|
“We all have the same story. When you read mine,
you see yourself. When I read yours, I see myself,”
says Esera Tuaolo. Tuaolo, who played in the NFL
for nine years, began publicly telling his story
four years ago when he came out as gay on HBO’s
“Real Sports.” One of only a handful of
professional athletes to do so, Tuaolo has just
published his memoir, Alone in the Trenches: My
Life as a Gay Man in the NFL. It is the
compelling story of life in the macho fraternity of
the NFL. Lambda10.org freelance writer Jeff Sapp
spoke extensively with Tuaolo. Here are excerpts
from their discussion.
You went to college at Oregon State and you state in
your book that it was approximately 65% Greek when
you attended. You pledged Pi Kappa Alpha. I’m
curious if you heard from anyone in Pi Kappa Alpha
after you came out?
I heard from two guys and both were wonderful and
supportive. One had been in my pledge class. Both
apologized asking for forgiveness if they’d ever
said anything negative or homophobic. I did hear
that someone wrote positively about me in Pi Kappa
Alpha’s The Shield and Diamond, the
fraternity’s quarterly magazine. My book just came
out on March 14th, so maybe I’ll hear
from brothers in the coming months.
How do you define “brotherhood”?
In Pi Kappa Alpha, brotherhood involved tradition.
Our secret codes of tradition made it feel special.
It was about sticking by your brother no matter
what. If one of us did something, we all did it.
You often refer to “the NFL fraternity.” Why do
you call the NFL a fraternity?
I simply referred to it that way because, as a
fraternity is exclusive to men, so is the NFL. Both
are definitely men’s clubs.
You wrote that you struggled to survive the
combative, macho world dominated by a culture that
despised who you really were. I’m curious if campus
fraternity life, where the code can also be
hyper-masculine, equipped you for life in an NFL.
No, fraternity life didn’t really prepare me for the
NFL. In our fraternity, being macho meant getting
chicks. I wasn’t interested in women so my brothers
had no competition from me in that regard. But now
football, it’s about one-to-one combat. It’s like
be a gladiator and going to war.
You said the NFL’s macho code meant that a gay
player would be “outcast for life,” that the
tight-knit devotion to the macho code superseded
devotion to a teammate. That doesn’t sound very
fraternal to me. Is it?
It is except for sexuality. A player could come
back after being arrested for drugs or for beating
his wife and players would welcome him back with
open arms. But that wasn’t the case for me. My
sexuality made me a problem. Imagine if I was still
playing and I dominated a player on the field. He
would become the center of all of the jokes from his
team and, trust me, from the press as well. Radio
shows would be saying, “So-and-so was taken down by
a faggot!”
You also wrote a lot about fear in your memoir. You
stated, “I had wasted so much energy on my fear.”
Now that you’re on the other side of fear, now that
you’re liberated, what do you hope to put your
efforts toward and accomplish?
Saving lives. That’s it. Pure and simple. I don’t
want anyone to go through what I went through. I
felt such despair and hopelessness. I want my story
to give hope.
You mentioned that you were a cartoon junkie as a
child and played superhero. You mentioned
throughout your book that imagination often kept you
sane as a gay man. Does imagination play a part in
your life today?
Oh! Imagination is crucial! I just know that the
author of, say a book like
Peter Pan had to have had our problems to come up
with a place like Never Land where he could go and
never get hurt. Pretending is a way to make
everything great. Imagination still plays a great
part in my life except now it is through the eyes of
my and Mitchell’s children. Our imaginative play is
fun and safe. Fortunately, I don’t have to go to a
place of imagination anymore to be safe. Now I just
go home.
You wrote, “music has the power to connect us with
others and with ourselves.” What are some of your
favorite songs and why?
I don’t really have favorites, I just love whatever
music touches me. I grew up with great Mo Town
artists like Aretha Franklin singing
“R-E-S-P-E-C-T!” I loved that song because respect
is all I ever wanted in life. I really love Kelly
Clarkson’s “Some Kind of Wonderful” because it
completely reminds me of Mitchell, my partner.
“Prayed for an angel to come in the night
and shine some sweet light on me. Found only
strangers. Then you came to me
just when I'd given up, you gave me love.”
Speaking of Mitchell, your book is also a love
story. You say that Mitchell’s persistence and love
kept you alive. And it’s a story about family.
What is it like being a dad?
It’s amazing. When gay people decide to have
children we give it such intense thought and
planning. Because of this, our children are so
wanted and loved.
You grew up in fundamentalist religion. How has
being immersed in religion helped you in your
current work for equity and justice?
I always encourage any radio or television show I’m
on to bring on a religious fundamentalist. People
aren’t educated about being gay. It comes as a
surprise to them that I’m Christian and, thus, my
faith manifests itself in a more loving form. There
is no condemnation, only love. I know my Bible
well. I have come to realize that we are not sin,
but are a labor of the love of God. What most of
us, as gay people, have learned in church just is
not the truth. I was born gay. And we are all
children of God. Period.
Do you ever feel that you have to come out as a gay
man to the heterosexual world and then also come out
as a spiritual man to the gay and lesbian world?
That is so true. Gay brothers and lesbian sisters
never expect me to be Christian for some reason. I
read somewhere that something like 80% of GLBTQ
people were raised in a church of some kind, but
somewhere along the way they turn their backs on
it. I say to churches, “The book of Revelations
says to ‘beware of false prophets’ and that is what
you are doing if you shut your doors to GLBTQ
people. And I believe God will shut His doors to
you.” And I say to GLBTQ people, “The Bible is a
book of love and the gospel is a message of
compassion.”
There is only one aspect of your book that I
disliked a great deal.
Oh no! What was it?
I want to read you some direct quotes:
When writing about steroids on p. 73, you say, “They
may have looked like Tarzan, but they played like
Jane.”
“I introduced Mitchell to people as a friend. He is
not a girlie man, so he passed easily for a buddy”
(p. 212).
“’Cher’ and ‘macho fans’ aren’t often used in the
same sentence” (p. 239).
“I’ve had to break stereotypes even in the gay
community. Some people expect me to be different
now that I’m out, to talk in a higher voice or act
like a woman. That’s just not me. I grew up in a
straight way. Even now that I’m out, I’m too
straight for the gay community, but I’m too gay for
the straight community. Some friends feel they have
to act like a girl once they’re out. Their voice
goes up an octave – from a bass to a soprano. I
never felt the need to be a Nellie” (p. 274).
These are incredibly misogynistic and sexist
statements. In all of these quotes, you spin the
feminine as negative. What does this mean to you as
the father of a little girl, that the macho world
sees feminine as negative? And how will you
confront sexism in the same way you’re confronting
homophobia?
Oh my gosh! I am so sorry! It just didn’t occur to
me that this was a message in my book. It stems
from being in the macho world of football, I know.
I am so glad you are being direct with me about
this. And I promise to really work on it. Could
you send me the notes you made on where I said this
so that I can really study it? Do you have anything
that I can read that will help me confront my own
bias?
I know just the right book. It’s by Bell Hooks and
is titled The Will To Change: Men, Masculinity
and Love. Hooks addresses maleness and
masculinity and confronts the realities of
patriarchy.
Rosie O’Donnell contacted you when you came out in
2002 and told you, “Now when somebody else comes
out, you have a responsibility to reach out to
them.” Who have you reached out to?
Of course, as I mentioned numerous times in the
book,
David Kopay’s book saved my life. I’m convinced
of that. So he’s a good friend now. And
Billy Bean has reached out to me and supported
me. I haven’t met Cheryl Swoop but she and I have
the same publicist. I asked him to tell her that I
thought what she did was phenomenal and that if she
needed anything at all, to please contact me.
Mostly, those I’ve helped are the lone teenage
athlete who feels like they, too, are the only one
going through this. And that was definitely a goal
of mine to be able to help and support people who
are alone and afraid. There just simply isn’t a
reason to feel alone anymore.
Your speaking engagements have to do with creating a
world of tolerance. How do you define “tolerance’?
You know, we all start off as prisoners, afraid to
tell people who we truly are. When we come out, we
feel free. Tolerance is accepting people for who
they are. Tolerance is being able to live and give
each other respect.
LEARN MORE:
 Interested
campuses may book Esera Tuaolo as a guest lecturer through his agent Mike De'Andrea by emailing
miked@greatertalent.com.
Support Lambda 10 in helping LGBT & ally youth and
tell them you're a referral.
Alone
in the Trenches
is available at your local bookstore or on
www.amazon.com
Read
an interview with Tuaolo a mere month after he came
out in 2002 at
Tolerance.org
Find
out more about the life, love and work that Esera
Tuaolo does by visiting his website at
www.bigE98.com.
Jeff Sapp is an activist educator and writer from
Montgomery, Alabama. This is his first contribution
to Lambda10.org. |
