Why is Jason Collins on the front-page? Why did President Obama feel compelled to call Jason Collins? What’s with the NBA? Is this hoopla?
Today it’s news. Tomorrow, it’s yesterday’s news. The day after tomorrow, it’s normal.
Try seeing the world through the eyes of a gay kid. Now make the gay kid black. Now put the gay black kid in America, a country still reeling from 17-years of DOMA.
I’ve spent my entire life in a tug-of-war with fame, craving it while being repulsed by it. Finally, yesterday, as I watched the NBA erase a barrier of equality, I saw fame for what it is: an opportunity to lift-up everyone around you.
I get the feeling President Truman didn’t feel compelled to call Jackie Robinson, and offer support, which is a reflection of how blindly we move through life.
We’re more comfortable with peace through strength than strength through peace. We don’t think twice about inviting our gay friends to dance and eat cake at our weddings, even though they can’t get married. We put stickers on bumpers pledging to “support our troops” when they fight in illegal wars, but then turn right around and shrug-off homeless veterans.
I know there are going to be naysayers. I know ESPN will seek-out naysayers. I know we place a higher value on ratings than kindness. But I’m not taking the bait. I’m not nibbling on the hook.
Fuck You, Worm. There Isn’t 2-Sides. There’s 1-Side.
The right side, the side where personal bravery exposes a universal truth: love is love, and just because I’m gay, and taking a shower with a bunch of dudes, after we get done playing a game of basketball, doesn’t mean I wanna bone every dude in the shower.
If you’re uncomfortable, good. Admit you’re uncomfortable. Admit it to yourself. Then get over yourself.