On being a closeted athlete
There’s a specific stigma against LGBTQ+ athletes.
Let me rephrase that.
There’s a specific stigma against male LGBTQ+ athletes. And that is on any level. I’m not an expert on this, as I can only speak from my own experience, but it can defiantly be related to the idea that identifying as queer man is seen as weak or “lesser of a man”. Something along those lines.
It goes towards the idea of masculinity and how there’s a criteria you need to follow in order to fulfill that image of “being a manly man”. Anyway, that’s a whole other conversation for another day.
For now, I want to tell you what it was like to be keeping the biggest secret I had in an environment that felt almost dangerous to reveal.
I started playing hockey at a late age, 14 years old. It was an adjustment to playing a sport for the first time, where my teammates had been playing for the better part of five to eight years already, but my passion for the sport had always motivated me.
After the Blackhawks won the Stanley Cup in 2010, I fell in love with the sport, and am still deeply invested in it to this day. I watched NHL Network for hours after school, followed by hockey practice, and fell asleep to the soothing sound of game highlights playing on my iPod Touch. It really is a passion.
At about the same time, I started discovering who I was in a deeper sense. Moving to Illinois from New York was a little culture shocking in the fact that cliques and “dating” were more emphasized at school than they were when I was living on Long Island. Mind you, this was like late elementary school and middle school.
I mainly was focused on just enjoying myself, hanging out with my friends, and watching hockey. As the pressure to “date” arose as I got closer to high school, I noticed that I wasn’t really attracted to my friends, mostly girls, or really didn’t have romantic feelings for them. I felt shy and nervous around boys, but I thought that was cause most of my friends were girls, and I never really interacted with the typical boys that played sports and what so not.
I ignored it and just went on with my life, but a lot of that quickly changed when I started playing hockey competitively.
Middle school hockey wasn’t really an issue. We were young and mostly talked about goofy stuff and anything you’d think 14-year-olds would talk about. I was usually really quiet cause again I felt like I didn’t relate other than when we talked about hockey. Things were ok until high school.
Before I jump into anything I want to say that my experience in high school and in the closet was a lot better than others. I wasn’t bullied, threatened, or anything like that. I was heavily involved in all my activities, always respected, and supported by those around me, but there were a plethora of times I just felt uncomfortable and boxed in. Ok, let's continue.
In high school, I started understanding what this “difference” meant. I spent four years trying to figure out if I was bisexual or had any sort of attraction to the opposite gender. By the time my senior year came around, I had begun to figure out, and come to terms, with that I was gay.
I always knew I’d have a supportive environment. My parents and friends were nothing but supportive of me in everything. I’m pretty sure some of them knew and even supported me before I said anything. To this day, I’m extremely blessed to have that environment around me. However, hockey was the one question mark that I had, and to this day I still kind of have.
Would my high school experience still be similar if I had come out to my hockey team?
Locker room talk is obviously a thing, and people pretty much just brush it off as “boys being boys”. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, but in some cases having that language flung around so freely has internal consequences.
I was never threatened by the language at the moment, but in my mind, I thought about what life could be if I had come out. Hearing the words “fag”, “queer”, “homo” and others I probably shouldn’t write down are said without thought. As someone struggling with their sexuality, it’s somewhat fearful.
I thought about the idea of going to practice out of the closet and trying to think of what might happen. Would I be sanctioned off to another locker room because everyone felt uncomfortable? Would I be looked at differently just because I spoke two words about my private life? Would I need to leave this passion behind?
The NHL and hockey have a history of homophobia. Growing up, I watched the Blackhawks' Andrew Shaw hurl homophobic slurs on the ice, and it was disappointing and disheartening to see someone you look up to use that language. Less than a year ago, it was revealed that a former Blackhawks player was sexually assaulted by a male coach, and his teammates didn’t help him but bullied him about it.
I’m not sure if homophobic language is better, worse, or the same in other sports, but in hockey, it was quite literally a part of the way they spoke. So the idea that I would be looked at negatively for being gay by my teammates was real, and it was scary.
It was honestly one of the biggest reasons why I didn’t come out in high school. I didn’t want to lose my teammates and passion for the game I love over this. So a kept quiet when the slurs were flung.
I felt boxed up. In a glass case and holding the door shut while I watched these words fly around me. It’s probably why I was quick to get on the ice before practice and quick to get in my car after practice. I didn’t want to hear it because I didn’t want to dwindle my passion.
However, there were a few that took the pressure off. I had teammates that I talked to just like friends and have still pretty much seen me the same exact way. There were always good people in that mix and they did leave a positive impact on my experience because they just saw me as Jack and their teammate.
So why am I word vomiting all of this? Well, a few reasons.
- Gay people can be athletic. 2. There’s a serious problem of homophobia in hockey. 3. You may never know who is around you.
Once again, I’m grateful for my experience in hockey and in high school, for the most part. I had fun playing the sport and I had support from my parents and friends. However, it’s important to talk about something like this because gay athletes shouldn’t have to be scared or uncomfortable.
No matter your sexuality, gender, race, identity, or anything, you’re a part of a team and the basis of that is to support each other. Sure, it’s different to have someone there that isn’t part of the heteronormative conversation, but that shouldn’t make a difference.
The NHL has put it the best way in its campaign to end homophobia in the sport: If you can play, you can play. The NHL has a long way to go, but events like Pride Night, and seeing NHL players in pride parades has made the hockey community a little more welcoming.
I’ll never know what my life would’ve been like if I had decided to be forward with my sexuality in high school, but there’s one thing I know. My passion for this sport never died.
