The personal remains political

Change is all around us, but we don't need to be involved at an international, or national level in order to make change. It is important to remember that the personal is political, and so each of us has the power to change our environment. Doing so involves being our authentic selves – not hiding important parts of our lives, like leading a double life, or hiding behind a mask. Instead, being in the present with those important authenticities. People recognize authenticity, and it inspires trust. And for the person being authentic, it may involve risk.

As an example, I “came out” as a gay man, the first week I was at Cornell University for my undergraduate studies. I had a friend who encouraged me, reminding me that my past did not follow me, and that this was a chance to embrace a fuller sense of my self.

As soon as I openly discussed my sexuality, I made myself into a target for derision and worse. It was the mid-80s, Reagan was president, and the arrival of AIDS made people even more irrational concerning gay men. Every single day, people leered at me and people in cars driving by would shout epithets. Every day. The way I walked? The clothes I wore? The reputation I quickly received, given that there were less than 10 out gay men on a campus with 15,000 students? One late night, I was returning from a friend's place in college town – walking back to my dorm on north campus. I heard a round of epithets, and turned around to see my Biology 101 lab partner leading the sound off. As was my custom, I just ignored them and continued, entering the main quad.

But something different happened – they began following me. I noticed they were all carrying beer bottles, and they started smashing off the bottoms of the bottles. The first bottle tossed, was a foot perhaps from my head. I realized I was serious trouble. By the time the second bottle narrowly missed me, I was running toward the basement of building which housed a popular cafe, praying that it would be unlocked, as they came running at me. I found the door unlocked, and I entered into total darkness. I could feel my way around to a corner – a good hiding place, and I lay down curled up, trying to suppress my panting from the desperate dash. In a very short time, the little crowd of 6-8 drunk, homophobic young men, poured into the cafe, smashing into furniture in the dark. Shouting at me. But there was no way they could find me in the dark. They headed up stairs, where there were some lights on. I stayed where I was, in the position I started in, for some time, before I finally got the nerve to get up, feel my way to the door, and start running again. I did not stop running until I was inside my locked room/inside my locked dormitory. This wasn't an everyday occurrence, but it wasn't rare either.

After graduation, I moved to New York City, where I was allowed to be my authentic self with much less fear and much greater enjoyment. NYC bestows on all its residents, the gift of anonymity, which turns out to be a real license for personal expression. I was free to be who and what I was – and nobody objected. After 4 years of being way to easily identified, I slipped into NYC's anonymity and truly enjoyed not being noticed or singled out. It was such a gift that no one noticed me, took note of me. It was the first time I felt real freedom to just be myself.

And it was during my early months in NYC, that I learned in practice, that the personal really is political. Two times, in restaurants, a young man would come up to me and say something like, “You're Mark Biernbaum, right? I watched you all the time at Cornell, but I didn't have the guts to come out, but I am out now. You were like a hero to me.” I had never in my life considered the fact that people were watching how I carried myself. That thought had never occurred to me. Becoming aware that I could be a “hero” for just being my brave-naive-crazy-and smart enough authentic self, really awakened and amazed me. It made me conscious of the fact that how I lived "myself "– was not occurring in a static, unchanging environment, but actually, could potentially impact others. I was no longer just "myself" for my own benefit. Authenticity became a responsibility, and I am still living it.