I retire from the Air Force later this year. Looking back, it's been a wild ride watching a civil rights fight from inside the military closet. I signed up years before Don't Ask, Don't Tell (DADT) was a glimmer in Uncle Sam's eye. When DADT became public law and military policy, I silently squealed with joy about our first baby step towards allowing gays to serve. So naïve, I thought it was the natural progression towards open service for gays and lesbians. That was 15 years ago. One baby step and 12,000 discharges later, it doesn't seem like we're any closer to allowing homosexuals to openly serve their country.
That's not to say plenty of people haven't cared enough to fight DADT. I've witnessed the herculean efforts of amazing groups like the Servicemembers Legal Defense Network, Human Rights Campaign, The Palm Center at the University of California - Santa Barbara, and of course Servicemembers United. Dozens have attempted to repeal DADT throughout the years. They've all made cogent, rational arguments against DADT proving it's doing nothing but harm to the United States of America. Unfortunately, DADT isn't a rational law or policy. It's based in fear of the unknown and prejudice. As philosopher Edmund Burke once said, "No passion so effectually robs the mind of all its powers of acting and reasoning as fear."
The DADT journey has been frustrating, bemusing, and sometimes just exhausting to watch (especially from inside the military closet.) We the People cut 12,000 military careers (and counting) short because of DADT. We the People spent millions of tax dollars to recruit and train servicemembers, later discharging them for being homosexual. We the People conducted witch-hunts, investigations, and courts martial against Americans who volunteered to serve their country (and die for it, if necessary). We the People protested for and against DADT. Sadly, the Westboro Baptist Church even stood outside of military funerals with placards screaming, "God Hates Fags". This is what DADT has done to America.
At the same time, I watched active duty troops leave the closet to challenge DADT. Talk about bravery in the face of adversity and danger. I wasn't brave enough to come out in uniform. I played by the rules and hoped the policy would fall. I gave money to groups fighting the ban. I contributed my experiences to those studying the ban. I wrote essays from inside the military closet to share what it's like serving silently (hoping to change a few hearts and minds). Ultimately, I think I never came out in uniform because I wanted to prove to myself, my family, and friends that homosexuals could serve for a career with honor - even under the unfair conditions of DADT.
While in the military closet, I witnessed several gay witch-hunts. An especially heinous witch-hunt was at Ramstein Air Base, Germany. It happened after DADT was enacted, but it was pure textbook pre-DADT tactics. In all, it smoked out at least 13 homosexuals - including a commander of an intelligence squadron. I wasn't involved, but had one of those caught uttered my name, my career would have been finished. For what? To what end? Did Uncle Sam really think he could rid the military of every homosexual in uniform?
What probably saved my military career while serving under DADT was Randy Shilts' amazing book, Conduct Unbecoming: Gays and Lesbians in the U.S. Military. When published in 1993, I had only been in the military for a few years. I hadn't come out to any friends or family, yet. I really didn't know the risks or the history of how gays had been treated in the U.S. military. Then I started reading Shilts' book. It was frightening and disheartening to read about how gays and lesbians had been treated by their own countrymen. But, as I digested the book's lessons, I learned how to beat the military at its own game. To this day, anytime I meet someone gay in the military, I always recommend the book. It gave me the power to protect myself from Uncle Sam. What a sad thing to have to learn while serving in uniform.
Upon my retirement, DADT will still be the law of the land and I get to say, "I served a career in the closet. I gutted it out." Uncle Sam gives out plenty of medals and awards for military service. Serving in silence under DADT doesn't get you any medals, but it's been the hardest thing I've done in my life (including service in Iraq). I'm a little upset about the sacrifices I had to make because of DADT. Believe me, there's enough sacrifice just to serve in the military. Once I've retired and a few years have seasoned my memories, I'm sure I'll smile more about my time in the Air Force. But I'd really like to know what it would have been like to serve openly - and ultimately, honestly.
Looking forward, I'm anticipating joining my out and proud brothers and sisters to fight DADT with my big, loud mouth. I will join gay vet groups, attend DADT protest rallies, and attest openly to my members of Congress that I'm a retired vet and served with honor as a gay American in uniform.
Postscript: I'm in the planning stages of my retirement for later this year. I will hold up my end of the DADT bargain and not forsake my military retirement. It will, however, be my ceremony and I will have it my way. My friends and family will be there, the love of my life will be there, and a close friend and lesbian will preside over the ceremony. Unfortunately, colleagues who do not know me well will not be invited. They'll have to remain ignorant of what's going on in the lives of gay servicemembers. It's unfortunate, in my opinion. As is a career in the military closet.
The United States Air Force Has Three Core Values:
Integrity First
Service Before Self
Excellence in All We Do
"Don't Ask, Don't Tell" violates the First Core Value, Takes Advantage of the Second, and Compromises the Third.
