I Am Sorry

October 20, 2020

I am a flashpoint. I know this. My history touches tender nerves for a lot of people for very diverse reasons. So, no matter what I say, there are people who won’t like it. Nevertheless, I need to publicly express something I felt this morning.

Driving home from the gym this morning, P!nk’s “What About Us” came on Spotify. Here are the lyrics that wrenched my guts:

“What about us?

What about all the times you said you had the answers?

What about us? What about all the broken happy ever afters?

What about us? What about all the plans that ended in disaster?

What about love? What about trust? What about us?

“We are problems that want to be solved.

We are children that need to be loved.

We were willing; we came when you called.

But man you fooled us.

Enough is enough!”

This wasn’t the first time I’ve heard these lyrics and been aggrieved by them. But today they landed on a more disturbed awareness within me, caused by a recent interaction with the leader of an LGBTQ support organization. I had volunteered to facilitate a support group for people in this organization who’ve experienced negative effects from conversion therapy and/or religious homophobia.

The organization declined my offer. In his response to me, the leader explained that his organization is “still a refuge for hundreds of men … who were harmed by the practices of Evergreen, the materials [I] authored, and the non-evidence based practices [I] advanced.”

“Hundreds of men.”

So it was on top of that disconcertion that P!nk’s questions landed:

“What about all the times you said you had the answers?

What about all the broken happy ever afters?

What about all the plans that ended in disaster?

What about love?

What about trust?

What about us?”

What would you do if you were told that your well-intentioned life’s efforts had harmed “hundreds of men”? Imagine how that would feel. I could console myself with the sincere statements of many former clients and “Journey into Manhood” participants who say I blessed—or even saved—their lives. But for every person I helped, it appears there are an unknown number whom I harmed. Unintentionally. Perhaps indirectly. But nevertheless, my actions hurt them.

I began to weep in the car. Larger grief welled up after my roommate left for work and I was alone. Those questions rang in my ears as did P!nk’s stinging indictment, “But man you fooled us. Enough is enough!”

I know I’m not the sole cause of pain for those “hundreds of men.” I know religion and conservative culture are far greater culprits than I. But that doesn’t make me feel any less sorrow and responsibility for my part in the systemic degradation of LGBTQ people’s lives. And for my part in that system, I am so sorry.