Stories: Frank
When I was at Rutgers College back in the—ahem!—1980s, my sociology professor asked me if I’d like to be on a panel of gay and lesbian people for our class unit on sexuality. I was out on campus, and co-president of the gay campus group, but still I had just a little concern about one guy in particular. In class “Frank” made it fairly clear through comments during the semester that he wasn’t too keen on “queers.”
Still, I agreed to do it, all the while picturing Frank trying to harm me physically after class. I’d told the professor of my concern, and we agreed to an exit strategy should my safety be an issue.
I thought everyone knew I was gay, since our group had challenged the school administration in a very public way to address our concerns as gay and lesbian students, but most of my fellow students showed surprise by my presence on the panel. The class went well, and people asked some good questions.
As the class let out, I kept an eye on Frank. He approached. I tensed up. He stuck out his hand. We shook hands. He said “That took guts. Thanks for doing that.” And then he walked out of the class. My professor and I looked at each other and smiled. She and I agreed that the class was a success on many levels.
