My brother is a really brave man, and I never really knew how brave until this past weekend. He told me a story about his day, but it wasn't a story about rescuing babies or kittens in peril, it wasn't about fighting wild animals, and it wasn't about a battlefield during war. His tale was far less glamourous, but maybe even harder.
My brother is in the Air Force, but his brave tale wasn't from any danger of gunfire or big scary place in the world. He lives in Northern California, and is an ammo guy at his base there. The big danger in his day to day life is, well there really isn't all that much big danger. He very slowly drives bombs around, so I guess being around bombs confers some degree of danger, but he wasn't brave about the ammo. He was brave at work in other ways.
Last week, he was sent a survey--an anonymous survey (through his Air Force assigned email address)--to fill out online. This survey asked him about all manner of minutiae of life in the service; it asked about food in the mess, living in the community, the base grocery store, and military policy.
It asked how he felt about the military's no tolerance policy of homosexuality in the service. Did he strongly agree with it, agree with it, feel indifferent to it, disagree with it, or strongly disagree with it? He answered that he strongly disagreed. How did my brother feel about don't ask don't tell? He strongly disagreed with it because he believes a person's sex life shouldn't have anything to do with their worklife unless they are a sex worker or they want it to.
At the end of the survey, he was told that the last few questions would be a more in depth exploration of five 'random' questions he had already answered. What do you know, two of the questions it explored were 'no tolerance to homosexuality' and 'don't ask don't tell.' Thomas passionately defended a person's right to love whoever they want regardless of gender. This was the beginning of his true act of bravery. I am sure (and so was he) that the military had a way to track the survey back to him, so it seems likely that, "They'll think I am gay pretty soon," as he said to me. That could put his job at risk (theoretically, probably a long shot since he does like girls).
His act of bravery was taking the survey aloud in his shop. He was surrounded by young straight males from backwater America who don't just dislike homosexuality, but they hate it. It disgusts them. They may not have any sort of realistic comprehesion of it--to them it may just be, at best, Jack and Will from "Will and Grace" and colored by the 'scandalous' sex scenes from "Brokeback Mountain" (which was a movie they never saw)--but they hate it all the same.
My brother knew this when he started answering his questions, but that didn't change his answers. In fact, it only made him madder. He passionately defended his answers in the face of ignorance, hate, and bigotry to people who's minds he doubted he would change. He answered all comers. He answered in the face of people who could probably report him for some of this. They could report that he is gay (I am sure the thought crossed their minds), and that could bring him trouble like he has never before known. He answered with arguments that simply say that homosexuals are just like heterosexuals, and they deserve exactly the same rights and opportunities.
My brother was brave. It is easy for me to say that bigotry is wrong and homosexuals are the same as everyone else because no one I see on a regular basis (or work with or hang out with) thinks otherwise. Big deal. Have I defended my beliefs in the face of real hatred? Have I really ever stood up to people in defense of the unpopular? No. I have even let things go unchallenged that bothered me deeply, that made me feel sick to my stomach. I just sat there quietly and allowed them to pass, but my brother, Thomas, doesn't do that. That is why he is a hero, and hopefully not just mine.
