Many years ago, I saw some words scrawled on the marble floor at the entrance of a middle school in upstate New York. For some reason, I remembered those words and thought about them frequently, mostly at times when I was feeling depressed or discouraged. I didn’t look up the author of those words until quite some time later, but when I did, I discovered they were written by Edwin Markham (1852–1940). These words are as follows:
He drew a circle that shut me out –
Heretic, a rebel, a thing to flout.
But Love and I had the wit to win:
We drew a circle that took him in!
When I first read those words, I was confused about who or what I was. I was coming to terms with the fact I was gay and hadn’t really accepted or even liked who I was. I had friends, but I felt alone. I felt outside looking in at something I didn’t know much about. I went to gay bars but always felt alone and out of place. I had few, if any, gay friends, and I found it extremely difficult to make any gay friends. I didn’t think I was that different from other gay people. Maybe I wasn’t that young or that good-looking, but I thought I had a good and accepting heart. I went to gay parades and other gay events, but in the end, I remained alone. I thought something was wrong with me. I was outside the “gay circle” and maybe yearning to get in.
Most of my friends were straight and predominantly work colleagues or neighbors at that time. Very few of these friends knew I was gay, but it didn’t make any difference to those few people. They even encouraged me to try harder to make gay friends. When I socialized, I socialized with these straight friends. Much of the time when I was with them, I secretly felt alone. When I went out alone to have a few drinks I usually went to straight bars and felt completely comfortable there. I don’t think I was ever harassed or bullied because I was gay, maybe because no one suspected it. I was, however, attacked and beaten quite severely twice, leaving a gay bar. Nothing ever came of these incidents, as the police didn’t follow up and seemed disinterested. “Just another fag getting beat up,” I guess. I never really dwelt on these two attacks and I didn’t let them affect me one way or the other. Even though the majority of my friends and acquaintances were straight, I still felt outside of that circle, but far from the gay circle of people who supposedly were more like me.
I never thought that I “had” to identify myself as being gay, as so many gay people I had met insisted upon doing. I met some gay guys who would only patronize a restaurant or clothing store if it was gay! These same people thought it was crazy that I went to straight bars and hung around straight people. Gay people I met weren’t the only ones who questioned my “authenticity” as a gay person. Even my straight friends noted that I didn’t fit their stereotypes of a gay man. Particularly at work, my colleagues would jokingly comment that my office and desk were not neat enough or that my sense of style was not what they imagined it should be. I agree that I am not a neat freak and dress in what makes me comfortable, not to follow a particular style or fit a certain stereotype. So, I guess I was still outside of the circle.
As I became older, I finally became myself. I accepted myself and forgot about fitting into a particular circle. If I felt alone, so what? I felt comfortable being with myself. I gave up classifying my friends as straight or gay. I chose my friends based on what kind of human beings they were, how much we had in common, and how much fun we had together. Hell, I even have Republican friends. Subsequently, I met the right man with similar feelings and experiences, and we were married. I’m happy now, no longer lonely, and I don’t see circles anymore.
I still think about that poem by Edwin Markham and wonder what he meant by those words. I think about children who are bullied and wonder if they felt the way I did, about being shut out and even made fun of. Then I think of these same children, having the strength and love to draw a circle to include their tormentors. Then, I realized that doing that would not work in today’s world. It may even make things worse. I can’t say that I was bullied, but I did feel that I was different, and trying to draw that inclusive circle didn’t work for me. If only it were that easy!
