In the Bonds: My Experiences as a Gay “Frat Boy”

The other day a friend who’s been house hunting sent me the internet listing for a house in Fairfax along with the message that this particular home would be perfect for me. I was confused at first, since I’m not exactly in the market for a house in Virginia. She then instructed me to look at the living room and asked if it reminded me of something. The picture of that room showed three walls, each painted a different color. I recognized the color scheme immediately as the official colors of the fraternity I was extremely active in when I was in college, and, as a light bulb went off in my head, I replied: “Yeah, and then I could live in a frat house for the rest of my life.”

This got me thinking about when I moved to DC a couple of years ago straight out of college and I would introduce some of my fellow gay friends, whom I now refer to as “college friends” or “college roommates” (which is still accurate), as my “fraternity brothers” out of habit at gay events. This never failed to produce confused looks and awkward questions about my sexuality and the nature of the organization. It seems that when many people put “gay” and “fraternity” in the same sentence it most often conjures up the image of a gay porn archetype or a real-life closet-case overcompensating with hyper-masculinity, arrogance or general douchebaggery.

Despite the tendency to see them as mutually-exclusive identities and experiences, having a few years out of college and in living in DC under my belt, I am coming to recognize that being gay positively influenced my fraternity experience, and vice versa. And, if you really think about it, being a member of the DC gay community isn’t totally unlike being in a fraternity at all.

I came into college 100% sure that rushing a fraternity was the last thing I ever wanted to do. Every member of my immediate family except for one had “gone Greek” in college, but “fratty” was one adjective which has never been used to describe me. When I arrived on campus, however, I saw how vital Greek life was the social scene on campus and how much fun my friends who rushed were having, so I decided to keep an open mind and check it out. Unfortunately, I chose to rush the most stereotypical of fraternities my first year, meeting with utter rejection (which I thank my lucky stars for everyday now, but it stung at the time).

Sophomore year, however, I found the perfect fit. It was an organization which many of my friends had already joined and it was unique in many respects: there was no hazing; it was one of the most culturally and racially diverse organizations I knew of on campus; they helped you out financially if you couldn’t make dues. And there were openly gay members. While I hadn’t even fully acknowledged my sexuality at that point, let alone told anyone else about it, it seemed like a good sign – these guys were clearly more interested in the quality of man than in whether or not he met some sort of image.

In other ways, however, it was very much a traditional social fraternity. I joined an international organization and paid dues; there was pledging, rituals and philanthropies; we threw parties and overindulged in adult beverages with alarming regularity; we did things and took pictures which would ensure that we would never be able to run for public office.

By the time Junior year rolled around our numbers had swelled to around 50, with at least 10-15 of those being openly gay. While a fraternity may seem like a terrible place to embrace and make known one’s sexuality, my experience was quite the opposite. Having become so close to so many amazing gay men, it was easy to come out to them first and know that others were going through the same thing as me. Also, having a built in support group of gay and straight men whom I knew were unlikely to think less of me after I came out was incredibly reassuring. It was kind of like the idea behind the “Gay? Fine By Me” campaign, but without the fancy t-shirts.

Also, the involvement in such an organization affected others in an interesting way. It has long been argued online that one of the best ways to promote tolerance and acceptance of homosexuals would be for all of the LGBT people in one’s life to be magically revealed as such, thereby forcing people to see how many of the people they love and respect are in fact queer. Also, greater interaction between gays and straights is generally a good thing in my book. One of the young men I pledged with I knew from freshman year as being a mildly conservative Republican who initially joined the ROTC fraternity. We became really good friends, and, after many of my fraternity brothers who had self-identified as straight when they joined had come out, he now regularly joins me and our shared friends at gay bars and has reevaluated certain political views he once held.

None of this is to say that my experience is the common – I know I got lucky. My school’s Greek System was fairly laid back and open-minded, especially compared so many school in areas such as the Deep South. Also, even on our fairly liberal campus, there were fraternities which did tend to keep their gay members in the closet, so I know my fellow gay frat brothers and I were extremely fortunate. I’m not arguing that fraternities and sororities are ideal for every gay man or lesbian, but that it is an experience which does exist, one which is often overlooked. It also makes it particularly interesting to see a show like ABC Family’s (of all channels) Greek features surprisingly realistic openly gay fraternity members. The times, they are a-changin’, perhaps.

Perhaps the most interesting realization I had while thinking about this subject was that, while I may have left college behind, the gay community in DC isn’t totally unlike being part of a fraternity, or an entire Greek Community, even. Sometimes it feels like we have our own secret handshake, rituals and distinctive clothing. The amount of money I spend at gay bars and events could certainly draw the same unfounded accusations of “paying for friends” as I heard every time fraternity dues came, well, due. Most importantly, while I never felt “fratty” enough for some of the organizations I investigated in college, there have been many times in the last couple of years when I have felt “not gay enough” for gay life in DC.

The LGBT community in DC is large and thriving, but its strength can also be intimidating to outsiders, whether they are straight people (like some of my friends who have felt somewhat overwhelmed when accompanying me to certain events/venues) or other gay and lesbian individuals who feel they fall outside of the “mainstream” of queer culture. I know that I, at least, felt this way when I first arrived here, and immediately went about looking for a group or scene to become a part of. Honestly, it felt a lot like being unaffiliated as undergrad and looking for the right place for me within the often intimidating Greek community.

And while there are divisions within our community, just like in Greek Life, there’s also the tendency to come together in a common interest and against a shared threat – like I’ve seen us do in the wake of Proposition 8, for example. And just as being in a fraternity often led to frustration and unnecessary life complications, at the end of the day, I was always happier to have it in my life despite any unpleasantness that may have come with it. This is the way I feel with the DC LGBT community – that, like the best of families, our individual members may fight sometimes, but in the end we’re all related and we can rely on each other.

Luckily the more I’ve explored, the more I’ve found people who feel or have felt this way (many of whom, I suspect, read and write for this blog). But I think that ultimately working to create a community which makes everyone feel welcome is the direction we should all be heading toward. Because, while it was it was fun at the time, I’m not looking to participate in “Rush” ever again.