We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

Today marks the anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence 235 years ago. Thomas Jefferson, in his great wisdom, penned the words which have become the cornerstone upon which this great nation has been built. As a young boy learning about the Founding Fathers and the American Revolution in elementary school, I truly believed that I lived in a free country, where a boy or girl could grow up to become whatever he or she chose. I believed that I would live in a country where my inalienable rights would not only be protected, but would also be held as a sacred gift granted to me by my Creator. I imagined a life that would be rich and fulfilling, a true pursuit of happiness.

As a young boy, I was aware that I was different than the other boys in my school. Although I knew nothing about sexual orientation, I did know that I didn't share the same interest in rough and tumble games that the other boys played. I wasn't the least bit athletic and preferred music and art classes to recess and PE. As I grew into adolescence, these differences became more defined and along with them came a profound awareness of same-sex attraction and the word "gay." Like many other young gay men, I quickly retreated into the closet, and I lived there until I turned 31. Living and working in western South Dakota presented a multitude of challenges to my ability and willingness to embrace my sexual orientation as anything but a curse. I could not fathom living an openly gay life, and although I ached inside for an opportunity to live my life with honesty and authenticity, doing so would require overcoming insurmountable obstacles.

Now, 11  years later, I live in San Francisco with my life-partner, Freddie, and I am happy. Freddie and I were legally married in San Francisco on September 12, 2008, after the California Supreme Court lifted the ban on same-sex marriage on May 15, 2008. In November of 2008, opponents of Marriage Equality successfully passed Proposition 8, a law which once again effectively stripped gay men and women of their inalienable right to pursue happiness. Because Freddie and I were married during the time when same-sex marriage was legal, the courts declared that our marriage would remain intact.

Today as Americans across the nation gather to celebrate independence and freedom, I find myself wondering how my own observance of this day can be little more than a lie. Don't get me wrong, I love being an American. I AM a fan of democracy. I find myself getting weepy when I hear our National Anthem. And, I will never forget the sight of our beautiful flag draped over the casket of my father and the pride he felt in serving his country. But, as a gay man living in the United States, I cannot say that I feel completely free or that I have equal rights.

LGBT Americans have been fighting their own revolution for centuries. Some of the battles have been very public, and others have been quite private. We fight our way out of the closet and into the light. Some have to fight for dignity and respect within their own families. Others have fought to be able to work and live in the communities of their choosing. And, the fight for Marriage Equality continues across this country.

When Freddie and I decided to get married, I'm not sure I was aware that we were doing anything revolutionary. Yet, in speaking our vows at San Francisco's City Hall, we enlisted in the army of all of those brave men and women who have stood up to the hatred and bigotry of those who have attempted to rob us of our human dignity.

As I sit here and reflect on my life on this beautiful Fourth of July in San Francisco, I wonder how I, as a gay American, should feel about this day. Are we truly free when LGBT citizens can still be fired in some states for being gay? Are we truly free when corporations can still choose whether or not they will extend medical benefits to same-sex couples? Are we free when LGBT couples who have built a life together are kept from truly inheriting the estates of a deceased partner? Are we free when teachers are not allowed to speak about homosexuality in the classroom? Are we free when LGBT parents are not allowed to share legal custody of a child they have raised together? Are we free when countless LGBT Americans have to fight to live our lives openly and without shame in a country that we continue to support with our tax dollars and the invaluable contributions we make to society?

I was 7 years old in 1976  when America celebrated her Bicentennial. I still remember that Fourth of July celebration and sitting around the table with my family as my father showed me the special quarter that had been issued to commemorate the event. It saddens me greatly to realize that my childhood awe and reverence for this country and what it represents has become tarnished by disillusionment.

in my dream

everyone said i was dying

but i would not go to death

all i remember were the colors

and the light in my eyes

that refused to dim

refused to be swept away

in the current

of their voices 

subtle, yet so demanding

in my dream

everyone said i was dying

but i awoke to find

i was giving birth

to my self

I am an openly gay man... And, I am a Catholic. To many people, the two worlds...the two "lifestyles," if you will, should be mutually exclusive. But, in my heart, they are not. I did not stop believing in God the day I "came out of the closet." And, the Church I grew up in and learned to love as a young man continues to call to me with Her Sacraments and Mysteries. As much as I have struggled with my identity as a Catholic--especially in the face of such discrimination as Proposition 8, I have continued to remind myself that the foundation of the Church is built on the promises of Christ. I have been able to come to terms with the fact that the hierarchy of the Church is comprised of men who are imperfect (despite the claim that the Pope is infallible). While there is much that I would change about the Church and much that seems downright wrong to me--like the fact that women cannot be ordained priests, I continue to love the ritual of the Church. And, I have found that being a Catholic feeds a part of my soul and enriches my belief in Christ in a way that is important to me. It is a connection to my roots and my family. So, I consider myself a very progressive and liberal Catholic--but a Catholic nonetheless.

Today, as I was watching the local news in San Francisco with my partner, we noticed a headline traveling across the bottom of the screen on the "ticker." It read..."Denver Catholic school boots the children of gay parents." It seems that a preschool student at Sacred Heart of Jesus school in Boulder, Colorado was refused re-enrollment in the school because his/her parents are lesbians.

My partner, Freddie, is a convert to Catholicism--or should I call him my husband since we were married in September 2008, before the passage of Prop 8. Freddie joined the Church in the 80's as a gay man living in Los Angeles. He was introduced to the Church by some very pastoral priests who had been instrumental in helping the gay community deal with the AIDS epidemic. I am a "cradle Catholic" and have recently had to defend my continued love of the Church to Freddie who has become completely fed-up with the Church's stand on issues like same-sex marriage. It was Freddie who pointed out the headline at the bottom of the screen, doing so with his typical distain for the bigotry of the Church. For me, the news re-opened an old wound.

This story hits way too close to home for me. Archbishop Charles Chaput of Denver and Richard Thompson, Superintendent of the Catholic Schools in Denver are two people I know quite well. They both served the Rapid City–West River Diocese in South Dakota. Richard Thompson hired me to be the music teacher of the Catholic schools in Rapid City in 1994. It was a job I loved. I was an excellent teacher. I was respected by my students and colleagues. And, I even got letters from both Mr. Thompson and Bishop Charles (as we called him) commending me on my wonderful Christmas programs and the role model I was to the students. I have wonderfully fond memories of being a part of the Catholic schools and sharing my faith with my students. I had expected to teach at Seton school forever...maybe even retire from there.


But…a parent wrote an anonymous letter to the superintendent questioning my sexual orientation. I was in the midst of a divorce, and while I knew I was gay, I was struggling with what I felt was a call to holiness. I didn't think living my life openly as a gay man was an option for me. I had explored my sexuality during that time, and I was seen at an adult bookstore that was frequented by gay men. I was not doing anything that was illegal (I was nearly 30 at the time)...or truly immoral really (I was basically single--not cheating on my wife). Yet, this anonymous letter implied that because I might be gay and had been seen at this adult bookstore (by someone who was clearly at the bookstore as well), I must be a pedophile. The letter further demanded that I be immediately removed from my teaching post or the writer would go to the bishop.

I remember sitting in Dick Thompson's office and being handed the letter to read. I remember coming clean about being at the bookstore and the struggles and confusion I was experiencing. And, I remember that Mr. Thompson attempted to be compassionate as he told me that the school board would have to meet to decide my fate. I was not given the opportunity to defend myself before the school board. Instead, I was asked to resign ultimately because the powers that be were afraid of what might happen if the anonymous letter writer would go to the bishop.  The elementary school principal sat in the office and wept as I was being told that I  was basically unfit to teach the students I loved. I remember her saying, "Jerome, you're one of our best teachers. I love you and this breaks my heart." I wasn't allowed to say goodbye to my students or the staff of the school who were like a family to me. They were told nothing--just that I was resigning.

I left my teaching post at St. Elizabeth Seton School in 2000. Later, Richard Thompson "left" his position as superintendent and moved to Denver to work with the newly ordained Archbishop Charles. The two are now the leaders of the Catholic school system that has refused to re-enroll a preschooler because his/her parents are lesbians. The story is all too familiar...especially because the players are the same. They are standing behind some policy that the parents of their students are expected to abide by the policies of the school and the Church. (Many bloggers and activists have posed the obvious questions of divorce and birth control). To me, it just seems like another Church-sanctioned witch hunt.

I am now an openly gay man living in San Francisco…and I’m also a practicing Catholic who loves the Church. I have found a lot of beauty and grace in the Sacraments. Luckily, I’m able to worship with the LGBT community in San Francisco at a wonderful parish. Most Holy Redeemer Church--SF. I have worked really hard to move on from this experience. I sometimes find myself deeply troubled by the fact that much of the good work I did with the students seems to have been negated in the eyes of some because I'm gay. Then, I remember that I do not need anyone's approval. I also remind myself of the AWESOME contributions that gay men and women have made to the Church.

The Sistine Chapel was painted by Michelangelo, the same man who carved the breathtaking Pieta. Who would question Michelangelo's faith and relationship with God after gazing upon the image of Mary holding her crucified Son? Michelangelo was GAY!!!  Many of the songs we sing at Mass each Sunday were written by gay men and women. In fact, if you attend a convention of the National Pastoral Musicians, you'll most likely notice that there are a lot of gay men and women working as Church musicians.

I can understand that many people think that gay Catholics, like me, should abandon our faith. I've heard the argument that it's ludicrous to want to be a part of a group that discriminates so openly against who you are.  But, I think we need to stand up and be noticed. I refuse to let the ignorance of some keep me from worshipping my God in whatever way I choose. I believe in Christ and God…not the hierarchy of the fallible Church. I will not let the ignorance of some keep me from my faith. I'm fighting back. These people who practice bigotry in the name of Christ must be stopped! I am a Gay man because God created me that way...and I am a Catholic by my baptism and my belief in the Church. AMEN!!!

This was one of the highlights of our trip to Paris. I had read a fabulous book by Tracy Chevalier called The Lady and the Unicorn which tells the story (fictitious of course) of these beautiful tapestries. The tapestries are breathtaking!

When I was in Paris, I made a special point of finding the replica of the Statue of Liberty. It stands on the banks of the Seine facing toward the original statue in New York. I shot this photo in Paris. This image was created using the Pop Art app on my iPhone.

It's been a few weeks since I've returned to San Francisco after a lovely trip to Europe. Weeks have passed since that first moment when I saw Paris and felt her grace, her energy, her seductive way. I miss her.

Dreaming of Amsterdam...