because certain people used scriptures like Genesis 9 25-27 to justify slavery, doesn’t make those people right in the eyes of god. There are several scriptures that make it clear slavery is a sin.’

OK, so doesn’t that bring up a vital point when examining the bible? If a book is contradicting itself, how can you trust any of it to be true? Of course, to this I have usually heard things like, ‘I’m not going to talk to you about this. You’re not going to change my mind so just drop it.’

For a long, long time I did just drop it. I thought, ‘We are never going to see eye to eye so it’s a waste.’ And then as I found my own voice I realized just dropping it is part of the cycle that needs to be broken.

I am not influenced by Satan when I question the logic of believers. I am not possessed. I can’t prove that of course – just as believers can’t prove I am anything but a normal, logical person.

When I hear Christians say they are a marginalized group, that their rights are being threatened – I am thoroughly confused. They won’t engage me in a civil conversation discussing questions that to a child would seem obvious. What goes through the mind of the believer when you question what seems worth questioning? Do they really feel resolved that they are right and I am wrong? Or is there a schism where part of them insists what they hold to be true is true so they can enjoy the afterlife, see their loved ones again and have something to hold to that makes sense of this life while part of them is too afraid to face the possibility that God may not exist?

As a non believer, I want believers and non believers alike to question me. I invite that. Talking with others can educate me and make me a better person. Isn’t that one of the tenets of learning? Why would it not be applied to matters of faith? Wouldn’t having civilized conversations with people and answering all their questions help a marginalized group become more main stream?

Question for you…

Why do you believe/not believe in God? Please post your reply below.

Thanks for reading.

Alan L. Bounville

Would You Follow Me?

Dear Reader,

In an effort to build my audience (seemingly self serving, but read on) please sign up to follow my blog. Much of what I set out to do here is to bring these stories and thoughts to a broader audience. I am interested in finding ways to open the debate with those who support LGBT equality as well as those who currently oppose LGBT rights. Though adding my perspectives to the struggles and victories towards LGBT equality is something I hope inspires others, it is vital to keep exposing more and more people of varying viewpoints to the content posted here.

To follow my blog, please just sign up to the right.

Thank you for support and help to Minimize the Margins.

Alan L. Bounville

"I Want to Fire that Fucking Queer."

Dear Reader,

In 2002, I decided it was time to step out onto the public scene and join the fight for LGBT equality. One may think my home at the time, Orlando, FL has always been a progressive city where LGBT citizens are awarded full protection under the law. One may think this because Central Florida is home to vacation giants Walt Disney World, Universal Orlando and SeaWorld Orlando, all of which have very inclusive policies protecting their LGBT team members – or maybe I should say LGB team members. I’m not sure any of them are fully inclusive of transgender team members, something that needs to change.

But, Orlando was not in 2002 as open and inviting to LGBT people as city officials like former Mayor Glenda Hood would have wanted people to think. So a group of LGBT and supportive activists had enough. They staged protest speeches on the steps of city hall, sent letters, postcards and placed phone calls to city council and the mayor and worked with supportive city council members like Patty Sheehan and Daisy Lynum to introduce adding sexual orientation to the nondiscrimination protections in chapter 57 of the city’s code.

I remember going to the protest speeches outside city hall. That’s where I got fired up. That’s where I decided I had the power too – to stand up for my rights. I recently felt backhanded, under the covers hate on the job because of being gay. And timing couldn’t have been better for me to open my mouth in retaliation.

At the time I worked for Mobile Mini Inc., a national storage container and office rental/purchase company. In less than a year I worked my way up the ranks to be the Central Florida branch’s top sales associate. I was also quickly climbing the company’s national sales ranks. I was doing quite well.

During my tenure a new branch manager, Roy Ellis was promoted from an out of state branch. Roy had been a leading sales representative with the company for several years. He was in his 60’s, a heavy smoker, virtually computer illiterate and quite short tempered (mostly because he hadn’t the first clue how to manage those in his charge). There were many, many occasions when Roy would page me and ask me to come into his office to help him navigate an indecomposable Excel spreadsheet. Every time I would reluctantly go, sometimes taking more than thirty minutes explaining the most germane elements of the software. Each time I spent giving 101 lessons to my boss I lost valuable time on the phones earning my living.

Mind you, especially back then I had an opinion about everything. If I didn’t agree with a decision this incompetent man made I would respectfully voice my thoughts. This wasn’t something Roy wanted to balance with all the apparent stress he had to deal with due to his technical incompetence and clueless state of leadership. But after giving so much of my time to train the trainer I was doubly offended when a co-worker told me one day that due to the friction Roy and I experienced he vented to her, “I want to fire that fucking queer.”

I was stunned. I totally had one of those, ‘this can’t be real’ moments. I really didn’t believe it at first. I wanted to shrug it off as mere gossip. Then, in a conversation with another coworker who was also present when the comment was made I was reassured that this was in fact real. This was something I had to deal with. And though I had to accept this was said I remember not feeling much of anything. It was as if I knew to do the right thing I had to report this incident to human resources and have an investigation conducted but there was something inside me that automatically disconnected the comment from me. I almost gave him the benefit of the doubt – ‘He knows not what he did.’ And I think through all that ensued I kept part of that sentiment with me.

If I was black and he said “I want to fire that fucking nigger”, would I have felt the same way? Wouldn’t anyone who was the recipient of a racial comment automatically have a gut wrenching feeling? Why didn’t I have that feeling about his equally offensive comment? Don’t answer yet. I have an interactive activity at the end of this blog. Take a few moments there to tackle these questions.

So, yes I filed a complaint with HR. And yes, both coworkers who witnessed the comment along with Roy denied the incident took place (surprise!). And no, I had no legal recourse to pursue because Central Florida did not (and still does not outside the city of Orlando) protect LGBT people from such hate speech on the job.

Though I disconnected emotionally from the incident itself, I was inspired enough to get involved with the chapter 57 fight. I helped get a billboard erected across from city hall urging city council to vote yes. I spoke out on radio and television to educate the public and encourage them to make their voices heard. I did all this all the while knowing a. the inclusion of sexual orientation into the city code did not affect me and my situation because I worked outside the city limits and b. I was putting myself at greater risk of losing my job speaking out so publicly. I hadn’t fully internalized Roy’s comment, but I definitely was very afraid about speaking out. I remember that vividly.

I also remember vividly how I felt as I stood in front of city council the day of the vote. I was given my sixty seconds of comment along with hundreds of other citizens before our elected officials were to decide the fate of an entire group of people. I stared city council and the mayor in the eyes and nervously told them I didn’t want to live in a city that does not protect people like me. I was not asking for special rights. I vaguely shared that I was recently discriminated on the job, but I was too afraid to share with them the details of what happened. I just wanted to have recourse so if an incident like mine happened again I could have the law on my side.

Had I to do it over again, I would have told them exactly why they needed to include sexual orientation into the city code. I would have said, at risk of losing my job that two witnesses told me recently my boss said about me, “I want to fire that fucking queer.”

I leave you with this…

How do you feel when I say the following? Do any of these make you jump out of your skin more than others? And if so, why do you think that is?

I want to fire that fucking woman.

I want to fire that fucking man.

I want to fire that fucking spic.

I want to fire that fucking nigger.

I want to fire that fucking kike.

I want to fire that fucking queer.

I want to fire that fucking redneck.

I want to fire that fucking kid.

I want to fire that fucking grandpa.

I want to fire that fucking wop.

I want to fire that fucking dike.

I want to fire that fucking fake woman.

I want to fire that fucking fake man.

Thanks for reading.

Alan L. Bounville

PS Adding sexual orientation to chapter 57’s protections passed by a 4-3 vote. Now only if gender identity were added – and if all of Central Florida embraced the same overdue protections…

T-Minus Tomorrow to Tea Dance!

Dear Reader,

Tomorrow I embark upon a pilgrimage of sorts. Growing up in Massachusetts my family and I often vacationed in Cape Cod. Once per summer we would rent a house and stay in places like Hyannis or Dennis, basically towns about half way down the cape. We would usually go for a week or so and after a few days of beach hopping, go cart riding and barbequing six kids start to get a bit stir crazy. In the middle of one of our trips when I was ten, someone came up with the idea to go to Provincetown for the day. Right away I knew how taboo this day trip could be . . . and I couldn’t wait to hop in the car and get on our way to the very end of the cape!

Like any region where LGBT people are taunted, (oh, that would be everywhere) P Town as it is famously known was the source of hurtful fodder used against those who seemed ‘not mainstream’ at my school and in my community. It was somewhere out there, not like where we lived in Worcester.

So I had known about P Town growing up, but thought from what I had heard it was so far, far away. Way at the end of Cape Cod was this mysterious place where gay people ran free! They gathered in mass from what I understood and lived a lifestyle full of sex, frivolous laughter, alcohol and miniature poodles. Sign me up! Even then, at ten years old I felt drawn to this place. But with such a strict Christian upbringing I was instilled with feelings of guilt and fear, strong, strong fear about feeling anything but anger and resentment towards such a town. The religious oppression of my youth definitely made me feel confused about my natural feelings of excitement about seeing P Town.

Off we went. All eight of us packed ourselves into the station wagon to begin our journey. I remember my father seeming uncomfortable with the idea of walking into the land where men in cut off acid washed jean shorts hugged and kissed each other in public. He was squirmy when we all sighed with relief that we were going to get out for a bit and he seemed to tighten up even more as we traveled down Highway 6 to our destination.

When we arrived – well, I don’t remember anything! I actually only retain one memory from the actual experience in P Town. I somehow got separated from my family (probably intentionally when I think back on it) and wandered into a bookstore. We must have all walked around for a while before I slipped off. In the bookstore I remember secretly picking up a line art book on same sex sexual positions. I thumbed through the book so fast, absorbing every image knowing I could get caught at any moment.

Then out of nowhere my father walked into the store. I was able to put the book down a millisecond before he spotted me. He said with a stern voice, “C’mon. We’re gettin’ outta heah” (compliments of his central Massachusetts dialect). My heart jumped out of my throat, onto the floor, marched around the block in a pride parade before returning to my chest. Actually, the last part is a fabrication. I was so ashamed. I knew why he was so discomforted. I knew he wanted to leave because of ‘how gay’ it was in this place. Mind you, my father is supportive of me as a gay man now - to a point. I believe seeing me live a normal life has opened his eyes to the real lives of gay people. It’s not all cocktails and puppies for sure.

An aside - My father does not yet understand the importance of LGBT marriage, but with time I believe he will come around. He does not feel the affects of LGBT inequality first hand, so it comes as no surprise that he is not well versed on the issues that matter to me and millions of other Americans. Maybe if I get married some day he will have to face this final frontier head on and reevaluate his position.

Back to the story . . .

So, almost as soon as we breezed into town we were gone. Back to our rented cottage - to the beaches, rides on the go carts and cook outs on the grill.

This weekend I will be going back to P Town for the first time in twenty-two years. And this time, it’s on my terms. I will openly be enjoying all the town has to offer including its quaint shops. And I will keep my eyes open for some fun line art books. Who knows, after P Town I will be meeting up with a special friend in Niagara Falls. If I get my hands on one of these books, he and I may get to try a few new things out.

In closing, I say – yes, many LGBT people are comfortable discussing sex. As for myself, I see nothing wrong with being open with the importance of sexuality to my life. I would also like to share, gay sex, just like straight sex is only a part of what it means to be a gay person. But it is the physical and emotional attraction to a member of the same sex that gives people a clue they are not part of the majority. And places like P Town, Key West, South Beach, West Hollywood, etc., etc. etc. are vibrant communities where people like me feel very free to be all of who we are. Now it’s time to make every community a place where LGBT people can hold hands, kiss, open a bookstore and feel as at home as they do in these very magical pockets of our world.

Thanks for reading.

Alan L. Bounville

Four Down - Dream in Motion

Dear Reader,

I finally got out there today and in Florida-like summer temperatures and humidity delivered my first four portfolio packages to arts organizations here in New York City. My package to each organization included: my three page resume, my artistic resume, a DVD with video samples of my work and a CD containing a comprehensive PDF portfolio documenting my ten years of professional and scholastic experience as an event manager and theatre professional. All of this was assembled professionally using very theatrical, yet professional graphics (thanks to Joey Gomez).

Putting fashion in front of function, I wore a sleek, all black outfit as I journeyed through the city. Not too bright for a day such as this! I dropped packages off to The Julliard School, Roundabout Theatre Company, New York City Opera and The Public Theatre. I have several more packages to submit. Some are for positions organizations are filling and some packages are just going to organizations of interest. Now, mind you, I have no idea how much time I have this fall to devote to a job or internship. I may be getting ahead of myself, but its all part of the big picture so . . . I'll keep on keeping on.

I did get a call today from LaVie Productions (www.lavieproductionsllc.com) offering me an internship. LaVie Productions is a theatre production management company. Some of their clients include In the Heights, Sweet Storm (the show I worked on for a couple weeks back in July) and the New York Musical Festival. If LaVie Productions can offer me something that will help further my goals it may be a great opportunity. Again, time limitations may dictate just how much is too much.

I thought a lot today of what I wanted to write here. Traipsing through the city taking another step in the right direction brought about some important feelings. By no means will this blog be a day by day account of my life. That would overwhelm me more than balancing any job or internship with full time graduate school work. But my mind has started racing around material I am eager to share. As it pertains to this blog, I felt today's activities relates directly to my efforts to minimize margins.

I have been preparing these packages for over a week now. They are retools of what I submitted to New York University as my application package. Nonetheless, each package takes a considerable amount of time. After a lifetime of feeling like a person 'like me' - gay, not a great test taker, immature, irresponsible, remedial, etc., - all the labels assigned to me over the years by those who were oppressing me, I was ready for this step. Now, I could still fail. I could get zero response from any of these organizations. But I realized the same effort I have put into avoiding my dreams in the past pursing activities that did not fulfill my life's vision was the same as what I channeled into this project.

I did feel nervous at first as I dropped my first package off at The Public Theatre. And as I acknowledged the fear that is now part of my past, I walked in, calmly and deliberately and delivered my package, knowing I am good enough to be there. I was there and therefore, I belonged.

None of this post is to written to counteract a crippled ego. I don't write out of self pity. I share this experience because it has its rightful place on this journey. It is an important step to saying 'yes'. Though my road traveled may vary and I may not end up exactly where I think I will my sights are set where they should be and it just feels right.

Thanks for reading.

Alan L. Bounville

My New 15 Minute Play - Heir Apparent

Dear Reader,

I'd like to share the following draft of my most recent short play, Heir Apparent. I hope you see in the play the result of current modes of dominant cultural pressures and how they are subverted once enlightenment of the subjugated takes place.This play was recently submitted per request by Stageworks Hudson and is currently being considered for their Play by Play Festival of New One Act Plays. Whether the news is good or bad - I will report it here first once I hear back from the theatre.

And please, pardon the formatting here. It seems blogger has locked me into its left aligned format. Otherwise character names would be properly indented above their lines. As always, your thoughts are greatly appreciated.

Thanks for reading.

Alan L. Bounville

Heir Apparent

By Alan L. Bounville

Copyright © 2009 All Rights Reserved


CAST OF CHARACTERS

LORRAINE CASTOR – 17; Daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Castor

MRS. VALERIE CASTOR – 40s; Wife of Mr. Castor

MR. CHARLES CASTOR – 40s; Husband of Mrs. Castor

GRANDPA CASTOR – 70s; Father of Mr. Castor


(Lights rise on the living room of the Castor household in the mid afternoon of a warm late spring day. The Castors live in an Upper East Side penthouse in Manhattan. There is a slightly dated air about the place, as if some of the more costly furnishings are somewhat past due for replacement. A sweeping, ornate staircase is at stage left. Off stage left below the staircase is the kitchen. Upstage there are a series of French doors that look out onto a large terrace overlooking Central Park. On the terrace are a variety of vibrant flowering plants and small trees. Off stage right is the entrance to the apartment. Below the entrance offstage is a restroom. For a production that can not accommodate the above, a modified set can be an alternative. Lorraine Castor enters the apartment, somewhat quietly closes the door and runs up the staircase only to descend sitting side saddle on the banister. She wears a Catholic school uniform, 80’s style headphones and cassette tape player and hot pink book bag. As she makes her grand entrance, she is heard singing Otro Dia Mas Sin Verte by Jon Secada. As she slides into view Mrs. Castor enters from the kitchen. Mrs. Castor wears the latest fashions, but in the most vibrant of colors. What she wears is also light and flowing.)


MRS. CASTOR

Darling, Lorraine, must you?


LORRAINE

Must you?


MRS. CASTOR

Of all days. Grandfather Castor will be here momentarily and, well this surely won’t help.


LORRAINE

Maybe if you would be more understanding of my need and right to openly express the culture of my people you would appreciate its beauty.


MRS. CASTOR

That may be the case if you were Hispanic, but I assure you that it is not – even if I did have questions about your heritage at first. (laughs) Latin blooded you are not.


LORRAINE

(yelling) Racist whore!


MRS. CASTOR

Oh, you mustn’t call me racist.


MR. CASTOR

(He enters from restroom and speaks to Lorraine. He wears dress slacks, polo shirt and comfortable house shoes.) Oh, sweet pea you are home. Father will be here in just a moment. (goes to her and holds her hands as he speaks with beloved sincerity) Thank you from the bottom of my heart for being here today. You are loved, cherished and the most important person in the world. You can do no wrong.


MRS. CASTOR

(looking heavenward then out to the terrace as she speaks to Mr. Castor) Charles, doesn’t the terrace look lovely this year? And the park beyond? I couldn’t be more proud of my handiwork. What do you think?


MR. CASTOR

(breaking away from Lorraine) Yes my love. The direction you gave to ‘the help’ has given me years of stress free living I may not have had otherwise. Now, both of you come here. (Mrs. Castor meets Mr. Castor as Lorraine runs up the staircase just to slide down the banister again, singing a different section of the same song as before. He enthusiastically applauds. Lorraine goes to Mr. Castor’s side, receiving a delicate peck on the forehead.) My angel. Or should I say mi angel. You sure know how to make an entrance.


LORRAINE

It is important you feel the energy that is the pulse of my people.


MR. CASTOR

I have no idea what that means, but I love your dramatic flair. That’s what makes you a Castor I suppose – but a special one indeed.


MRS. CASTOR

(awkwardly getting between the two) OK. What is it dear?


MR. CASTOR

Yes, well. When Father arrives I want you both to show some patience with him. As he’s aged, well, he tends to do as people do when they age. And he may say or do some things that seem off a bit. Just entertain his flow as best you can and all will be just fine.


LORRAINE

Yes Father.


MR. CASTOR

Thank you.


LORRAINE

Now, may I be excused in preparation for Grandfather’s visit?


MRS. CASTOR

Oh dear.


MR. CASTOR

Of course you may be. (Lorraine ascends the staircase singing the last few lines of the song.)


MRS. CASTOR

Charles?


MR. CASTOR

Yes Valerie.


MRS. CASTOR

Thank you.


MR. CASTOR

(looking away) I don’t see any other choice we have with the way you spend –


(The doorbell is heard. It is an obtrusive sound, clearly too loud for the space. Mr. Castor goes to answer the door as Mrs. Castor goes out onto the terrace.)


GRANDPA CASTOR

(from offstage) Good day to you boy!


MR. CASTOR

Father. Come in. So good to see you.


GRANDPA CASTOR

(He enters followed by Mr. Castor. He wears comfortable yet dated clothing.) What a beautiful day for being transported to ones son’s house. This is the day the Lord has made. Let us be glad and regain conscience. (pause) Or is it consciousness?


MR. CASTOR

(leading Grandpa Castor to the couch) Father, please come and sit.


GRANDPA CASTOR

(sitting) What do you have to drink around these parts? I’m parched beyond parched.


MR. CASTOR

Just one minute. (calling towards terrace) Valerie. Could you come in here please?


MRS. CASTOR

(enters with a flourish) Oh my, I didn’t realize Grandfather would be here so soon. I was just slaving away on the terrace. Plants don’t grow themselves you know.


(There is an awkward moment. Then Lorraine descends the staircase. This time Lorraine is dressed in full drag king regalia. ‘He’ holds a boom box on his shoulders that plays Jailhouse Rock by Elvis Presley. Lorraine slides down the banister and goes right to Grandpa Castor and lip syncs the song to him.)


MRS. CASTOR

Dear heavens.


GRANDPA CASTOR

(clapping away with a child–like smile on his face) This is fantastic! You’ve hired a jester.


LORRAINE

(turning music off) Grandpa, it’s me Lorraine.


GRANDPA CASTOR

(confused for a moment which brings about a touch of gravity to the room, then jubilantly) Ha! My dear shape shifter. Come sit on Grandpa’s lap.


LORRAINE

(sits on his lap, takes off wig she wears and places it on his head) I love you Grandpa.


GRANDPA CASTOR

I too love you, more than most. (sees Mrs. Castor) Can I have my drink now?


MRS. CASTOR

Oh dear, I’m so sorry. (exits into the kitchen)


GRANDPA CASTOR

Where is all the help?


MR. CASTOR

Lorraine, darling, please could you go get washed up for dinner?


LORRAINE

(standing as she kisses Grandpa Castor on the forehead and adjusting the wig) Certainly. (She exits with the boom box as if she has an idea.)


MR. CASTOR

(uncomfortably lying) We decided to let the help take a day off.


MRS. CASTOR

(enters) Here you are Father. A fresh Arnold Palmer.


GRANDPA CASTOR

That’s an oxymoron.


MRS. CASTOR

(all laugh) Well, I do hope you enjoy.


GRANDPA CASTOR

As long as you didn’t put too much arsenic in it, I’m sure it will sit just right. (He takes a sip and pretends to choke. Mrs. Castor gasps.) Nope, not enough. (This time only Mr. Castor and Grandpa Castor laugh.) Where is the head?


MR. CASTOR

(pause) Father . . . (looks at Mrs. Castor with a hint of guilt and sadness) Ah, right this way. (He leads Grandpa Castor to the restroom.)


MRS. CASTOR

(She goes offstage towards the entrance to the apartment and is heard opening and closing a drawer. She enters with a stack of legal documents.) Charles.


MR. CASTOR

Yes dear. (sees paperwork) Oh dear.


MRS. CASTOR

It is time.


MR. CASTOR

I’m not sure. I mean, look at him. I just don’t think –


MRS. CASTOR

(showing dominance) This is not debatable.


MR. CASTOR

But Valerie –


MRS. CASTOR

This has to be done. (Mr. Castor walks to the terrace and looks out upon the park.) Or we loose it all.


MR. CASTOR

If you didn’t –


MRS. CASTOR

(motioning up the stairs) If you didn’t –


MR. CASTOR

She is our daughter.


GRANDPA CASTOR

(offstage singing) Sailing, sailing, sailing the ocean blue. Barney loves me and I love you.


MRS. CASTOR

What in the –


MR. CASTOR

Father? Is everything OK?


GRANDPA CASTOR

(coming out of the bathroom, his shirt and hands dripping wet) Something isn’t quite right in there.


MR. CASTOR

Father, what did you do?


GRANDPA CASTOR

I used the helm, ah head. Then I washed clean. Except everything was all backwards. Your sink is awful low and toilet equally high.


MRS. CASTOR

(moved by this) Oh Father, please don’t say that you –


MR. CASTOR

(He shares a moment with Mrs. Castor. As he says the following, Mrs. Castor briefly glances at the paperwork showing a feeling of guilt.) Father, do you understand what you did?


GRANDPA CASTOR

(irritated) I used the head.


LORRAINE

(sliding down the banister dressed as a scantily clad dominatrix singing along with the boom box the following section of Love Dominates by Dynamix) I’ll be the one, oh oh. Dominate this love, oh, oh. I’ll be the one, oh oh. Dominate this love oh oh.


(Grandpa Castor starts clapping along. Mrs. Castor puts the paperwork down on the couch and gasps in horror. Mr. Castor is at first taken back, but decides to join Grandpa Castor in clapping along.)


LORRAINE CONT.

(producing a whip and snapping it about the space singing to each of them, especially her parents) Let me show you my words can burn. Honey, can’t you see? I am no little princess. All you got to do is release your fear. Let your real self, come into the light. Don’t stop oh oh, don’t talk oh yeah, sit down uuh, and do as I say. Don’t stop right now, don’t talk oh no, sit down uuh yeeeeah, and do as I say.


MRS. CASTOR

(turning off boom box and yelling) What the hell is going on here? (pause) This is the most absurd of all your antics!


LORRAINE

(yelling back) I’m expressing my individuality! Something you do all too often!


MRS. CASTOR

What are you talking about? I’m the most unindividual individual I know.


LORRAINE

You, running all around this place like you are the center of the Upper East Side universe.


MRS. CASTOR

Oh, Lorraine, you’re mad is what you are.


LORRAINE

I’m an angst ridden youth. But I’m more grounded than any of you.


MRS. CASTOR

Why? Why do you have to make everything a spectacle? What is in it for you?


LORRAINE

You think I don’t know what is going on around here?


MRS. CASTOR

Oh, daughter, don’t be ridiculous.


MR. CASTOR

Valerie. Let our angel express herself.


MRS. CASTOR

Oh, give it up Charles. You think this is expressing herself?


GRANDPA CASTOR

It’s something.


MRS. CASTOR

(She looks at Grandpa Castor and realizes he is still wearing the wig. It’s as if all of the sudden her eyes are turned on.) Father, please take that off your head.


GRANDPA CASTOR

You leave me and my hat alone. Charles, you know I’ve always said –


MR. CASTOR

(He puts his hand over Grandpa Castor’s mouth and leads him to sit on the couch while Grandpa Castor continues to indecipherably finish his thought. Mrs. Castor goes and looks out over the terrace. She begins to lightly weep.) Father –


(long pause)


MRS. CASTOR

I already know how he – you all feel. I’m all too aware.


MR. CASTOR

(softly) Valerie –


MRS. CASTOR

What have I done?


LORRAINE

Spent all your family inheritance only to yet again have Grandpa over for one of your sponging visits.


MRS. CASTOR

No, what have I done? Managed a staff to make a life for us here (turning to them) only for all of you hate me for it.


LORRAINE

No one asked for any of this.


MRS. CASTOR

(not hearing Lorraine) Your father needs you to be in the best schools. You practically have Broadway size budgets with all these goings on.


LORRAINE

(looking around the room) Who are you talking to? You don’t fool anyone. Mother, what country did you have to visit last week? Or the week prior? How many closets in this penthouse are housed with your wares?


MRS. CASTOR

You ungrateful, insensitive, insolent –


LORRAINE

Insipid, soulless, piteous woman.


GRANDPA CASTOR

I do enjoy family day.


MR. CASTOR

(to Mrs. Castor) Please, can we please not fight?


MRS. CASTOR

A fight goes both ways. There are two of us standing here, you know.


MR. CASTOR

You know what I mean my love.


MRS. CASTOR

My love – I know we have been on separate roads heading away from each other since I had my one indiscretion. That’s when this all started.


MR. CASTOR

Why would you – oh Valerie, this is in poor form.


MRS. CASTOR

I’ve tried to make up for it for two decades, by keeping up all of this. But you made your choice. Do you know how much it pains me to know my replacement came from my own womb?


MR. CASTOR

That is not at all (pause) entirely true.


LORRAINE

I’ll say it again – who is asking for all of this?


MRS. CASTOR

(to both of them) What?


MR. CASTOR

I was angered beyond words over what you did. But, I put forth the best effort to forgive.


LORRAINE

Yes, I get how the best schools may help my future, but the rest is not essential, for me.


MR. CASTOR

Or me. I didn’t work for any of this. I know what feeling unaccomplished is like. But your airs must be maintained or else I fear it will end up just Lorraine and I. And I can’t bear that thought.


LORRAINE

It’s been that way anyway. Mother, you walked away too. And, why maintain anything?


MRS. CASTOR

You think I enjoy all of this?


MR. CASTOR AND LORRAINE

Well, yes.


MRS. CASTOR

Well, I don’t. Maybe I’m just hiding. Maybe I’m suffering extreme boredom. Maybe once you get caught up in being ‘someone’ so everyone knows who you are you don’t know who you are anymore. Who you want to be. But the expectations are there so you have to maintain. You have to keep that up otherwise . . .


GRANDPA CASTOR

You make a choice. You’ve been caught up like this for years. It’s about time you grow some balls and become your own fucking woman.


(Mr. and Mrs. Castor are taken off guard while Lorraine laughs and cracks her whip. Lorraine goes to the couch and sits next to Grandpa Castor. As she sits, she unknowingly moves the legal papers towards him. During the following he starts to quietly read the papers.)

LORRAINE

Your own fucking woman. But not blowing the family inheritance on numbing yourself to play dress up and jetsetter. Stop hiding.


MRS. CASTOR

This coming from our leather clad princess.


LORRAINE

This is who I am. That’s why you can’t stand me.


MRS. CASTOR

Lorraine, I can stand you. I just choose not to – because (long pause as she realizes the old excuses don’t work) because you’re right. And I want to make you happy like your father does. And I want to be part of your inner circle.


LORRAINE

Then just give it all up. We’re right here, waiting.


MR. CASTOR

Sweet pea, maybe it’s the leather or the whip, or maybe something else, but I have to say you’ve certainly come into your own. A fine young woman. (to Mrs. Castor) And we can all just let this go and accept our fate. The economy and our spending have crippled us and this (looking subtly towards Grandpa Castor) is not the solution. I won’t resent you for pushing this because I see my part in it now. I could have done better. (He goes to Mrs. Castor and they embrace.)


GRANDPA CASTOR

What the fuck is this?


(pause)


LORRAINE

Grandpa, let me see those. (taking papers and looking them over then in shock) What? Father, how could you allow this?


MR. CASTOR

I know. It’s –


GRANDPA CASTOR

High Top Robbery.


LORRAINE

That’s highway robbery.


GRANDPA CASTOR

(looking at Lorraine for a moment as if he does not recognize her) That’s one hell of an outfit missy. (catching himself, pause) Granddaughter, I’m, I’m . . .


LORRAINE

(to Mr. and Mrs. Castor) You were going to have him sign over everything just so you could –


MR. CASTOR

Give me those. (grabs papers from Lorraine and proceeds to tear them up) Not any more. (Mrs. Castor reaches out for the papers a bit in shock then catches herself.) We’re going to figure it out.


GRANDPA CASTOR

No – you’re part right.


MR. CASTOR

Father?


GRANDPA CASTOR

(pause) I know what’s happening when I know it’s happening. I’ll sign over control of the estate, with some provisions of course.


MRS. CASTOR

Father, we can’t –


GRANDPA CASTOR

You won’t have to. Lorraine, though these two seem to have learned some lessons here today, you’re the only one of the bunch I trust.


LORRAINE

Oh, I don’t know I’d go that far.


MRS. CASTOR

No, Grandpa’s right. There will have to be some major decisions made in the next few years. Your father and I can do all the legwork, but you can have the final say. Maybe that’s the best way to –


MR. CASTOR

To bring us back to where we need to go for the future. A family we can all trust.


MRS. CASTOR

A less pressurized place. When we – I didn’t care so much about airs.


MR. CASTOR

And I balanced my affections.


LORRAINE

(pause, showing a softness and genuine appreciation) Wait. (runs upstairs)


MRS. CASTOR

I don’t think I can take anymore. (collapses next to Grandpa Castor, looks at him and takes the wig from his head and puts it on her own)


GRANDPA CASTOR

The color suits you.


(They all laugh as an obnoxiously loud sousaphone is heard from upstairs. Lorraine descends playing Stars and Stripes Forever! by John Philip Sousa. Lorraine is wearing a band uniform jacket over her dominatrix outfit and hat. She holds a snare drum, drumsticks, a set of symbols and a trumpet. She begins to march around the space and pass out the instruments. Grandpa Castor receives the symbols. Mr. Castor is given the snare drum and drumsticks. Mrs. Castor grabs the trumpet. All march behind Lorraine and play along to the best of their abilities. At the end of the song they sustain the final note for a moment past a blackout.)


END OF PLAY

Lee Corso's Racist Comment

Dear Reader,

I'd like to share a true story of something that happened several years ago. A story that, not for the first time, but in one of the most blatant ways showed me how much discrimination and hate against African Americans exists in the minds of the business leadership in Orlando, FL.

Up until recently, I was living and working in Orlando. Over the past decade I have worked there for various organizations in various capacities - basically, doing the best I could to get ahead as a marginalized person. For most of that time I was afraid. Afraid of working in a state that didn't value my equality as a gay person and afraid because those who 'managed' me seemed to more times than not ignore my plight and instead play into the unconservative (They would call themselves conservative, but really, what are they conserving?) hands of the business elite in the community.

While working for a creative agency in 2003-2004 I attended many mandatory Greater Orlando Chamber of Commerce networking events. This story takes place at one such event sponsored by the chamber and produced by a now defunct organization known as Breakfast Club of America, LLC.

The goal of Breakfast Club of America LLC was to provide high level networking opportunities with the business elite in Central Florida. The price tag for membership - $10,000. The hook - networking with other elite business people while having access to a sports celebrity guest speaker at each of their events. The business model - elite business people like sports figures and therefore this would appeal to the most elite leaders in the community. I shall not use this post to go into detail on the clearly discriminatory claim behind this business model. We can only be grateful the organization went out of business.

The organization I worked for was able to finagle a business membership in trade for producing a marketing video and some other creative materials for Breakfast Club of America. This business trade granted me, the one and only sales associate for the company access to the other members of the organization in hopes I would build relationships with them and acquire them as new clients for the company.

Oh joy of joys! I got to schmooze with the good ole boys! I got to kiss their asses in order to pay my rent. Wasn't I just the privileged one?

Now, mind you I had suffered discrimination on the job at this point from a previous employer. (I'm sure that story will be told at some point.) And I had seen how many Orlandoans felt about giving LGBT people employment protection within the city a few years prior. But I had no direct knowledge of any of these Breakfast Club of America members’ views against LGBT people or other marginalized groups. Having been taunted by the sports types as a kid, I figured the sports affiliated business leaders who were part of this networking group were the grown up version of my past oppressors. I admit I judged a whole group based on who they 'seemed' to be like. That is not right. But as it turned out, my correlations between the marginalizing forces of middle and high school jocks, a past white male employer and certain citizens in Orlando that ‘looked like’ these people was as it turns out not without some comment on white culture in Central Florida.

Back to the event. I did what I always did at these things. I worked the room, meeting as many people as I could before settling with the group that seemed at the top of the heap. This was a buffet style after work happy hour event set up in a country club banquet room. I networked by butt off, ate a bit of food and then sat with sports commentator and special guest, Lee Corso and some members of the organization. I have no recollection of the body of conversation these white men engaged in. All I remember is what happened next.

As I sat, the men were well into a discussion about, you guessed it - sports. I was not even recognized as I joined their happy circle, something that is always odd, but not particular concerning. Then, in a random comment in regard to athletes, Lee Corso compared some African American athletes to "porch monkeys." The table, sans me provided a knowing laugh, as if they were in on some fraternal secret. Then, by identifying eyes it was realized by the group a young, professional African American female was sitting at the table next to us. And finally, a mention, I don't remember by whom, expressing gratitude there wasn't a microphone nearby, which there could have been since one was used earlier in the evening.

I sat speechless, questioning if what I heard was REALLY just said. I couldn't believe it was true. But, as I sat there in confusion and shock I had to accept the fact that this did just happen. Then, as this realization sunk in, I had to grapple with what my response should be. I wasn't going to stand by and let this incident go unpunished. And as I thought of what I was going to say to combat this blatant hate, I thought of my African American niece and how this comment, if made about her would make me want to jump across the table. I found my speechlessness and anger yielding to...more speechlessness and anger. And then, as I was building the courage to confront this head on, I became afraid. Afraid of standing up to these goons and being treated as I was in front of the jocks of my youth. Afraid that the delicate balance known as ‘me making a living in a hostile environment’ could be disrupted to the point where I would easily be the outcast of this whole organization. Afraid of the place I had never gone - the place that says my voice is as loud as yours and will be heard.

I still ask myself, if I were a straight man who saw the injustice of this comment would I have said something to show my dissent? Would I have felt any kind of bullying memories weighing on me during my moment of inaction? Or, out of modes of survival, would I have done the same thing - nothing?

It is not enough that I am sharing this experience now after all this time. It doesn't erase the fact that I didn’t stand up for plurality. That I didn't stand up for my loved one who is part of the group they were marginalizing. And still, after all this time I question - am I only speaking out on this now because I feel safe that the powers that be in Orlando have no control over my voice anymore or that I can say what I want to whom I want without fear of losing my job due to being seen as a polarizing activist?

Even my most recent job was with an organization that may be refusing to embrace a heightened understanding of multiculturalism. Depending on what this unnamed organization does or does not do in the near future will determine how I speak of my experiences working there. If I publicly shared this Lee Corso story while at my last job would I have put myself at risk?

In an attempt to see if Lee Corso has his own Facebook page, (Because isn't that what we do when we want to get to know someone these days - send them a friend request?) I found a Lee Corso individual member who may be the actual Lee Corso. I sent him a friend request. If it the actual Lee and he does accept my request I'll be sure to share this blog post with him. If you happen to have a connection to Lee, I would be more than interested in following up to make sure he knows his racist comment wasn't forgotten and is now out there for all to see.

And who knows, maybe a beer between Lee and I would clear the air like it did as of late between Professor Gates and Sgt. Crowley. Except, I would say to him, having been there and knowing all the facts that Lee did indeed act stupidly. And in case anyone asks, I would probably have a Bud Light. Maybe, just maybe the new Bud Light Lime.

Some Facebook group names involving Lee Corso I uncovered in my search, some offensive, some funny, some just plain stupid:

"Lee Corso is an Eskimo"
"Lee Corso is a god"
"Lee Corso is an idiot"
Several "Fuck Lee Corso" groups
"Lee Corso is a DOUCHE"
"Lee Corso is the devil!"
"Lee Corso resembles a sea otter"

Thanks for reading.

Alan L. Bounville

Minimizing Margins - The Beginning

Dear Reader,

Oh boy! Joining the chatter and clatter of our world - I give you - MY VOICE. I have wanted to write a blog for a while now. (Yikes! Another flaming liberal on the web!) And here...I...go.

This coming month I am embarking upon my next life journey as a graduate student at New York University. There I will work towards my Master's in Educational Theatre. There is a laundry list of 'to dos' I want to accomplish in the upcoming years and what better way to track this progress than with you - here!

Over the last year and a half I have given great pause to the burning desire in me to develop creative projects that will promote a more pluralistic and just society. I have examined my personal wants and needs and realized my whole life has existed behind a wall - a wall of fear that was built over a lifetime from the indoctrination I never knew existed. A wall built by the ruling class' ability to keep my ideas and desires in 'there place'. Through this process of examination I have been able to name this wall. The wall is oppression through marginalization. And since naming the wall I have realized how thin the wall really was. In recent months I passed through it to the other side - to the side of validation for what I want for myself and my community.

During this recent period I started asking many festering questions, on the job, in the community and at home. What I learned was that large numbers of people in my own life knowingly or not were suppressing my pluralist vision for our shared world. They were marginalizing my voice as if my views were too extreme, discomforting to discuss or not equal in merit to their own. Or even worse, they at first sign of conflict of ideas refused to engage me in a civil discussion over issues, thus reinforcing the status quo or further suppressing my thoughts. Somewhere in there I had the epiphany that the wall I had blocking my sight was not just my wall. It was very, very real. And it was blocking the eyes of countless herds. What is truly scary - it took me 32 years to get to this place.

To those who would insist the status quo or further suppression of voices like mine will put them on the right side of history, I say - that is never the case. I hope in my unique way I will show how finding what is important to me and caring enough to do something about it is a model for others to come forward and identify what they care enough about. And not just care, but also act to revitalize the democratic process that is critical to advancement.

I am an out and proud gay man. Of primary concern to me is to expose and fight the systematic oppression of myself and the other LGBT members of my given and acquired family. I intend to share not just our stories, but the stories of various LGBT people. I will seek out personal stories of those I don't know who would like to share their oppressive experiences. It is of utmost concern to me to share these stories. Humanizing the oppressed has always been one of the strongest tools to fight against the isolationist vision oppressors have for the lives of LGBT people.

And in this sharing, I anticipate the birthing of a structure for the work I intend to accomplish over the next few years. I know my passion for using the arts as a very direct medium to affect social change will help fuel the creative projects I develop during this phase of my life. I am very excited to take some of my already formed ideas and expand upon them to create real, accessible pieces of art to impact social change. And by accessible I mean works that cross boundaries, that also reach the hearts and minds of the oppressors in a way they can no longer run away from the real changes that need to take place in society to advance us all.

The above being said, LGBT equality is not the only hot button issue with which I am concerned. Over time I will be sharing through my lens stories and experiences that expose oppression of marginalized people in other areas of life and society.

And besides the sobering accounts presented here I will share victorious and humorous experiences. And I will show the real, tangible results from helping marginalized people. I will document the strength plurality brings to our world through the giving of equal space to all voices. And I will underscore everything with a call to action for all marginalized people and those who support them to claim their voice's rightful place.

So, thank you for stopping by. Thank you for indulging my diverse patchwork of ideas, thoughts and feelings. And as I attempt to humanize the spectrum of struggles documented here and use that to shape theatrical experiences I want to hear from you about your views on this blog's content. It is my hope that both dominant and marginalized voices will collide here, removing fear from the debate for our joined journey.

Here's to minimizing margins!

Alan L. Bounville