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An
Army Linguist Speaks Out
by
Patrick
English |
It is rare that when in
the midst of our actions that we fully realize
their implications. However, when I found myself
sitting with other gay veterans speaking with
Former Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Ret.
General John Shalikashvili, I had such a moment.
Whether or not the details of that conversation
would ever be recorded, or the fact that it
happened ever disclosed, I knew that it would be a
significant event in the fight to repeal "Don’t
Ask, Don’t Tell." Sharing my story helped
to convince the former top officer of the US
Military that yes, gays could serve openly and
honestly in today’s military, without an issue.
I joined the Army at 17,
following in the footsteps of my best friend who
had joined the previous year. Every time she came
home to Santa Cruz, California on leave, she was
full of stories about the Army and what a great
and challenging career it was. She begged me to
visit her recruiter, but I declined each time. In
my senior year of high school I was used to
recruiters coming on campus, but I thought the
military was only for people who couldn’t make
it into college. I was the last person I imagined
going into the service for many factors, not the
least of which included the recent discovery of my
sexuality. But early in the year 2000, things
begin to rapidly change, and I embarked on what
would become an exciting Army career.
By the time my best
friend Rachel had returned home on leave from her
advanced training in Ft Huachuca, Arizona, my
college applications had returned as well. I had
not accepted to a single college I had applied to.
I went with Rachel to meet her recruiter, and
looked at a list of career options. Immediately
the job of linguist stuck out from the rest. I
have always loved learning foreign language, and
at that time was studying Spanish and Japanese in
high school. The fact that I would attend the
Defense Language Institute, only an hour from
home, and the fact that I would earn college
credit at the same time, sold me. I was about to
break with the path of most my age and find some
desperately needed discipline and direction. I
would become part of an institution where I would
be judged on my merits, not on my background or
who I was. Or so I thought. One question remained.
"What about being gay?" I asked Rachel.
She told me it didn’t matter, that she was even
serving with gay men and women in her unit at the
time.
I signed the paperwork,
was shipped off to basic soon after graduation
from high school. I was convinced that "Don’t
Ask, Don’t Tell" was there for my
protection, and that as long as I wasn’t open
about my sexuality, it couldn’t be used against
me. Still, I went back into the closet, thinking
that being gay was just a phase, and the military
would straighten me out.
While studying Korean at
the Defense Language Institute, I realized that
being gay was part of who I was, and would not
change. I came out to my mother, who was
disappointed and unhappy. Bipolar, and at that
time untreated, she was paranoid and convinced the
Army was "out to get me." She told me
she would out me to my commander. I was crushed.
She threatened my career that I had worked so hard
to build. I had excelled in Basic Training,
pushing myself harder and further than I thought
was possible, and my love for language was serving
me well in my classes.
One weekend, without my
knowledge, my mother drove onto post and met with
my commander behind closed doors. I found out and
sure enough, Monday morning I was standing at
attention in front of CPT Johnson in his office. I
thought my career was over, and I would be kicked
out. I wasn’t prepared for what he told me.
"English, you’re a
good soldier. We’re here to support you, not
your mother."
He dismissed me, and let
me know that if I ever needed to speak to someone
that my chain of command was there for me. I was
never asked about my sexuality, and I figured that
"Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell" was working.
In the midst of this
turbulence, I felt very alone. Finally, I took a
great risk and came out to one of my close
friends, to find some support for what was going
on. I had suspected he was gay as well, but I was
still fearful of making a mistake that would cost
me my career. But my fears were unfounded; he was
gay, and introduced me to an entire network of gay
and lesbian service members, and more importantly,
straight allies. Our straight peers that knew us
didn’t care about our sexuality.
Despite this acceptance,
I was about to see the full gravity of "Don’t
Ask, Don’t Tell" and what it would mean to
the many friends I had made at the Defense
Language Institute. I had graduated DLI and was in
Texas for my advanced training when I received the
news. Over half a dozen linguists in training,
many of them studying Arabic, were investigated
and discharged for homosexuality. All of them were
close friends of mine. For a short time I was very
afraid and wanted to retreat further into the
closet, but a close friend of mine, Ian, the first
one I came out to in the military, spurred me into
action.
He told me that we couldn’t
stand by and do nothing as our friends’ careers
were cut short. I chose to take a stand, and that
became a turning point for me.
I found myself stationed
in Korea, and my friend Ian began working on
speaking to the media and forming a group of
active-duty LGBT service members. He worked
routinely with Dr. Aaron Belkin of the Michael D.
Palm Center, formerly the Center for Study of
Sexual Minorities in the Military. But Ian was
soon to leave for the invasion of Iraq, and left
the duties in my hands. I worked with Dr. Belkin
after that, speaking with reporters, contributing
quotes and information to studies on gays in the
military, and attempting to give the active-duty
LGBT community a voice.
During this time I was
still not out to many of my peers that I served
with in Korea. But as I became closer to my
buddies that I had worked with for years, I felt I
could no longer keep my sexuality a secret. To
some it came as a shock, but most of my peers had
already guessed that I was gay. On confirming my
sexuality to them, I was met with acceptance. They
understood that my sexuality had nothing to do
with how well I performed my job. Not
surprisingly, being honest with my co-workers
strengthened my bonds of trust with them. There
was no need for secrecy, no need to hide anymore.
Still, I didn’t disclose my sexual orientation
to everyone. I still ran the risk of being kicked
out if the wrong person found out and chose to use
it against me.
As for combat, I was
stationed in Iraq for several months, performing
logistics and supply missions. I was also part of
a shop that collected, analyzed, and disseminated
all the intelligence for northern Iraq. A small
group of us were deployed with an infantry platoon
to the tiny town of Rabiyah on the Iraqi Syrian
border, to perform an intelligence survey in the
area. Without warning, a suicide bomber drove into
the side our compound, destroying a section of our
perimeter and doing extensive damage to our
building and the neighboring ones. I was in the
building at the time, and I immediately ran for my
gear and prepared to face whatever attack might
follow. At that moment I wasn’t worried about my
sexuality, and my peers that I was with weren’t
either.
I learned a lesson the
day I met with General Shalikashvili, one that
would continue to prove true as I met with
individuals across the country: in a fact and
experience based discussion about "Don’t
Ask, Don’t Tell," the rationale for keeping
the policy in place falls apart. We live in an age
where generals and junior enlisted understand that
sexuality does not affect one’s performance in
the Armed Services. In the words of General John
Shalikashvili, "we must welcome the service
of any American who is willing and able to do the
job."
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