Jason Collins Has Come Out -- Why It Matters

I work in an office filled with lively, opinionated folks of various ages yet so far most have been quiet as church cathedrals on the subject of NBA player Jason Collins coming out as gay. Maybe there's conversation going on, just not in my hearing. Interesting.

There's plenty of chatter going on about Collins in cyberspace of course, including the inevitable and dismissive "Who cares?" and "Why does it even matter?" For sheer towering cluelessness, there's also a fair sprinkling of my personal favorite: "Straight people don't come out as straight, so why do gay people think they have to?"

Let's take that last bit of disingenuousness first.

I've said this before (as have many others before me), but apparently whenever someone of note comes out of the closet it bears repeating: straight people don't have to "come out" as straight because historically the culture in which we live already presumes everyone to be straight, expects them to be. Slowly, as more LGBT people make their presences felt, this becomes less the case. Even so there remains a marked tendency on the part of many people to assume that because they are heterosexual so is every single person they encounter in the course of their day.

Besides, that argument is false: straight people actually do come out, all the time, in all sorts of ways. They telegraph their heterosexuality in water cooler conversation about remembered romantic getaways with their spouse or significant other, upcoming wedding anniversaries and family celebrations. They do it by expressing affectional interest in a new acquaintance, or sexual interest in a person passing by them on the street.

As to the knee jerk "who cares" and "why does it matter" responses, well, bunk.

Of course it matters and on some level everybody cares. Maybe you're so over it, but most people are fascinated by gossip about who is or might be queer, particularly when the talk involves celebrities, especially when the talk involves male celebrities. Whether or not LGBT people should be allowed to legally marry, adopt, teach in public schools, be accorded legal protection from discrimination in housing and employment, and serve in the armed forces--or play team sports--without having to lie and hide, continue to be subjects of heated debate, here and elsewhere around the world.

In that circumstance, it's impossible to read the "who cares" retort as anything but a wish to close down any further discussion about the subject of non-heterosexuality: stop talking, I don't need to hear about this, I don't want to know. Invariably these people insist they have no problem with gay, and really don't care one way or the other. You're gay? Fine, whatever, but I don't need to know. Just shut up about it.

But that's precisely the problem. As someone eloquently posted to Facebook recently, the price of your acceptance of me should not have to be my silence. That you'd require me to be invisible as a condition for allowing me to breathe the same air as you effectively condemns me to a life on the margins, where I can never feel sure of my welcome in your house or indeed my value as a fellow human being. Silence sends me right back to the closet.

Silence also kills. Especially if, like Mr. Collins and me, you are Black.

According to recent data from the Center for Disease Control and Prevention, Black people account for almost half of AIDS deaths in the U.S. since the epidemic's beginnings and we remain the racial/ethnic group most affected by the disease, with young Black gay men accounting for more new rates of infection than any other race/ethnic, age or gender group. Poverty, higher rates of incarceration, and lack of access to comprehensive health care are the significant factors that explain this.

But stigma--the shame and disgrace associated with homosexuality--all but ensures the spread of HIV and AIDS. The fear of revealing yourself as gay, and the unconscious conviction that you are something broken, defective, less than and your life without worth, because you are lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender, becomes for far too many in communities of color a barrier to seeking testing and treatment services, and life-saving prevention information.

That fear and shame discourage many Black LGBT people from coming out to their family and friends. The consequent lack of emotional support deepens feelings of isolation, anxiety, and depression that drive risky behavior.

So it turns out coming out matters. A lot. Whenever someone comes out, they confront the gossip and change the conversation about what being gay means. Instead of everyone else defining you, you define yourself. You tell people who don't know, what gay/lesbian/bisexual/transgender is simply by telling them who you are. If silence breeds denial, disrespect and self-hatred, your "starting the conversation" can break down the walls misunderstanding, foster empathy and acceptance, and save lives.

This is why Jason Collins coming out matters. Because he matters.

Because we all do.