Sheldon

Pride. Day 24.

The only photograph I have of Sheldon Williams, is this one, sitting in the living room of the house that I shared with my best friend and roommate, Cody. It was so like Sheldon to hide his face from the camera. What I love about this photo is that he is as much hiding as he is reading me, you can see the snap forming in those fingertips, just before he probably said, “Bitch, get that camera out of my face!”

Sheldon was a dancer and incredibly athletic. He was unmistakably gay; flamboyant and graceful. He would sometimes walk across campus singing in high-pitch falsetto and would openly gape at the very good looking guys playing frisbee with their shirts off. One time I observed a group of redneck-looking guys trying to catch Sheldon, presumedly to beat him up, chasing him onto a large lawn besides our recital hall. They didn’t have a chance. I watched as Sheldon ran from these boys, bouncing across the lawn in giant leaps well ahead of them, then circling back, running around the lawn a few times taunting them… as if to say, “You will not silence this fabulousness!” He knew he was being watched, and it wasn’t like him to be defeated.

I knew Sheldon both before and immediately after I came out of the closet. Sheldon wasn’t actually a student nor a teacher, and he was about a decade older than us students. Many of us were confused about his role on campus. Looking back, I think he was working as an assistant to the dance department, although he was never introduced as such. He was; however, present for every dance class I ever took. Before I came out, he terrified me. He would sometimes stop dead in his tracks, look me straight in the eye, and say, “Well, hello. How are you?” I would stand there dumbstruck, terrified of what everyone around me was thinking. I’m embarrassed to say that I was often quite rude to Sheldon, ignoring him or saying something like “Buzz off, weirdo.”

If I hurt Sheldon’s feelings during those days, you would never know it. After I came out, he was incredibly kind and warm toward me. In between dance classes together, he would teach me about ball culture and was showing me how to vogue long before Madonna put out her famous song. He ALWAYS had multiple safety pins pinned to his clothing, which everyone thought was strange, but ended up taking advantage of on more than one occasion. At the time, I don’t know if I would have referred to Sheldon as my friend, but he proved to be one time and time again.

Once, cast as “Mordred,” in rehearsal for Camelot, I was baffled at why the chorus would laugh during one of my dance routines in rehearsal each time I kicked up my legs. Nobody explained it to me for days. Only Sheldon was kind enough to pull me backstage, hand me a dance belt and say, “ Everyone can see right through those tights sugar, let’s leave something to the imagination.” I never went commando in medieval tights again, an opportunity that has come up in my life more often than I’d like to admit. So, I will always be grateful for that.

Another time, when I was completely distraught after a nasty break-up with a boyfriend, Sheldon took me to his place, made me tea, and sat listening patiently as I went on and on, whining about how my life can’t go on. Growing up black and openly gay in a small town in Arkansas, Sheldon must have been annoyed that this privileged white kid was sitting in his kitchen, crying in his tea. But Sheldon never let on. He was incredibly patient and kind, listened closely and gave me advice on how to handle my situation. In short, he was indeed a good friend.

I came out at a time when there were not a lot of role models for young gay men, either in the media, or in our communities. To be blunt, a lot of the gay men just 10 years older than me were wiped out by the AIDS epidemic. So, I am so incredibly thankful that our lives crossed, however briefly. I’m not sure what ever happened to Sheldon. I hope life has treated him well. He was a fine example of how to live life true to yourself, while also being generous and kind to everyone around you.

To celebrate Pride Month, I am sharing daily posts about the celebrities, people, and experiences that have shaped my own gay perspective. I am in no way speaking for the LGBT community at large nor making claims that my experiences are somehow unique. This is just the personal history of a 40-something gay man.
Read more of these stories here.