Gay hazed

However, I had attended a conformist Christian high school where gay people were often looked down upon, so I was unfamiliar with these types of organizations or what they might have been able to offer me. In the early s, I tried to join a frat at Georgia State University.

Not a Great Week :

Shivering, we reached the boardwalk and turned right, walking about two miles, until we hit a stretch of beach obscured by towering power plants that blocked any view from the street. Log in to hide these messages. We stepped into the rain and walked down a steep residential side street faintly lit by street lamps.

Yet hazing is a scar on the face of American sports. The Leader, the nickname for our main pledge master, was waiting for us at the entrance gate. The upperclassmen welcomed me as their first openly gay member, too. I wanted to prove to myself and to others that I could handle the challenges and be an equal, regardless of my sexuality.

Join the HuffPost Community. Join today and support our work. Dress in all black. Turning off the main road, we entered a damp, empty single-story parking structure. When I signed up to rush, I was seeking the real college experience, complete with large backyard parties and drunken antics with friends.

Three weeks in, my pledge brothers were already becoming some of my closest friends. In the car with me were four of my pledge brothers. Some coaches and athletes think sexual assault builds bonds.

I Was Hazed In : Our need to haze and be hazed has been explored in broader American popular culture for decades, whether in the military, college, high school, camp, corporate life, and even veterinary school

Candid discussions about my sexuality emerged during late-night, alcohol-fueled conversations. It was the week before pledges get initiated – popularly known as “Hell Week” – and I was nervous. No, I won’t say which one. On a cold, stormy September night inmy 14 fraternity pledge brothers and I received this ambiguous text from one of our pledge masters:.

As the fraternity’s first-ever openly gay member, each new challenge not only tested my resilience but also brought into sharp focus my ongoing struggle for acceptance and community. Bring a first aid kit, five jugs of water, three shovels, and a triangular-shaped candle.

That’s not the point of this story. This is the worst outcome I could have expected from being hazed by a fraternity.

An hour later, my palms choked the steering wheel of my Ford pickup truck as I drove from our fraternity house at the University of Southern California toward an unnamed address in Manhattan Beach. After I stepped out of my truck, The Leader pointed down a road.

A knot of anxiety tightened in my stomach. During the first week of college, my mom, understandably protective, tried to dissuade me from rushing. Although fraternities are notorious for homophobia, I met a brother during rush week who alleviated the doubts my mom had placed in my head.

At 11pm, you will all load into three of your cars and drive to the destination I send you. Membership connects you to a movement of readers who believe good journalism builds a better world. Already contributed? She feared that as a young gay man who had come out just a month earlier, I would be rejected or maybe even harmed.

When I signed up to rush, I was seeking the real college experience, complete with large backyard parties and drunken antics with friends. I played wingman at sorority mixers and got praised for effortlessly starting conversations between my brothers and pretty girls.

We cleaned rooms in the house together, ate all of our meals together, and studied for hours together.