Midnight thoughts of a GLASS activist

To say that I have had an interesting year and a half has been an understatement. For all intents and purposes it has been the most impactful and intense year and a half of my life. Back in the fall of 2011 I sat moping around in my barracks room of Great Lakes Naval Base, pissed off that there were no resources for me, for my friends, for anyone who was LGBT in the military. Honestly I was pissed off that the repeal of DADT didnt really mean shit other than the fact that I could be "out". I couldn't be "in" honestly even if I tried. For me being pissed off was an inward thing. If I ever got angry at anything I didn't like to show it. I would try to not let it interfere with my life. After all, who was I to complain about how we were treated, or the lack of resources, since I had been in the Navy for less than a year? Compared to the other countless numbers of people who had gone before me? How dare I feel frustrated? To be perfectly frank, I was just plane over it. I was over not being able to hold my girlfriend's hand at the Fourth of July celebration on base. I was over feeling like I had to downplay who I was and where I had come from. I was over worrying that my haircut, the way I acted, the way I carried myself weren't "feminine" enough. That I always acted "too much like a dyke." I was over feeling ashamed.

Most of all I was over the fact that there was NOWHERE  to ask for help. Hell, if I had any question at all about  how to navigate in the military as an obvious lesbian I was pretty much shit out of luck.
It was that frustration above everything, above seeing my friends struggle, above seeing the frustration in my girlfriend's eyes as I shied away from her hand on base, above sitting back and waiting for national policy to come around, that prompted me to finally stand up.

It was that act of standing up, that act of calling yourself out, that act of saying "enough", that was the turning point. For the first time in my life I felt empowered. It was like coming out again, but in a more profound way. I had been "out" for years prior to enlisting. That entire time I hadn't ever had the courage to actually stand for something. I always assumed the work would be done by someone else. I was wrong. The work is done by each of us. Each of us are responsible for this movement. Each of us bear the same responsibility. Each of us have the capability to step up, to take a stand, to open their mouth and add to the chorus of voices that have gone before us for the greater good.

A year and a half ago the stars aligned and, with the help of amazing people, organizations and a very, very forward thinking command, we started GLASS. It boggles my mind that there wasn't a gay-straight alliance in the Military before us. To this day, after the commands that have active chapters, after the emails and phone calls we receive every week asking for help, after the dozens of bases in the process of starting up GLASS chapters, it boggles my mind that no one else did this before us. Who were we to start this? What right did a group of three E-3 sailors have to walk into our Captain's office and tell him about this crazy idea? We were just like every other Sailor or Marine or Airman fresh out of bootcamp: scared and unsure and completely unaware of what would happen next.

After our first meeting with the CO of Great Lakes, FC3 Liz Greenwood, FC2 Beau Brisco and myself hurried out of our Captain's office, speechless, shaking with excitement and gave each other a three-way hug. We had taken the first step. I have learned in time that that first step wasn't the start of a sprint, but of a relay, with many many different people.

We continue this relay today. Our organization has grown and many many others have taken on the responsibility of standing up, of speaking out and of putting their money where there mouth is. I never thought I could be as proud and as humbled as I am today. I never thought I could feel the bond and share the joy and frustration and fear and hope that I have with my fellow servicemembers in arms.

This blog, like many other things we are working towards with GLASS and other organizations, is a tool to reach out and connect with that sailor who feels alone. That airman who is afraid to come out. That marine who doesn't know how to navigate the red tape. This is for you. Thank you all.

-FC2 Ann Foster
GLASS Founder
GLASS President USS MILIUS/ DDG 69

Reflections In Polished GLASS: Why I Started G.L.A.S.S. of Camp Lejeune

One August evening, sitting all alone on duty and depressed in a tiny shack that was Camp Devil Dog Battalion Aid Station (BAS), I would've elicited reactions of shock from someone who'd just met me. They'd probably say "...but you just got engaged!" They would be right I'd just gotten engaged to the woman who is now my wife. The previous weekend, I'd told my mother the news. She was worried, we'd know each other 6 months... any mother would be worried if their child called and told them they were getting married after that amount of time should be worried. There was also some words that would hurt more than any physical injury I'd ever sustain... or as a Navy Hospital Corpsman, treated. I was asked what I'd do if hit on by a man; my response being "The same thing you do when you're not interested, Ma. I'll politely turn him down and move on." That was succinctly responded to with "That's not how it works for you people." I then sat through a slightly less brief explanation of how I would be incapable of being faithful because I am a Bisexual Man. I told my mother that her explanation was the most ignorant thing I'd ever heard her say... and politely ended the call. A week later (2 days before my duty), she doubled down on her statements. While I'd been simmering in my own heartache, I'd also come across news stories about Gay-Straight Alliances at the Service Academies. I thought to myself "There's no way there isn't at least one in the Fleet!" My search only took one try to find G.L.A.S.S. I then realized what I was doing: allowing myself to fall in to a deep, dark hole that I'd fallen into many times before, climbing up only to fall back in. At the bottom of that hole were many things I wanted no part of anymore: depression, self-loathing, destructive behavior... a suicide attempt. It was at that moment that I resolved to use my pain as fuel to do good; to be a positive impact for someone who may still be in their hole. That night, I contacted G.L.A.S.S. Great Lakes and 11 months later G.L.A.S.S. of Camp Lejeune is doing things that even I didn't envision that night that now seems so long ago. With the help of some amazing people like Co-Founder Benjamin Becker, G.L.A.S.S. of Camp Lejeune has become a beacon of support.  If you're reading this and you're in your deep dark hole of despair... start climbing. You've got friends at the top... and we've got a rope ladder and flashlights.

HN Peete, R.D.

G.L.A.S.S. of Camp Lejeune Co-Founder & President