i'll just say it

I'm a gay atheist.

Two little words: gay atheist. So many judgements.

I know, at least according to polls, that this means that there's a lot of folks out there, maybe even a few readers, who believe that I will not burn once, but twice in the inferno of hell for all of eternity.

Good thing I don't believe in hell.

There are people out there who believe that because I'm attracted to men, I must also want to rape their little boys.

So, since heterosexual women like men, do they also want to sleep with boys?

There are people who think I must live a self-indulgent, hedonistic lifestyle.

I hate to mention to them that I also enjoy gardening.

There are people out there who think that my sexuality was my choice.

And there, words fail me.

However, I won't argue that atheism is a choice.

It is a choice. A very deliberate, well hashed, well reasoned choice. Unlike a lot of Christians.

I wasn't always atheist. In fact, growing up I was an extremely devout Lutheran. Well, as devout as a Lutheran could be. Most of the time, "devout Lutheran" means that you bring a casserole and help clean up.

Then I went to a Lutheran college where I was just shy of my required courses for a religion minor. Four years of religion classes thoroughly drummed any idea of a deity right out of my reality.

And it's not that I don't believe there are powers that we don't understand at work in the universe. I just don't believe that it can be summed up in a nice 1000 page book that's 2000 years old.

Apparently, however, most Americans would disagree with me. Thus, I, and any other non-deists, are demonized.

So let me set a couple things on the record.

For one, we're all saying the word incorrectly. Say "amoral." Say "asexual"

Now say "atheist." See, you say it different. Why? Because the traditional pronunciation has a harsher feeling when you emphasis the first syllable. In Greek, "a" means "no" or "without." We're focusing on the negative here.

Now say it "ay-THEE-ist." See, nicer. Happier.

Second why christians believe that you must believe what they believe in order to be a good, productive human is beyond me.

I don't hate christians. I hate hypocrites.

If you're going to do something, do it all the way. If you're going to believe something, believe it all the way.

Most christians tend to pick and choose what they will and will not follow in the bible. Ask them to take the 10 commandments out of a courthouse and they get all up at arms.

Speaking of... isn't there one that goes something like, "thou shalt not kill?"

The same people who call themselves hard-core christians are the same people with the "support our troops" bumper stickers. Did they forget what a soldier's job is?

Or the christians who are late for church so speed through our towns, almost running over poor bikers (moi) to get to church. (yes, I could tell they were going to church. besides the "calvin kneeling at the cross" sticker, it was Sunday morning and the car reeked of cheap perfume.) Did they forget that god expects you to follow Caesar's law? "Give unto Caesar what is Caesar's and Give unto god what is god's."

And then they like to pick on itty-bitty verses that they claim say that god hates homosexuality.

Found in the same books of the bible that also ban wearing blended fabrics, endorses slavery, prohibits sowing different crops in the same field and encourages you to beat your wife or stone her to death if she misbehaves.

Hypocrisy. THAT's what I hate.

I try very hard not to be a hypocrite.

I do this by keeping my life-philosphy short and sweet:

"leave the world a better place than you found it."

I put the shopping carts back in the cart carrel. Even if they're not mine.

I don't litter and have been known to pick up other people's litter. Even if it's used towels on the bathroom floor.

I'm an extremely courteous driver. I don't hog lanes or hang out in the passing lane without passing. And when I park in the parking lot, I actually make my car go between the lines.

I pick up after myself so that I won't ever be a burden to anyone else and often pick up after others since I'm already picking up stuff anyway.

I wave. I smile. I say 'hi.' Smiling, waving... they always make you and those around you that much happier, if even for a split second.

Oh yeah. And I volunteer my vacation time at summer camps for kids.

Which brings me to the reason I started this post.

Very, VERY rarely does my sexual orientation or religious beliefs ever come into play in my life.

My personal life has absolutely no bearing on my professional life. Because I have a husband and don't go to church does not mean I am at all incapable of teaching children what a half-note is or who Mozart is.

It also doesn't mean that I can't work with under-privileged children or children with cancer and show them what it means to have fun for a week.

But apparently one camp I've had an exceptionally long relationship with, well, does.

I had cancer as a child. And I myself got to go to camps for kids with cancer.

When I was old enough (16) I started volunteering as a counselor at one of these camps. And I've been going back every year (save a few when I just couldn't) since I was 16.

Since I don't usually talk about my personal life when I'm at work, I also didn't talk about it at camp.

But you know what happens when you don't talk: People do the talking for you.

Last year at this camp, some of the adult staff, point blank, asked about my boyfriend. I told them. And they continued to ask questions all week. It was only in the company of adults and never around the kids.

I was tired of playing the pronoun game. I was tired of being ashamed of something I have nothing to be ashamed of. I was tired of the fact that everyone else got to talk about their spouses and families, and I couldn't let myself.

Apparently, this didn't go over well. The camp founders make it very clear that this is a camp based on christian principles. We have chapel, pray before meals, and sometimes read and talk about the bible with the campers.

I wasn't offended by any of that. I was there to have fun. My job at that camp was to be the crazy entertainer. I'm the guy that wore costumes, sang silly songs and generally kept the kids' minds of the fact that they had cancer.

When I woke up this morning, I still thought I would be going to this camp next week.

And then I get a very generic, impersonal letter informing me that my services would not be required at camp this year.

All these years of time and energy I gave to this camp, and all I get is a letter.

To say the very least, I was crushed and hurt in a way that I can't remember being crushed and hurt before.

I called the director of the camp. I asked for the real reason I wasn't invited back. She mentioned me "coming out" at camp last year and how "camp is not the appropriate place for that."

I was stunned silent.

Never. Never in my life has my sexuality been so blatantly used against me.

Never has anyone judged or hurt me as bad as they hurt me.

I don't know if you can understand. This is the one camp I look forward to every year. It's the camp where "Mr. Hart" gets to be "Crazy Kevin". It's like going home every year.

And this year, they told me I wasn't welcome home anymore.

So fuck it. I'm tired of being afraid of what will happen if people know. Judge if you like. Call me names.

I'm a hell of a good teacher. I'm an excellent friend. I'm a caring son and brother. And I'm an exceptional husband.

But don't you dare, for one second, call into question my character.

I'm a gay ahteist, and fucking proud of it.