USNA Out

I graduated from Cocoa Beach High School in Cocoa Beach, Florida, in 1988. My father was a WWII pilot, my mother was an artist and homemaker, and they were far from happy when I decided to turn down a college scholarship in order to enlist in the Navy to be a Russian language cryptologist (CTI). Although my best friend's father was a USNA grad who tried to mentor me into applying directly to USNA from high school, I was determined to enlist because I was caught up in the Cold War excitement and wouldn't turn down an potential opportunity to work at the US embassy in Moscow, which was my dream after reading a couple of Tom Clancy novels.

I had assumed - or hoped - that my lack of interest in women, and my interest in men, would go away over time. When I was asked "are you homosexual" by my Navy recruiter, although I answered "no" with a confident voice, I really wasn't sure and I certainly had nobody I could confide in. While going through language school from 1989 to 1991, my sexual orientation was weighing much more heavily on me as I saw countless sailors and soldiers discharged in the anti-gay witch hunts that permeated the language school. Our extremely high security clearances made blackmail an easy tool to eliminate somebody from competing with you for a highly coveted billet (i.e., an air crew billet out of Rota, Spain) because back then there were few if any ramifications for falsely accusing servicemembers for being gay. I saw straight sailors who were put on security hold for 6-12 months after being falsely accused, after which many of them lost their passion for service. For those were proven to be gay, they were discharged regardless of the fortune spent on their education and security clearances, and despite their linguistic skills. While this was happening, I was in constant fear of revealing my true self as I struggled with attraction to men. Like man others, I dated, had a serious girlfriend and even contemplated marrying one in order to protect myself. Despite all that, I enjoyed the Russian training, thrived in the linguistic field and achieved some success. And to reduce the threat of anyone falsely reporting me, I chose a duty station nobody wanted - Sinop, Turkey - which also was known to the be the hardest and would put me on the fast track to a Moscow assignment.

When the Berlin Wall came down in 1991, my career as a CTI virtually disappeared. Although I could have retrained for Arabic, given the onset of Desert Shield/Storm, I instead chose to go to the Naval Academy. I had applied, but I decided I'd decline in order to pursue the Russian CTI field. The change in the world stage caused me to accept the appointment to the USNA Class of 1996, after a year at NAPS.

My five years at NAPS and USNA were fraught with the same challenges, ups and downs, failures and successes as any USNA mid faced, with the added issue of sexuality. My second class year was the first time I actually told a male that I was attracted to him. Though he was straight and he did his best to be a good friend after that, I was still confused and fearful of being outed, so I retreated to dating women through the time I was at SWOS. After a particularly ugly breakup with a female Naval Officer I dated at SWOS, I decided I couldn't live the lie anymore. I decided to stop dating women, and I came out to my best friend, who was a year behind me and was a firstie. When he threatened to turn me in, I was shocked to the point of contemplating suicide, as the Navy was really all I knew as an adult, and I had no role models to lean on as successful gay adults. Thankfully, I confided in a couple of friends who were supportive. I decided just to put my personal life on hold until I got out of the Navy, if that were possible, and focus on my job as an officer.

When I reported to my first ship as the Precommissioning Anti-Submarine Warfare Officer for a new Aegis Destroyer, USS DECATUR (DDG 73), I happened to find out that one of the junior department heads was gay. He ended up being the kind of friend I needed, offering me advice on how to be happy and live life while serving to the best of my ability. He dragged me (almost literally) out to Rich's and other gay places in San Diego, and for the first time in my adult life I started feeling like I could be myself. At the same time, however, life as a first tour DIVO was extremely challenging. We built the destroyer in Bath, Maine; did sea trials off the coast of Maine in January and February despite terrible storms; sailed down to Puerto Rico for missile and gun quals; then transited through the Panama Canal to Portland, Maine for our commissioning. We then homeported in San Diego.

In San Diego in 1998, the year my father died of emphysema and I brought my mom (who herself had serious health issues) out from Florida to live with me, I unexpectedly met a young Asian-American college student who's been my partner for nearly 12 years. I feel proud to have worked hard and earned the respect of my peers, subordinates and leadership aboard my first ship, and I was able to bring my partner to numerous wardroom functions. Although I didn't advertise the fact that I was gay, and I introduced him as my "roommate," many on the ship knew the truth. My Captain even encouraged me to stay in the Navy and work towards command of a ship, despite the fact that he knew about my personal life. He rated me the #1 DIVO as well as the best underway OOD on the ship, and he often called upon me to tutor my peer officers in numerous areas, which was an honor.

By this point I'd realized that I couldn't live my life forever under DADT, and that future commands would not likely be as accepting as my first. At my second command, the aircraft carrier JOHN C STENNIS (CVN 74), I experienced a variety of professional and personal crises that took their toll on me. Among other pressures such as the highly controversial anthrax vaccine, entering a huge command where I once again felt like I was under scrutiny brought back the stress I felt earlier in my career. I could not reconcile working myself to the bone and dealing with extreme personal life complications while again having to lie about who I was, hide my partner from my coworkers, and come to work every day lying about who I spent time with over the weekend and field the incessant questions about who I'm dating, why I'm not married, etc. When I reported to my chain of command that I was gay, they processed me out under DADT. My immediate superiors were extremely supportive and positive, and they gave me such high recommendations that I was processed out with an Honorable discharge and I wasn't financially penalized for only completely four of the five years of service. Even though I left the carrier before deployment, they credited me with turning around a problematic engineering division of 130+ sailors that helped them to deploy successfully.

I pray that DADT goes away and that all servicemembers, regardless of sexual orientation, can serve with honor and without fear of persecution. I'm sorry that this didn't happen while I was on active duty. Although I will always be sad for leaving the Navy the way I felt forced to leave, I have been working for the U.S. Navy as a consultant, in a position where I interact with many high ranking officers and Navy civilian gov't employees at the Washington Navy Yard. I am happy to be contributing to the Navy mission, and I am also happy to note that I've yet to interact with an officer or civilian in my department who has any problem with gays serving in the military. From what I see and hear on a daily basis, DADT is going away someday soon.

I feel honored and proud to be able to support any USNA grad or midshipman who is struggling in this difficult situation. Please feel free to contact me here at USNA Out.