René Puliatti USNA '85
Homepages:
http://www.pypconsultants.com/
http://www.linkedin.com/in/renepuliatti
http://www.facebook.com/rene.puliatti
At a birthday party with classmates.
René, Joe, Eric & Jim. Pensacola, 1986
I grew up in upstate New York and in central Pennsylvania, two relatively conservative settings. At the Milton Hershey School in central PA, I was definitely an overachiever – Glee Club President, Student Body President, Class Treasurer, and yes, even Drum Major! I wasn’t sure then if I were gay or if it was just a phase, but I knew it was a label to be avoided. When considering colleges, I applied to the Naval Academy and Cornell University, among others. I chose the Naval Academy because I wanted to serve my country, to make a difference and to be challenged. I did and I was – in more ways than I could have ever imagined.
The Naval Academy was an amazing experience. I did well academically (Economics with German, traveling to Germany multiple times), sang with the Glee Club all four years (traveling nearly every other month), and did the required ProDev (barely). Still, to succeed there I had to compartmentalize my life, focus on my training and schoolwork, and repress any romantic/sexual feelings. Luckily, I was raised a good Catholic, and besides, there wasn't much idle time for that kind of trouble.
René in Munich, 1985
The academics were challenging and exhilarating. Although Economics is a social science major, I chose to take Cables instead of Wires, because I wanted to learn the real thing – and because I was told I couldn’t do it. In terms of impact, The most profound and lasting effect on me came from the Academy's leadership training. One of the most memorable lessons I learned (from Michael Pease, Class of ‘84) was the importance of critically reviewing the day’s news and not simply repeating the filtered facts or opinions as printed by the press. Another lesson was to always act with integrity, regardless of the immediate consequences, because it would always be worth it in the long run. Among company and classmates, I also found a strong camaraderie, although I always remembered to maintain a safe distance.
I selected the Naval Flight Officer (NFO) track, completed my basic and advanced flight/nav training, and was eventually stationed at NAS Agana, Guam, as an airborne tactical evaluator for squadron VQ-1. Unfortunately, I never did find that "circle of friends" during my entire time in the Navy, and never felt secure enough to share much with my colleagues. I thought I could separate my feelings from my professional life indefinitely and still be happy, but that bargain became too costly on Guam. To cope with an increasingly isolated and depressed life, I examined it very closely and very critically. Along with my own internal compass, those lessons from the Academy helped me to realize (a) it was fundamentally wrong for both me and the Navy that I should lie about who I am; and (b) that I was worth more than this half-life in the closet which I had been living.
René on Guam, 1989
In early 1990, I chose to come out of the closet in writing to my commanding officer. He told me that I had tied his hands and that he had to follow the rules. I replied that I had rules to follow, too. Looking back I was perhaps naïve and lucky, but the command was very professional and supportive of me – except for the fact that it was kicking me out. The command even wrote me a very positive letter of recommendation for graduate school.
After leaving the Navy, I took some time to get back in touch with my family and figure out what to do next with my life. I decided to continue to serve my country, but in a different way. I went to law school at Rutgers University – Newark. There I experienced a very different slice of American life, and learned a markedly different version of our history. Applying my Academy lessons again and building on these new experiences, I started off on a new career path of non-profit (often volunteer) work, which I have pursued continuously for the past twenty years, except for a very brief and unsettling excursion into corporate law. In many ways this work is similar to the Navy (e.g. not very lucrative, usually overwhelming, but always personally and socially meaningful), and I have found it to be a good fit for me. Currently, I am administering a small non-profit in San Francisco, as well as providing independent consulting services for small businesses and individuals, through PyP Consultants, the business my partner and I founded.
Beyond my formal work, I find it important to serve the community. I have been an officer within LGBT veterans service organizations in New York (Gay Veterans Association aka GLB Veterans of Greater New York) and California (Alexander Hamilton Post 448 of the American Legion), and have worked with many other groups, including SLDN, SAGALA, USNA Out and American Veterans for Equal Rights (AVER). While changing discriminatory laws is very important, I feel it is still only part of the solution. I have protested in the streets of New York and DC and San Francisco for change. I also have sung with the NYC Gay Men's Chorus and currently sing with the SF Gay Men's Chorus and Colla Voce, community groups who use another angle - song - to create change and to have some fun along the way. The bottom line is that we need to change societal attitudes about what it means to be gay or lesbian, and what it means to be a man or a woman. Such change occurs best when we interact with others on a personal level, one-on-one and on as many different levels as possible.
René onstation
in the EP-3, 1989
My motivations for ending DADT and changing these attitudes are both professional and personal. By far, the most compelling reason for me is that the policy undermines the integrity of the military by making concealment of the truth a requirement for LGBT men and women to serve. There are other important reasons, but this one is fundamental. The DADT policy also diminishes our military’s effectiveness (and wastes resources) by discharging LGBT personnel with valuable skills and experiences, and it undermines morale and unit cohesion by setting one group apart for unfair and unequal treatment. Nor is the inherent unfairness of this policy a trivial matter. LGBT military men and women are serving our country honorably -- many shedding blood and dying for it -- as their predecessors have done since before the United States was born. The unfairness of this policy is even more shameful when you consider the families of these LGBT servicemembers, who receive no support from the military or the country that loudly professes to support the troops.
René and Carlos
in San Francisco, 2009
My motivations are also quite personal. The closet is a profoundly unhealthy place and military closet is a particularly insidious one. It has taken me a great deal of time and energy to understand – and change – the internalized attitudes/behaviors which have repeatedly sabotaged my own success and happiness. Simply coming out did not end the pervasive homophobia within the culture nor my internalization of it, but it was an essential first step. If we can eliminate the closet, or at least help others through the process of coming out, we will ease a lot of pain and senseless waste.
For me, it has been a slow and often convoluted process. Thankfully, when I was ready, friends, family and classmates were there for me, and I have begun reconnecting with many of them and repairing much of the damage done. I have also found that -- along with the lessons I learned at the Naval Academy -- the integrity and camaraderie of my fellow alumni still hold true; these two constants are welcome blessings. Recently and most significantly, I have found my Carlos, who challenges me and loves me in the same breath and without reservation. We have only been together a couple of years, but his love has already changed my life. He gives me strength and helps me balance the personal with the communal, and like my naval experiences, reminds me to look beyond my individual needs to include those of our family, our community, our world.
The closet hurts both the military and the individual. Ending DADT and changing the way the military and society sees LGBT men and women -- and how we see ourselves -- will change our military and our society for the better. It will mean fewer suicides, hate crimes, wasted careers and damaged lives, as well as a more effective military, a more just society and happier individual lives.
I am very grateful to family, friends and organizations like USNA Out, who have been there for me. Among other things, they have helped me understand that I am not alone, and that life is a journey best shared – in good times and bad.
If you should need a helping hand, please reach out. Please feel free to contact René here at USNA Out.