
New York and Stonewall made me the Gay Man I am So Proud to Be
I’d never seen the Stonewall Inn bar in real life until that day in 2006. I’d hear about it, of course. I’d seen the black and white photos from the riots and seen the exterior in countless movies. But there was something I will never forget about the day I walked in. Like all the great American monuments, I expected it to be bigger. But the dim light, the tight spaces, and the narrow stairs instantly transport you back to June 1969. There is a presence that surrounds you when you walk into Stonewall that reminds you that history happened here and that everyone who comes through its door is a part of it. Like now, just the act of being yourself was an act of resistance and activism. I think of the courage of those incredible people who were in the riots and the countless acts of advocacy since and wish I could hug them all and dance the night away upstairs at Stonewall.
Growing up in south Florida (the other NYC borough) was so valuable to helping me define who I am, especially once I started performing and being active in the theater. At a very young age, I was meeting all these incredible older gay men and lesbians who had lived the life in New York, who had lost partners and friends to AIDS, and who had been through the journey. They took me under their wing, and said, “Kid, here’s what I wish someone would have told me at your age -you have a freedom now that we never had as kids — don’t waste that.” I’m so fortunate to have had that. Experiences like this have led to my passion in working with LGBTQ youth. It is intertwined in every facet of my job today and is something that I pursue in my volunteer time I remember one older friend from those formative years, who we have since sadly lost to HIV and AIDS, telling me, “When you get to NYC and become a star, go sit on a stool at Stonewall for me.”
I did. And I go back to raise a glass and think about our community any chance I get-- especially when there is something to celebrate.
That’s exactly what happened in 2009 when my life and career radically shifted and took, as I call it, a big, queer, left turn. After years in the theatre and some small TV roles, I eventually got a screen test for a pilot at MTV. And when I was done there, a friend who was a producer said, “Hey, while you’re in the building, why don’t you come screen test for LOGO? You’re openly gay, and we’re doing a lot of really awesome queer content, and we need young, knowledgeable hosts for some of these programs.” I got the job. I went to Stonewall with my friends to celebrate. And my life has never been the same since.
As much as I loved exploring and living in cities like Chicago and Los Angeles, it was places like Birmingham, Alabama or South Dakota where I met people who would drive 50 or 100 miles for a sense of community, that really inspired me
At this point, I was really young and very open about my sexuality on TV. I was being asked by organizations like GLAAD, The Trevor Project, and HRC to come speak for them, fundraise, and do special projects. There was a lot of focus on engagement with youth and college students, which I absolutely fell in love with. That’s how I ended up where I am today: a Senior Vice President at the National LGBT Chamber of Commerce. I get to use my voice to help our community become more prosperous and visible in the American and global economy. Every single day I get to meet and fight for incredible people that prove that being out and being successful never need to be mutually exclusive again. They know their success is built on the shoulders of those who fought, and simply lived out loud, during the days of the Stonewall riots and since. And they, like me, feel a sense of duty and tremendous pride to succeed in their honor and memory.
When I was touring with shows, I would make a point of getting to know the local LGBTQ scene wherever we were performing. As much as I loved exploring and living in cities like Chicago and Los Angeles, it was places like Birmingham, Alabama or South Dakota where I met people who would drive 50 or 100 miles for a sense of community, that really inspired me. It was beautiful to witness this at a young age, and it made me realize how easy my personal coming out process was. It was getting out and hearing those stories that drove me toward advocacy and a desire to make it better for people in cities less progressive than where I grew up. And without fail, someone in one of those smaller cities would ask if I have ever been to the famous Stonewall in New York City. I loved getting to tell them all about it and what it means to our community, and to me.
Over the years, both in and out of New York, I got to know just how many incredible, passionate people there are out there willing to help. The key is listening to people who have a different experience than you. It will always reveal something amazing about yourself you didn’t know when you find that commonality, but also really open up your eyes to the variety of perspective and lives out there that are nothing like yours, and how lucky we are to get to know people like that.
Every day, I still feel like I’m as fulfilled as I was in the theater or on TV in the work I do serving the community, because it’s all about moving people with your story and getting them to share their own. It’s about getting them to take action to make their corner of the world a little better. It can be to volunteer, or give money, or march, or mentor a child — or whatever it is that speaks to you. So I could never be the advocate or lobbyist that I am today had I not had all those years performing, learning how to touch people’s hearts. And I could never have had all of those years performing if it weren’t for the generations before me who loved, feared, fought, and triumphed because of Stonewall.