Things I gay ask myself at my new job

Am I a gay pioneer?

I grew up in a small town in Ohio that had thriving theater and arts programs all supported by a community of rich old ladies. Every year you’d hear of another kid who graduated, came out to their parents, and moved to New York City or Chicago and became an artisan or stage actor. Or if they didn’t make it big, you’d see the gays stay local, jumping from one customer service job to another.

I am no artist. Patterns are my muse, and research is my medium. I left town to work in manufacturing, which is probably toward the bottom on the list of gay American industries.

It gets me thinking about all the gays that have come before me. Did they exist? Did they have wives? Are they still around, and in the closet? Would I have made it this far 30 years ago? Will I one of many to come, or am I destined to be the unicorn in this forest?

How do I tell my coworkers I am gay?

Everybody in manufacturing is married, or about to be married, with children. There’s no wonder why: if you get into the right kind of manufacturing, you’re looking at some of the most stable jobs with the best benefits. So this creates a culture where everyone relates to one another by talking about family.

I’ve taken the approach in life to always assume that people know that I am gay. I’m not sure how fine-tuned society’s gaydar is these days, especially when judging millennial man-nerds. So I find ways to casually say “my partner” when talking about my personal life, hoping that the word partner is latent enough that people can put man-and-man together without needing any more explanation. Most of the time people get the hint and barely acknowledge that I’ve just announced my stigma. But then there’s always the one guy who goes “your what?”, probably thinking I mean like business partner or something. So I have to pause for a second, look them square in the eye, and say forcefully but graciously “my partner, Derek.” I can then see the wheels turning as I continue on with the small talk about weather or traffic.

I feel lucky to have a partner in my personal life as I navigate my sexuality in my professional life. Gays can get married now. Since I’m able to say I live a life like you, but with a man, and we could get married just like you, I think my coworkers find something familiar, though atypical, about my young adulthood. Would my coworkers react so plainly if I were gay without a partner or a family? How would I even come out?

Does anyone care that I’m gay?

I didn’t come out of the closet until I was 20. My small town was pretty homophobic, so I learned how to pass as “normal” in order to fit in. But still, my boss likes to say “You’re wearing a lot of colors today” when I wear a lot of colors, or “that shirt is loud” when my shirt is loud. Sometimes I worry that my stigma, or my brightly colored clothes, or my lack of interests in sports and Fox News, will give a coworker an excuse to infantilize me and rob me of acknowledgement that I deserve. But then I wonder: will this all change when the next generation is in charge? What should I do in the meantime?

I mean, Tim Cook is gay, so that’s something.