Midshipman Kicked Out For Being Gay Writes About Struggles

In a rare move, a former midshipman who was kicked out of the Naval Academy for being gay has written about his experience.
The Rev. Tommie Watkins Jr., president of the Class of 1998, was forced to resign on May 21, 1997.
He wrote in "Living Out Loud," which he self-published earlier this year, that he was a virgin when he arrived at the academy, and when he left. His mistake was showing interest in a male midshipman.
The other man, a member of a prominent military family, welcomed his advances for a time, but outed the Rev. Watkins to protect his own career.
"I would still pick the U.S. Naval Academy - I love the place, I love what it stands for, I love the tradition," he said in an interview.
At the same time, the Rev. Watkins called the Navy one of the most homophobic institutions he has ever encountered.
The Navy told the Rev. Watkins that he owed $66,717.68 for his education, but was quick to cancel the debt for midshipmen expelled during a cheating scandal in the 1990s, and another who used LSD. The Rev. Watkins hired a lawyer and fought for four years before the secretary of the Navy agreed to wipe the slate clean.
The Rev. Watkins, 31, said one of the most difficult obstacles he has faced is the perception that he chose to be homosexual.
"Why in hell would I choose to be gay?" he said. "It's hard enough just being black and male in America."Being gay has cost the Rev. Watkins the things he cherished most: his career as a Navy pilot, the respect of his family and participation in the Baptist church that ordained him at age 16.
Later, an Episcopal church denied his request to work in the church's AIDS program unless he faked being a heterosexual. One minister suggested he find a willing lesbian and get married, just to keep up appearances.
"My parents told me I was going to die and go to hell," he said. "Ever since the Naval Academy, they have never said, 'We are proud of you.' "
The Rev. Watkins, who grew up in Alabama, lives in Florida. Since leaving the academy, he graduated from Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University and earned a commercial pilot's license. He is applying to law schools, and hopes to help protect the rights of people with HIV and AIDS.
A Naval Academy spokesman said numbers aren't available to show how many mids are expelled each year for homosexuality.
One knowledgeable source, Jeff Petrie, president of USNA Out, a group of academy alumni who are working to have a gay and lesbian chapter recognized, estimated that "three or four" are dismissed each year.
Mr. Petrie, a highly recruited gymnast and member of the Class of 1989 who went on to serve in the Persian Gulf before leaving the Navy in 1993, said it took him a decade to recover from the stress he endured for being a homosexual in the Navy.
"My classmates were saying, 'Let AIDS kill them all - I hope it does.' I tried to become the Teflon officer, but I found out I was hanging on to each one of those comments," said Mr. Petrie, who underwent treatment for post-traumatic stress disorder after leaving the Navy.
Mr. Petrie said few midshipmen write about being gay at the Naval Academy because the experience is so stressful.
One of the few was Joseph Steffan, who was forced to resign six weeks before he was to graduate with the Class of 1987.
Like the Rev. Watkins, he wasn't accused of sexual misconduct but, rather, answered an officer's question truthfully with "Sir, yes, sir," when asked if he was a homosexual.
Mr. Steffan fought the Navy unsuccessfully for six years in court to be reinstated to the academy and commissioned as an officer. He wrote "Honor Bound: A Gay Naval Midshipman Fights to Serve His Country" in 1992.
The Rev. Watkins' "Living Out Loud" gives an insight not only into the academy, but into the author as a child and young man who had several passions.
Mesmerized by airplanes, at age 12 he saved up the dollars and dimes earned mowing yards, bought a $99 ticket and flew alone from Birmingham to Dallas, to Chicago and back home on a Saturday.
At age 16, the Rev. Watkins went to the airport with $1,250 he'd earned by flipping burgers. He started flight lessons immediately and flew solo for the first time on March 6, 1992.
"It was at this moment that I knew that nothing in life would be hard if I put my mind to doing it," the Rev. Watkins wrote.
from The Capital