One Foot In, One Foot Out: The Continued Struggle with Coming Out in a Hyper-Masculine U.S. Military

By Marin Nikolov Ph.D.

One Foot In, One Foot Out is a testament to the ongoing struggles that lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender U.S. military service members continue to face while serving in today's modern military. Many service members who identify as LGBT are still discriminated against and or harassed because they are out of the closet, are suspected of being gay or are involved with someone of the same sex. Dr. Nikolov shares his experience with the Don't Ask, Don't Tell policy and the implications it had on the more than the 16,000 service members who were removed from the service solely because they were gay and makes recommendations to those contemplating coming out or who have one foot in and one foot out of the closet. He also provides advice to military leaders who seek to improve their command climate to be more inclusive and diverse and welcomes those without regard to their sexual orientation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Aug 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781098381141

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One Foot In, One Foot Out

© 2021 Marin Nikolov, Ph.D.

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the expressed written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

ISBN 978-1-09838-113-4

eBook ISBN 978-1-09838-114-1

Contents

Dedication

Preface

Acknowledgments

The Thing to Do

Enlisting

Basic Training

Private James

Advanced Individual Training

Private Small

First Duty Station

Drill Sergeant Unit

Pushing Boots

Repeal Brief

The Struggle

First Sergeant Gaithers

Specialist Arnold

Sergeant First Class Ryan

Captain Waynes

Captain Sandy Kayov, U.S. Marine Corps

Michael

Tasha and Samantha

Colonel Matthews, Chaplain

One Foot In

One Foot Out

Sexual Assault of Gay Service Members

Private Mendez

How to Respond to Anti-LGBT Harassment in Today’s U.S. Military

Where Do You Stand?

Dedication

I dedicate this book to the many who served faithfully and loyally in the U.S. Armed Forces during Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell and other anti-gay policies, and albeit but for their open or discovered love of someone of the same sex would have been able to continue to serve in the military,

Who stood up for what’s right and for whom they loved amidst the harsh implications of anti-homosexual policies in the U.S.,

And for those who continue to struggle with coming out.

Preface

I remember sitting in my tenth-grade Chemistry class in high school in 2001 when the high-school principal announced over the intercom that there had been a plane accident in New York City and that we would observe a moment of silence. No sooner did the moment of silence finish than my teacher, Mrs. Ellis, turned on the TV to show the dramatic footage of a plane (American Airlines Flight 11) crashing into the North Tower of the World Trade Center in lower Manhattan. Almost 20 minutes went by, and another plane (United Airlines Flight 175) flew into the South Tower. Students and teachers remained horrified and quiet. Former President Bush was sitting in a classroom in Sarasota, Florida, when his advisors informed him of a small plane crash into the North Tower, unaware of the enormity of what transpired.

The attack on the homeland and the invasion of Afghanistan in 2001, and then Iraq in 2003, led to a U.S. military surge in recruitment and retention, with the offering of hefty sign-on bonuses to certain military occupation specialties. With rapidly deployable forces needed, my interest and enthrallment in the military and its power grew. I knew then that I had a calling to serve my country.

With the Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell (DADT) policy (1993–2011), I felt comfortable enlisting in the Army. I felt that because I wasn’t flamboyant, my ability to camouflage my sexual orientation would keep me safe and undiscovered. The policy would permit me to serve my country and fight her wars to my fullest potential while making life-long relationships with fellow soldiers and leaders. It would allow me to thrive within her ranks without fear of being beleaguered for my closeted gay status. The policy, however, had the opposite effect on many who were out, found to be gay, or outed. DADT required that those who identified themselves as gay, lesbian, or bisexual (GLB) closet their lifestyle. The policy proved to be detrimental to those it sought to protect, increasing suicides in the military and causing destruction of relationships with loved ones and fellow soldiers.

In my 2017 study, I focused on some drill sergeants standing by when witnessing sexual harassment and sexual assault of GLB recruits during the DADT policy era. Many who were closeted but found to be gay were outed. Those serving as openly gay to some were outed out to others and then removed from the service. Those caught performing same-sex acts were also removed. All were removed solely because of the witch-hunt policy that barred the open or discovered gay service of more than 16,000 GLB service men and women. I get heated over the conservative, religious, right-wing, red-tape pushers who thought, and some who still think, that GLB service members are a threat to security and unit cohesion (declared by the late Arizona Republican Senator John McCain). They erred in claiming that gays risked the U.S. military’s mission at home and abroad and who, for no other reason than loving someone of the same sex, were deemed psychologically, psychiatrically, and mentally unstable—a conception and diagnosis later disproved by the American Psychiatric Association in 1973.

Similar to prejudicing and slighting the service by African Americans and women in combat roles, gays were targeted and seen as unfit for duty by the ill-informed policies and politicians sitting in comfortable leather seats in Washington, DC. This while LGBT soldiers—transgender included since most of them served discretely during DADT; those who were openly transgender and stayed in the service were able to do so because their commanders did not seek their removal—served and sacrificed happiness and blood for the country they loved. While it was commendable that President Clinton sought to allow open service by GLBs, Congress, unfortunately, continued to claim that they were a menace to U.S. security and came up with a so-called compromise—DADT—which also did not proscribe discrimination against gays in the military. The Military Readiness Enhancement Act was a bill introduced in several congressional sessions before the repeal of DADT continued to stall. It would have required an amendment to Title 10 to allow for nondiscrimination based on sexual orientation. Only President Obama and a few good men—Defense Secretary Leon Panetta and Admiral Mike Mullen—spearheaded the movement to allow LGBTs’ open service.

Most chaplains, senior leaders in the military, leaders within our command, sexual harassment/assault response and prevention personnel, and equal opportunity program managers did not—and some still do not—emphasize prevention of discrimination against gays. General topic discussion of anti-harassment didn’t include the harassment concerning GLBs. All the videos promoting anti-discrimination were about hetero interactions. How about the gays? How about those who hid their true self while outwardly showing the utmost love for their country as they fought and died on the battlefields, while those sitting in Washington dismissed them as mentally unstable and a security threat? Who cares anyway, right? That’s the typical hyper-masculine attitude. For a drill sergeant who has been awarded and promoted for his ability to train company, battalion, and brigade-size troops—having trained more than 5,000 recruits—, a drill sergeant leader who’s coached the Army’s noncommissioned and commissioned officers, a senior noncommissioned officer who’s been graciously awarded the military’s bronze star medal and received accolades while deployed in Afghanistan, and now an officer who is the executive officer for a military police company, did I have to hide my inner self-worth to be esteemed and recognized in the Army? Like so many others who, to be regarded as a member of the team by the military, yes, I did.

Acknowledgments

Not all Army drill sergeants are mean and unapproachable. One in particular, with whom I am thankful to have served alongside and is still a close friend, is Drill Sergeant Charles. While he had a mean streak and made your skin crawl when he roared commands as his way of motivating, he was empathetic, would unreservedly listen to you, and would go the extra mile to guarantee you were adequately trained and your needs addressed. The drill sergeant campaign hat, brown round as is commonly referred to in the Army, and is markedly seen worn in movies by the drill sergeants, was a hat he wore well. He was a trailblazer who could instill the necessary Army values in those who lacked them. While he wore his campaign hat with terror in his eyes, behind the facade was a sympathetic man.

I also want to thank my friends in the service and those who are no longer wearing the uniform. I’ve heard many horror stories of basic training in the 1970s and 1980s. Many officers, drill sergeants, first sergeants, platoon sergeants, and other sergeants preyed on and targeted gays in the military. Known or suspected to be gay, effeminate, or foppish straight males were witch-hunted and experienced the indignation and ire of those who sought to out or harass them, whether they were gay or not. Other leaders, on the other hand—such as my former First Sergeant Lyles—intervened to stop the harassment of gays. Though he was a senior noncommissioned officer, he and others like him would intervene, counsel, and require subordinates to stand up to what was just. Even when policies outlawed open gay service, he would see that his training and work environment were free of all discrimination forms.

Lastly, I want to thank my civilian counterparts. For some—whether through witnessed accounts, tales of those removed from the service, or those who closely follow military policies and their implications—the military can be a forbidding place to serve for the GLB service members.

The Thing to Do

While still in high school, I participated in the typical dating scene. Dating someone of the opposite sex was the thing to do. I recall Deanna, who was very much in love with me, though I never wanted to date her. She was so foolishly love-stricken and infatuated with me that she left love letters in my parents’ mailbox. I am still unsure if my mother got the impression that I had a secret admirer as I was chasing letters from the mailbox that were addressed to me to see if Deanna sent me yet another letter. I did not want my parents to find out who was into me, chiefly not Deanna. The lipstick-smeared and perfume-soaked lengthy dreamy letters proved her puppy love for me, though I cringed at the idea that I would ever consider her my type.

Playing soccer and playing the tuba in the marching band were ways for me to be masculine, to fit in with the straight guys, and allowed me to keep my dark secret a better-hidden one. Guys like me, who do manly things such as play sports, play specific musical instruments, hike, hunt, skateboard, or work on cars, are at most times not questioned about their sexual orientation. Some guys who wear flashy clothes or colors, have effeminate mannerisms (this includes some straight males), talk a certain way, or are seen around gay people may also have their orientation interrogated.

I did, however, have a crush on a guy named Dustin. My junior year of high school was when I discovered that he lived down the street from me. I ran into him at the community swimming pool and secretly hit on him, not hitting on him to be with him, but hitting on him because he was attractive and good-looking—sensual straight friends are always welcome, right? Even though he had a girlfriend and I had a girlfriend at the time, I was more into him than the person I was seeing; the girl I was talking to pursued a relationship more than I cared for her to. Dustin drove a Ford Mustang, and I made sure that I was masculine and clandestine about how much time I spent with him; I had to pretend that we were just straight friends interested in girls and cars. He was the sweetest guy, and as I naturally do get along with almost anyone, especially him—I made sure that I continued that bond. Since we lived down the street from each other, I rode home with him after school. I didn’t have a car, but he did. The rickety, overly bouncy school bus rides were maddening, the kids who rode the bus were annoying, and I wanted to feel more independent and fit in with the cool kids who