The doubt of coming out

Eighteen-year-old Mike Gregg has an honest face. Dark brown and piercing, with intense depth, his eyes are searching, springing to life with vigor as he speaks. Words come easily to the articulate sophomore from Cincinnati. His remarks are unguarded, even candid. \nTo passers-by, a conversation would seem relatively insignificant; with his khaki pants, twill shirt and backpack, Gregg seems like a typical college student on a typical weekday afternoon.\nBut Gregg is gay. During the past year, his struggle to come to terms with his own sexuality has become synonymous with a great task: determining his personal identity in an unfamiliar environment. \nLast October, as a freshman, with internal pressures searing his conscience, Gregg called the Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgendered Student Support Services office on campus. Thirty minutes later, he was sitting in a small conference room in the GLBT facility on East Seventh Street, tears streaming, as he finally confronted the burden that had weighed on his soul since fourth grade.\n"Back then, I had ideas, ideas I couldn't exactly identify, but I knew something wasn't right," said Gregg, smiling slightly. "By seventh grade, I was terrified at the prospects of being gay, because I could label it. I could identify it."\nGregg's situation is not unique. He is one of hundreds of admittedly gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgendered students on campus, according to the GLBT office. At some point, each student faced the difficulty of admitting his or her sexuality to a community of 35,000, a daunting task darkened with the shroud of collective disapproval.\nWrestling with identity\nNoting the negative connotations placed upon homosexuality, Gregg said he tried to deny his intuition. He believed he didn't adhere to the typecast. \n"I tried to tell myself it was just a phase, something I was going through," he said.\nFinally, he turned to an administrative official in his school for guidance. Rather than admitting his tendencies openly, he hinted at the possibility of homosexuality. \nWhile the support he consequently received was alleviating, Gregg continued to deny his suspicions throughout high school.\nAs part of a graduating class of about 150 from a small Catholic school, Gregg threw himself into school and work, "anything," he said, "to keep my mind off what troubled me every single day of my life." In the midst of such intense study, it was barely noticed that Gregg didn't really date.\n"There was one girl people thought I was dating," he admits, "but we were just friends. I kind of let my friends believe whatever they desired; it kept them from asking me outright." When friends would refer to homosexuality in everyday banter, Gregg said he withdrew somewhat, but, it was never noticed. But the mention of derogatory slurs scared him.\n"I'm not an actor, exactly," Gregg said. "However, I put on this act to friends and family that I was very much straight." \nLost on campus\nFor Gregg, the transition from the small, close-knit community of his youth to a campus of 35,000 proved emotionally draining. Without a stable support base of close friends, Gregg was lonely. Shortly after entering IU as a freshman, he began what would become a six-week heterosexual relationship. Eventually, as internal turmoil increased substantially, he was forced to break off the relationship.\n"After getting out of that relationship, I just had to talk to somebody," he said. \nEnter Doug Bauder, coordinator of Student Support Services for GLBT and the first individual in whom Gregg confided.\n"From the moment I met Mike, I knew he would make it through this transition," Bauder said. "He was aware of the resources available to him, but he was unsure and needed a friend. I was able to provide that relationship to him."\nAfter Gregg's initial confession, Bauder paired him with senior David Reinwald through the Peer Support Program, a GLBT enterprise begun four years ago to provide students an opportunity to discuss issues related to sexuality. Reinwald instantly recognized in Gregg a sense of personal empowerment, of inner strength.\n"Mike was strong from the beginning," Reinwald said. "The program has a lot to offer, but it's up to the student to extract what they can from it. Mike's strength enabled him to realize it was he who was making this huge transition. It was up to him."\nStephanie Burnett, a graduate student involved in the counseling program, said the peer supporter listens to the student's concerns, provides resources and, more often than not, can relate some common experiences and emotions.\n"It's amazing how powerful sharing a common experience can be when a student is coming out. Often, a student will not know anybody else who identifies as gay or lesbian, so meeting another person and hearing that they too went through similar experiences can be very therapeutic," Burnett said. "The program is a confidential place for a student in the process of coming out to talk to someone who has been there before. \n"It's a discreet first step to let a student know that he or she is not alone."\nSpreading the word\nWith Reinwald's assistance, Gregg initiated the process of coming out to friends and family, beginning with his roommate. Citing the revelation as an "amazing event," Gregg lauds his roommate as one of his chief supporters.\n"We were very close by the time I came out," Gregg said. "He talked to me at length about various relationships he was in; I wanted to do the same, to share my experiences. So I went out on a limb and told him." After nearly a full minute of "awkward smiles," the two began talking animatedly. \nNow, both serve on GLBT-sponsored panel discussions designed to educate straight and gay students in a variety of sexual issues, which Gregg cites as a definite step toward breaking down stereotypes.\nOpportunities exist to ease the transition. OUT, the GLBT's student union, offers numerous support services, such as the Anti-Harassment Team, a personal support staff that counsels victims of harassment on a one-on-one basis, as well as events such as Miss Gay IU and Lesbopalooza, which took place Oct. 14 in Woodlawn Field. OUT sponsors the Safe Zone program, which designates automobile stickers representing the denouncement of all harassment and intolerance. \nAdditional programs target those involved in the greek system. Lambda 10 "works to heighten the visibility of gay, lesbian and bisexual members of the college fraternity by serving as a clearinghouse for resources and educational materials related to sexual orientation in the fraternity and sorority experience," according to the group's Web site.\nLife's ultimate questions\nInsecurity might result from religious circumstances. With a strong spiritual foundation rooted firmly in Catholicism, Gregg acknowledges the difficulties coming out generates in religious communities. But he heralds the role of family support in superseding such doubts. \n"For a lot of people, especially guys, who are coming out or in the closet, religion plays a significant role in their decision. They're afraid of what their families might think. But I think a lot of them may actually be surprised," he said.\nBauder agreed with Gregg. Equipped with considerable training in pastoral and clinical counseling, Bauder equates confronting one's sexuality with deeply significant spiritual questions.\n"Students struggling with the state of their sexuality are essentially asking life's ultimate questions," he said. "They're wondering what their families will think, yes, but most importantly, they're attempting to determine whether they can integrate their new lifestyle with their religious beliefs. And I believe they can do that. They don't have to throw it all away"