Local social justice advocates, HIV/AIDS case workers and other community members organized the inaugural "Bolder Than Out" conference April 5-7 on the South Side.
For five years, a coalition has organized smaller events to mark the assignation of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., but this was the first conference the group organized.
The conference focused on HIV infection, youth homelessness, LGBT assimilation and interfaith issues, among others. Members of lesbian fraternal organizations, public health workers, faith leaders and others joined together to discuss these issues.
Former NFL player and openly gay man Wade Davis was the keynote of the conference, speaking about his own experiences with homophobia and coming out while playing football.
Davis grew up in a devoutly religious, African American household in Shreveport, La., surrounded by extended family.
Davis recalls his first understanding of queerness when, as a young boy, his grandfather called a masculinely dressed woman a bull dyke.
"I had no understanding of what [bull dyke] really meant, but I knew she was unacceptable," said Davis.
The piano player at church was a man who everyone knew was gay, but no one talked about it, they just warned Davis not to be alone with him because "he preyed on young boys."
"Then my understanding of queer was maybe they are pedophiles," said Davis.
Once Davis began playing football, he would play a game called "smear the queer," in which everyone tried to pile on one player.
"I had no real understanding of my own identity [as a child], but I knew to be queer was to be different. I knew it was wrong. So, when I realized I had an attraction to other men, I became a bully," said Davis. "I automatically knew I couldn't be who I was, so I did everything I could to push that away."
Davis dealt with his own internalized homophobia by calling others faggot and asserting his masculinity by routinely dating the most desired women in town.
"To be a man, I had to objectify women. We treat women as accessories to prove our manhood," said Davis. "I needed that heterosexual credit. I got that by having a beautiful woman on my arm."
In college, Davis had his first sexual experience with a man. Davis enjoyed it and could no longer lie to himself about his same-sex attractions. But he continued to maintain his heterosexual image.
"I spent every waking moment policing myself … I was tired all the time," said Davis.
NFL scouts started to come to Davis' college practices, asking his coaches if he was a ladies man. This spooked Davis, because he took it as the scout was asking if he was gay.
Once Davis began training with the NFL, players would tell him not to talk to other players they thought were bisexual if he wanted to make the team.
Davis scrutinized his every move. He was even concerned about running gay. And when Davis began dating men, he would refer to them as women to his teammates.
Davis' NFL career ended when he injured his knee, eventually moving to New York's Upper East Side. He befriended a gay man who lived in his building and began going to gay clubs. Davis would act hypermasculine, calling himself the "gay man's man."
"I didn't want to be perceived as feminine because that was perceived as negative," said Davis.
Once Davis began accessing the gay community in New York, he was invited to join a gay flag football league.
"From that moment my life was completely different," said Davis. "I remember feeling so at home."
Davis then met his current partner, who helped nudge Davis out of the closet. His partner wanted to be in a relationship with Davis, but couldn't be closeted or pretend he was something he's not.
"Who am I living for? How can I love myself, if I'm not living for myself?" said Davis.
Davis then started coming out to his family, including his mother. Her first reaction was, "That's an abomination," and her second was, "You're already Black."
Davis didn't fully understand the meaning of her second comment until later. His mother grew up as a Black woman during the civil-rights movement in the South, and that framed how she raised her children, giving her son the tools to survive as a Black man. He realized that his mother was upset because she hadn't taught her son how to survive as a Black gay man.
She then went on to say, everything her son has done means nothing and she would rather he have cancer or be in jail for life than be gay.
"I've never been as hurt as I was that day, watching a part of my mother die in front of me, knowing it was my fault," said Davis. "Coming out doesn't just affect us … there are other people who experience fallout."
Davis' mother eventually started to come around, and she met her son's partner for the first time in February.
Davis currently serves as the LGBT surrogate for President Barack Obama and works at the Hetrick-Martin Institute in New York City as the assistant director of job readiness, teaching life skills to at-promise LGBT youth. He ended his talk by urging adult LGBT people to give back to the youth, calling out the prioritization of gay marriage over issues of poverty and homelessness.
"What about these kids who aren't worried about these adult issues? We're failing our kids," said Davis. "Our young people can't become what they don't see, so make sure you're doing your work for the community."
