The gay film Scout's Honor airs on public TV this month. A special Chicago screening is being hosted by gay groups at 7 p.m., Tuesday, June 12 at the Sulzer Library, 4445 N. Lincoln. Sponsors of this free showing include the Howard Brown Health Center, Lambda Legal Defense and Education Fund, Horizons Community Services, the Chicago chapter of the Gay, Lesbian and Straight Education Network, About Face Theatre, Chicago Anti-Bashing Network and the Chicago chapter of GLB Veterans.
The film airs on WTTW Channel 11 Tuesday, June 19, 10 p.m.
by Lawrence Ferber
Three years ago, out San Francisco filmmaker Tom Shepard read something unusual: an article concerning a heterosexual 12-year-old upstart who was mounting a petition drive against the Boy Scouts of America's discriminatory policy against gays. Incredulous yet curious, Shepard called the rabble-rousing boy's family.
"I was impressed on the spot by what they were doing," he recalls of first meeting them. "Their level of conviction. And they weren't the type of folks one might expect mounting a gay rights crusade. They're from this town [ Petaluma ] , north of the Bay Area and in many ways they're an ordinary suburban family, yet what they were doing was really extraordinary. So I grabbed my DV camera and started shooting."
The family, of course, was that of Steven Cozza, and their crusade became a national organization, Scouting For All ( SFA ) , one of the primary subjects in Shepard's award-winning documentary on anti-gay discrimination in the BSA and those who fight it, Scout's Honor.
Airing June 19 on PBS' POV series, Scout's Honor focuses on a handful of key figures in the struggle—and their allies. Dave Rice, a heterosexual 71-year-old who was ousted after almost 50 years of BSA activities for his involvement with Scouting For All. Tim Curran, a gay scout ousted in 1980 whom eventually took his case to the California Supreme Court. James Dale, another ousted gay scout who more recently went all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court. And of course the Cozzas: Steven, his father Scott, and mother Jeanette. Conspicuously missing from the documentary, however, are the BSA heads themselves.
"They refuse to do interviews," Shepard shrugs. "I contacted them a dozen times to participate in the documentary at different levels and they give you this schpiel over and over again that 'homosexuality is incompatible with the scout oath and that homosexuals are not good role models for adolescents or boy scouts.' And they sort of leave it at that. They defer you to their PR person and you push further, like 'what about Dave Rice, he's not gay and he was kicked out over this policy.' And they say 'homosexuality is incompatible ... .' They clearly are not willing to speak out, so I'm really curious if when this thing broadcasts whether they're going to have a response. Is the BSA going to continue to cling to this archaic policy or become relevant and address the needs of all of its membership?"
The BSA was incorporated n Feb. 8, 1910 by William D. Boyce and Daniel Carter Beard, the latter of whom was inspired by a chance encounter one year earlier with a helpful Scout in England, where the Boy Scouts were founded in 1908. Shepard notes, perhaps unsurprisingly, that to a degree the BSA's birth was rooted in good ol' American homophobia. According to Shepard, who heavily researched the subject, our country's creation of the BSA was partially sparked off by a "masculinity crisis" that hit the nation. As rural, farm families relocated to cities, there was worry that their children would become "soft" or sissylike. BSA founders played upon that fear.
"This fear of sissies, saying 'here's an antidote, this really strong masculine, Christian organization which puts sons and fathers back together and out into the wilderness,'" Shepard says. Yet the homophobic, gay-exclusionary "policy," first brought to light in 1980 when then 18-year-old Curran was ousted, is also quite ironic and contradictory of the Scout's most basic tenets about fairness, doing "Good Turns," service to the community, and treating others well, not to mention the fact at least two biographers have determined the founding father of the Boy Scouts, British military hero Sir Robert Stephen Baden-Powell, was gay or bisexual himself. To boot, queers have always filled out the Scouts' ranks, both overseas and on our shores.
"The scouts have always been a place for gay boys and men," Shepard insists, "whether they recognize it or not. And a lot of gay men will tell you that scouting was an integral part of their life, it was a safe haven for them while growing up. A place where you didn't have to be the senior class president or captain of the football team. And if you're a gay boy it's a great place to learn skills and be getting accolades and NOT having to deal with your sexuality at 13 or 14. A lot of straight boys drop out of scouting—they get interested in girls and other things, so one could argue scouting is a perfectly wonderful safe haven for gay boys." Besides these facts, the whole gay issue is also a matter of dogma. "The Boy Scouts claim in all of their literature that they're open to all boys," Shepard adds, "and there's no mention of homosexuality. So the people in my film are attempting to hold them to their own words."
Shepard, a former Cub Scout and Webelo ( the BSA's program for 4th and 5th graders, which stands for "We'll Be Loyal Scouts" ) , admits he was "skeptical" of the BSA to begin with. Having grown up in conservative Colorado Springs, he recalls a strong local military presence and influence, which resulted in the Scouts being perceived as "paramilitary" and not open to diversity. Yet by the time he completed Scout's Honor, Shepard "had far more respect for the organization," he confesses.
"They have these amazing outdoor, environmental education programs, and also just teaching kids how to take care of themselves, self-sufficiency. I got to college and felt really ill-equipped to solve some of my own problems and now I meet these Eagle Scouts, gay and straight, who were really served well." With some 90 hours of footage shot and 30 hours of archival material to work from, Shepard attempted to show how public attitudes have changed over the years—not to mention the legal battles—in Scout's Honor. He met with occasional doses of homophobia himself in the process ( "I had some threats—the sort of 'die faggot filmmaker' sort of stuff so I guess I can relate a little bit to some of the threats Steven has gotten" ) , yet he reports that spending time shooting the Cozzas inspired him most.
"Their enthusiasm was contagious," he says. "It was hard to get discouraged working on this project because their optimism was so high, which is not always the case with documentary. It takes 3-10 years to make one of these projects and there are a lot of obstacles, not the least of which is funding. So the fact the story was always alive and moving and fact their work was so inspiring to me made it much easier." Although Steven Cozza provides a young, pro-gay Scout's voice in the film, Shepard admits he was also hoping to involve an openly gay scout whose story he could juxtapose against the heterosexual Cozza's. And in fact, Shepard found one: a 14-year-old openly gay ( to family and close friends ) , Mormon Scout based in Salt Lake City. Unfortunately, although the boy and his family met Shepard, they ultimately decided to abstain from participation, fearing it could jeopardize the boy's position in the BSA ( "and there was not enough support in their community to have a high profile documentary about his story," Shepard adds ) . However, with its multi-generational cast and compelling stories, Shepard feels the finished film makes a strong argument and fulfilling work. If the BSA's policy doesn't change as a result of Scout's Honor or its participants' continuing efforts? Then we've probably still got a few more rungs to climb on the societal ladder, says Shepard.
"I think [ the policy is ] ridiculous but I also think it represents resistance in American society towards embracing gay people," Shepard notes. "Not just accepting, but embracing them in all institutions of American life. But I really think the film has the largest potential among young people around Steven's age who have inherited some pretty disaffected attitudes towards American institutions and political organizing and process. Steven's idealism is really infectious. I think a lot of gay people are disarmed by the notion he could be or is straight. It's not commonplace for a straight, hip young fellow to be carrying the banner for gay people. That's just not in our history. I think people have a hard time believing that could be real and yet from my perspective it's very real. What he's doing is definitely not in a vacuum. It's important for people of one group to understand and even go to bat for people of another group, and it's happening in this context of a lot of years of evolution of public attitude towards the experience of gay people."
