On Friday, I read a short blog on The Guardian’s website written by a public health nurse and titled “What I’m Thinking: The Sexual Health Nurse.” The anonymous author wrote:

“I recently treated a hepatitis B sufferer who needed an injection. He was a guy in scruffy clothes; underneath he wore women's underwear. I didn't raise an eyebrow. That is my job – the nonjudgmental holder of people's sexual secrets.”

A few days later, a news release from the Journal of the American Medical Association stated that a study put out by Public Health Ontario had found that nearly seven percent of all cases of gonorrhea did not respond to traditional antibiotic treatments.

Although this may be news to many, the fact that we may be entering an age where traditional pharmacological treatments are no longer effective is not news to epidemiologists, public health officials or microbiologists.

The bacteria that cause gonorrhea are showing resistance to cephalosporin, a class of antiobiotics used to treat the disease. In February of 2012, The Atlantic’s Megan McArdle wrote about drug-resistant sexually transmitted infections, noting that even the CDC believes that antibiotic-resistant STIs are on their way.

Both articles got me thinking about how we promote information about sexual health.

Talk to people in public health, specifically sexual health, and they will tell you that one of the hardest things they face is reaching out to certain communities, such as men who have sex with men. Traditionally, the most effective way to disseminate information to men who have sex with men (including gay men, bisexual men, men who identify as straight but have occasional sex with other men, and men who do not identify sexual contact with other men as being sex) was through postering, pamphlets and occasional face-to-face communication in areas where they congregated: gay bars, bathhouses, etc. These were often places where sex would happen, or preludes to sex would come to pass.

But today, preludes to sexual contact between men who have sex with men are becoming increasingly virtual. Online personal ads and phone apps have removed the physical spaces that could be occupied and have information available to those who wanted it. You would pass by a poster on a wall or someone would hand you a free condom with a pamphlet.

It’s not the same anymore. Occupying a virtual space is not as effective as occupying a real one. The onus is on the other person to click on your ad/profile/etc to actively read and absorb the information that would’ve otherwise been gathered through other means. It’s looking for active participation in what was previously a much more passive way of spreading information.

It's not an easy job. And kudos to the people who work at it. 

*

A few months ago, I found myself having a discussion with a friend who is a high-school teacher. We discussed how teenagers are taught about sex, but only from a reproductive aspect. I likened it to teaching someone how to drive by explaining the inner workings of the car but not telling them how to drive, how to put the key in the ignition and least of all, telling them how to take care of the car.

“Or how to deal with what happens if you scratch the car,” he continued.

We don't teach kids how to keep their cars in tune. How can we expect them -- when they become more experienced drivers -- to know how to talk to their mechanics, let alone feel comfortable in doing so?

An old activist friend of mine once said to me, "If you can't talk about sex, then maybe you shouldn't be having it." As old-fashioned as that may sound, it does ring somewhat true. So how do we talk about sex? How do we talk about all the things around it? 

The answer: we do just that. Talk.

In as many ways, in as many places as we can.   

 

This is a day where I remember.

Silence=Death, Keith Haring, 1989.

I've written before about what it was like growing up during the AIDS crisis.

I don't think of those men often. Perhaps I should. The least I could do is think about them today, and what they taught me.

They taught me to talk. To learn. To think.

In recent months, I've made a point of reading up about HIV/AIDS. From reading personal blogs to research on HIV prevention to dialogues around everything from bareback pornography and more. There are stories that need to be heard, understood and shared. As a journalist, I think it's important to help do this.

In a recent op-ed written by Michael Burtch, the author points out many of the issues still felt by people who are poz:

 

 

 

It's nice to be reminded that just because you don't fit a certain paradigm doesn't mean that you don't fit at all.

In a recent story posted on The Atlantic's website, the author discusses the recent changes and publication of the fifth edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, or DSM-5. This is the same manual that did not fully remove homosexuality as a psychological illness or condition until 1987. The author, Amelia Rachel Hokule’a Borofsky, demonstrates that the same desire amongst gays and lesbians to have the DSM changed is now being echoed by people who identify with the transgender spectrum, specifically around the diagnosis of gender identity disorder:

"It is hard not to see the parallels between the diagnosis of homosexuality and the latest heat around gender identity disorder (GID). At the annual APA meeting in San Francisco in 2009, protesters once again gathered to lobby against continued inclusion of this diagnosis in the DSM-5. During the comment period, GID received more comments than any other diagnosis up for discussion. It's worth reading the entire diagnosis, but the last version of the manual, the DSM-IV (TR), identifies the disorder as "a strong persistent cross-gender identification ... [and] a repeatedly stated desire to be, or insistence that he or she is, the other sex." Basically, the diagnosis is "transgendered."

One theme that Borofsky mentions in her article is how the DSM-5 is essentially a distillation of Western ideology around gender and sexuality. She goes on to mention that many other cultures don't ascribe to binary gender norms:

Native activist and scholar Will Roscoe found documentation of third and even fourth genders in more than 150 North American tribes. In Samoa, the term fa'afafine refers to a biological man who lives as a woman. Samoans appreciate fa'afafine for their hard work and dedication to family, and for the large part offer them social acceptance. 

Perhaps it is Western society that needs to have its head examined more closely and not the people it wishes to diagnose as "ill" simply for being who they are.

 

This morning, CBC's Nova Scotia website reported about a recent upswing in cases of syphilis.

The article states that 47 men in the HRM have tested positive this year, up from 35 last year. The story also discusses how many of the men who tested positive often met other men online. Holly D'Angelo-Scott, a senior epidemiologist at Capital Health told the CBC that "when we look to see the connections between cases, a lot of our cases are meeting their sexual partners through the internet. That's probably a common link between some of the cases."

It's a tricky business to talk about sexual health to the masses, especially when you're hoping to reach certain demographics -- in this case, men who have sex with men. It can be tricky with men who have sex with men (MSM) because you're dealing with a population that doesn't always want to be identified, or even identifies with that moniker.

Let's say you're a straight-identified, married man named X. To X, sex is what he does with his wife/girlfriend/et cetera. He loves her and enjoys having sex with her. Sex involves very specific forms of physical intimacy with that one person. But X also happens to occasionally meet certain men to do certain things. It could be in public places, it could be online, it could be in a bathhouse. For X, what happens in those locations and in those times may not be viewed as sex, because it isn't the same forms of physical intimacy that he engages with his wife/girlfriend/et cetera. So when a local news source posts a story about a recent upswing in STI rates amongst MSM, it doesn't faze him, because it doesn't affect him. He doesn't think what he's doing is having sex with men.

So how do you reach X? How do you reach a population that doesn't want to be identified or outed?

At this stage in the game, the best way to do this is to use broad strokes when talking to the public.

The CBC story never uses any terminology that denotes sexual orientation in its description of the men. It does, however, indicate that "all the 115 confirmed syphilis cases since that time have been men" and includes a quote from a Capital Health staffer: "It is possible that there will be a progression from this population of men who have sex with men to women." Here, they are talking about X. They are talking to X. And hopefully X will get the message.

This is not to say that X is emblematic of every MSM who doesn't want to be identified. X may be closeted. X may have myriad reasons for not wanting to be counted amongst MSM. Those reasons are X's alone. But X is amongst the population of MSM. 

I am amongst that population. And I have many friends, as well as current and former lovers, who are as well.

It doesn't matter what the STI is or how and when a person may or may not contract it. What matters is getting the information out there without a heavy-handed message or propagandist polemic. And I take it as my personal responsibility to share that information with as many people as possible. With friends, colleagues, internet followers and more. Because it's an important story. It's a story about your -- and everyone's -- health.

 

 

 

So last week was National Coming Out Day. 

And then Ann Coulter had to ruin it.

Sigh.

Apparently Ms Coulter thought she was being funny.

Now, I am not a humourless individual. I think lots of things are funny. In fact, I think Coulter is downright hilarious. Have you listened to what she has to say? This is a woman who recently argued that racism in the US was stopped dead in its tracks in 1964. No, that's not a joke. That's what she said on Bill Maher, using her own brand of semantics.

Maybe she wrote that tweet for her friends at the gay republican group GOProud, who called her a gay icon. Now that's so funny, it's downright ridiculous. 

Well, GLAAD didn't think any of this was funny. On their website, they responded to the tweet by saying:

I have no doubt that last week, more than a few American households experienced the tragedy that Ann joked about. Approximately 50% of LGBT youth experience some degree of family rejection. There are as many as 100 thousand homeless LGBT youth on our nation's streets, and it's estimated that LGBT youth make up as much as 40% of our nation's homeless youth population. LGBT youth who are completely rejected by their parents are more than 8 times as likely to have attempted suicide. Pretty funny, right?

Indeed. It's a riot.

 

The first person I told that I was gay was my best friend Tim.

He knew. Tim was gay too.

I was a pretty obviously gay kid. I once had a family friend tell me that she knew that I was gay when I was four. I was shocked when I told my parents about my being gay that they didn't think I was.  Ignorance and blindness are bliss, I guess.

I told Tim a few days before my 16th birthday.  I don't remember the conversation, but I do remember the date. Oct 11, 1992. What I didn't know is that Oct 11 was National Coming Out Day.

After that day, I came out to more and more people. To my classmates. To my teachers, one of whom never told me that she was a lesbian (at least not until I graduated) but said and did things that made me feel like I could talk to her.  I always appreciated that from her.

I remember telling one girl in my class, and she said to me, "I can't believe you admit it." 

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I mean that it's not easy to admit being gay," she said. It was the early 1990s. I was living in rural Nova Scotia. The guys I grew up with played hockey and drank. Our parents worked in fishing or logging. The village I grew up in is home to North America's largest wooden church -- not exactly a beacon of openness around sexual variations. My friend applauded me for coming out.  When I told the rest of my classmates, they soon began to rally around me if and when anybody ever said anything mean about me.

I remember being at a party a year or so later, when the brother of one of my friends said something derogatory about me. My friend bolted upright and berated her brother in front of everyone at this party. She didn't talk to him for a couple days. I was moved. I hadn't expected anyone to defend me, just for being open and honest about who I was.

Coming out made me stronger. It made me realize that honesty to one's self is more important than anything else. I had denied being gay as long as I had known what it was. But I couldn't deny myself.  

So thank you to the people who listened. Thank you to the people who defended me. Thank you to the people who helped me forge a path to be where I am now. Out and proud.

 

A recent story out of Halifax tells of how a gay man is now facing charges, including assault with a weapon and possession of a dangerous weapon. Why? Because he pepper sprayed a 14-year-old girl who allegedly harassed his boyfriend.

According to a CBC interview with the accused, Christopher Whittle, the girl had allegedly been coming in "every few days" to his boyfriend's place of work at a local mall and would call him "a faggot, fruit whatever," according to him. He told the CBC, "After so much of this going on, and seeing how this affected [my boyfriend] – someone you love being tortured in this way, it does something to you. It really does."

Whittle claims that after hearing of and witnessing the taunts, he "snapped" and went to his car to get pepper spray, which he says he keeps for purposes of self-defence. He discharged the spray near the parking lot of the shopping mall. Whittle has also been quoted as saying that he did not know the age of the girl, believing her to be older.

The girl's father says that his daughter is not homophobic and that in fact, "Anyone who knows her knows that she is just not like that. Her godfather is gay.”

Firstly, I don't believe in violence, nor do I condone it. This is not to say that many of us, myself included, have not had urges to do or say something violent toward another when we feel that we or someone we love has been wronged. It is human to feel that we must protect those we love.  

Having said that, I don't agree with Whittle's supposed actions in pepper spraying the individual he says harassed his partner. It doesn't matter what age they are or appear to be. There are many other ways to deal with this situation. Some people might say to call the police, but then again, we don't know if Whittle or his partner would be comfortable in doing so. Whittle and his partner may have also spoken with the administration of the store or the mall, as well as the security company that patrols the mall. It is, after all, a private space that allows the public access to it; therefore, they have the right to block the person who was harassing Whittle's boyfriend.

But to me, that is not the biggest issue here.

The father of the 14-year-old girl is trying to defend his own daughter against what he perceives as a potential public smear of her reputation by branding her as homophobic.

The parents seem, at least by virtue of their comments, to be mortified by their daughter's alleged actions and are looking to reprimand her for her behaviour.  I think they should be applauded for that. Let's say that she was a victim of peer pressure and just "fell in with the wrong crowd," made a mistake,  and may even ostensibly be repentant of her actions.

But we can not say that these supposed actions were not homophobic. Because that is exactly what they were. Let's say for the sake of argument that she did indeed do these things. It doesn't matter if they are out of character for her; it doesn't remove the fact that one can make a choice to go into that store and say things that were not appropriate, warranted or deserved. Just like it's never okay to go out and pepper spray someone -- no matter what your intentions, frame of mind or character -- it's never okay to direct homophobic language toward another human being. It's never okay to be violent toward another human being in any way.

In a recent article in The Huffington Post,  a repentant Brother Ali remarks that even though he is apologetic and sincere in his remorse about his use of the word faggot in his lyrics, he knows that his actions have "left an indelible print that can not be erased." These two individuals will always be known, either publicly or privately,  as individuals who commited acts that may brand them as being homophobic or violent. This is not to say that the alleged actions by these two individuals are not worthy of acts of contrition. If anything, Whittle has already begun to do so in a very public manner in his media interview, stating that "I do regret how I handled it. I could have handled it differently." 

Dealing with homophobia and violence are difficult things. But there is always room for improvement, and part of that comes through forgiveness. It may be easier for everyone involved, including the public who reads about these stories, to forgive these two. They are the ones who will always remember and know what happened, longer than we ever will. 

In a recent posting on The Huffington Post, emcee Brother Ali tackles a topic that has been gaining momentum in both queer and mainstream press: homophobia (and, by extension, hatred) in hip hop.

The piece, titled "The Intersection of Homophobia and Hip Hop: Where Tyler Met Frank," is an honest confession of Ali's former ignorance in the usage of the term "faggot" in his lyrics, as well as in his private life. In the opening paragraphs, Ali discusses his own usage of the term:

 

Ali goes on to describe a situation in which a fan overhears (and subsequently contacts him about it) him trying to educate a colleague about the colleague's own homophobia. This is where the piece gets interesting. Ali admits his fault in using "faggot" and more so, acknowledges the fact that even though he is now apologizing for it, his words and music will always be out there.

My use of the f-word more than a decade ago in the song "Dorian" off Shadows On The Sun continued to echo in a space in which I no longer dwelled. That word and that mind-set would continue to be perpetuated through me, a man who had grown to understand more, but whose actions had left an indelible print that could not be erased.[...]My world was pretty small and bleak when I wrote that album. Since then I've been fortunate enough to tour the world, read James Baldwin and develop deep friendships with musicians whom I love and respect and who are openly gay.

In short, the world gave me another chance. But those words are there forever.

Ali goes on to discuss how denigration is used as a way to prove manhood in hip hop and in culture in general. Men are faggots because they don't stand up to culturally or socially appropriate measures of masculinity or heterosexuality. Not because they are gay. And therein lies the explanation around the usage of "faggot" and "gay" by pop culture in general. The argument that when someone says, “That’s gay,” they don’t mean “that’s homosexual in character,” they mean “that’s dumb/stupid/forgettable/ridiculous.” Like when Tyler the Creator reportedly used the term faggot more than 200 times on his album Goblin. I have never made any effort to listen to Tyler’s music. Why? Because I read in the gay press that he used the term all the time. He didn’t lose a fan. He just didn’t gain one.

However, I was (and am) willing to give Tyler the benefit of the doubt, because of his very vocal support for his friend Frank Ocean, who recently came out. Ali, however, is there to remind his readers not to let him off that easy.

When addressing the criticism in an interview with NME, Tyler absolves himself of any responsibility by claiming that he's not aiming the word at gay people in particular, but just using it as a synonym of weakness and stupidity. "I'm not homophobic. I just think 'f****t' hits and hurts people. It hits. And 'gay' just means you're stupid. I don't know, we don't think about it, we're just kids. We don't think about that s--t. But I don't hate gay people. I don't want anyone to think I'm homophobic."

Congratulations, Tyler. You still are homophobic. You may be friends with Frank and defend him and applaud him in the press, but your lyrics and your statement are still homophobic. Because you "don’t think about that shit" is not an excuse. It just makes you intellectually lazy.

It reminds me of that scene in Louis CK's show Louie where he and his friends ask their lone gay comedian buddy about the use of the term faggot. No one wants to stop anyone from expressing their opinions and their ideas. Even when we don't agree with them. Just know what those words mean.

So yeah. Tyler, you didn’t lose a fan, you just lost the opportunity to gain one.

But Ali? You most certainly gained a fan. A vocal one.

To me, it feels like the last real weekend of summer.

The upcoming weeks and weekends will be like a final tease, a few last breaths of summer weather to tide us over until fall comes. This morning was the first time I wore a sweater to go outside in months. It was a small thing to do, but as soon as my arms went through the sleeves, I remembered what was coming. Cool nights. Leaves changing colour.

It's been an amazing summer here in Halifax. We celebrated 25 years of Pride, had theatre festivals and had beautiful beachy weekends. We mourned and remembered and praised. 

There is more to come this fall. Film festivals. Art festivals. Events. You'll find it here. I look forward to telling you about it.

A song to take you away for the long weekend.

A recent story popularized by Gawker tells the story of a German father who was spotted wearing a skirt.

This doesn't sound all that interesting, until you learn that the aforementioned father was wearing a skirt so that his son, who likes to wear dresses, can feel good about his wardrobe choices.

Via Gawker: "I didn't want to talk my son into not wearing dresses and skirts," Pickert tells the German feminist magazine EMMA. "He didn't make friends in doing that in Berlin already and after a lot of contemplation I had only one option left: To broaden my shoulders for my little buddy and dress in a skirt myself. Now[...]he's simply smiling, when other boys ( and it's nearly always boys) want to make fun of him and says: "You only don't dare to wear skirts and dresses because your dads don't dare to either." That's how broad his own shoulders have become by now. And all thanks to daddy in a skirt."

This reminds me of something I saw recently. I was at my niece's fourth birthday party. There were five kids there, all girls, save for one boy. The boy was about three and was having fun playing with the toys, having cake and ice cream. He also liked to push my niece's toy vacuum cleaner around the house. When it was time for presents, my niece received a gift of a collection of "princess" dresses. She tore open the box, begging to be allowed to put on the dresses "right now!"

My sister acquiesced, but only on the condition that she let the other girls at the party wear the dresses, too. Well, the little boy felt a little left out of the festivities and asked to put on a dress, too. Without skipping a beat, the boy's father helped the boy put on the princess gown. He put on the accompanying tiara, smiled, picked up the vacuum and posed for a picture with the rest of the princesses.

I sent my sister a message to relay to the boy's parents.

I can't tell you how much it meant to me to see *'s dad help him put on a dress. I know it seems like a trivial thing -- as it should be, I think -- but the fact that *'s parents thought it was great, creative, productive, inclusive and normal to let * express himself in whatever way he saw fit -- whether they fit binary gender norms or not -- was amazing to me.

There are great parents out there. And they should be praised.