All-Life Crisis

Whenever I begin to sense I’ve figured out life for what it truly is, everything changes, and I’m back to square one. Everything changes – always. It’s an ongoing pattern that continues myself right back to mystification. An endless streak of struggle and unease is what composes my life storyline. Progression is an illusion. Control, and tranquility is what I can gain. I set my contentment, not my success or social status. Discovering the meaning of life is realizing the meaning is *this* – right now. Regulating my temperament and accepting my nature are my sole objectives. Perceiving life as a means to an end infers there is a tangible end that will make life worthwhile- but there isn’t. There is no end, only means. If I’m content, I’m complete. Happiness is now. And now.

Don’t Jump the Gun on Labels

Adja Gildersleve had essentially no idea who I was when I asked if I could ride along with her to Rochester for a ‘National Coming Out Day’ event. She had a head filled with burdens, as she was asked last minute to learn a couple different guitar pieces, as well as compiling together a set list for her show. Oh and, she desperately needed an oil change. This was all apparently insignificant though, as she quickly replied to my Facebook message with an enthusiastic ‘definitely’.

I saw Adja perform a couple weeks previous to our car ride when she was at Acoustic, and again one early Saturday morning when she was spryly jamming away with a group of friends outside of ZaZa’s. I was captivated with her unique stage presence (she performs barefoot) and charismatic sounds. So clearly, I was eager to formally meet this lively young lady.

As soon as we left I swiftly began spilling out handfuls of questions, each in which she had a highbrow reply followed with a kindhearted “What about you?” directed back at me. We chatted enthusiastically about how much race should play into Obama’s campaign, the nebulousness of the constitution, and how the suggested path of education can sometimes be problematic. Adja, a political science major, offered me insight in virtually every topic we brushed on. I appreciated her uprightness, even when she could see me precipitously jotting down quotes in my notepad. I was convinced I was going to be writing a piece on the event in Rochester, but realized halfway through the car ride that Adja deserved her own piece.

What I discovered to be most insightful of my conversation with Adja was her discernments on how society influences us to choose a label. The subject was triggered by my lethargic attempt at unfolding our discussion to the event we were en route to.

“So umm, are you gay then?”

I instantly cringed; wishing I could reach out and snatch my tactless words and put them back in my mouth. But to my surprise she smiled, and let out a lighthearted chuckle. Adja explained to me why she believed it wasn’t as black and white as I presented it to be, and I immediately understood what she was saying.

We are crammed with multifaceted sensations as we incessantly undergo complex stages of establishing our disposition. During these stages of figuring out who we truthfully are, what if we don’t know which gender we are attracted to? Are we supposed to dimly choose one, and go with it? What if we’re wrong? All these questions clogged the notion that we all settle under one defining orientation.

“Labeling makes it easer”, she explained, “Our culture expects you to choose one side, even if you feel like you don’t know.” Adja informed me of the Kinsey scale, which was created in 1948 by Alfred Kinsey in order to resolve the bigoted division between heterosexuality and homosexuality. Instead of declaring one or the other, the Kinsey scale describes a person’s sexuality by examining their sexual history at a given time. A person’s position on the scale can change; due to whatever lifestyle is being practiced at the given time. This made a lot more sense to me, and seemed to emphasis the importance of everyone being a counterpart more than isolated, concrete classes.

The event, which was held at the Civic Center Theatre, was much more intimate than I expected it to be. The program sincerely released me into a new perspective. Along with a delightful performance from Adja, youth performers, and keynote speakers were at hand. It didn’t really concern me if the people on stage were gay, or straight – their stories were all exceptional to their independence.

Gale Julius, a Rochester resident, had the packed theatre on the verge of tears as she presented her hardships of being a homosexual woman. The bullying done to her in high school brought her close to suicide, she was barred from teaching CCD classes at her local church when members found out she was gay, and she was even made an experiment by a California church that continued to ‘pray the gay away’ every Sunday mass. You could sense the ache in her voice from the endless onslaught she faced. Gale is now the president and founder of the gay-straight alliance at the high school she was once bullied at.

As we look back at a successful ‘National Coming Out Week’, it’s important to remember the impact each one of us can make. Stop forcing labels, and start digging deeper into dialogue to unravel the authenticity of individuals. Gay, straight, bisexual, whatever– everyone is remarkable, and deserves to be listened to.

–Noah Fish

***This story, along with other WSU related stories is available in this weeks’ WINONAN- available at every campus newsstand.