Coming Out Stories

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"Coming out of the closet" involves taking a step forward, a courageous step, that begins with a journey. This journey is one of deliverance, deliverance from oppressive structures to liberating values, from self-hatred to communal love and support. It is a sacred journey because it involves courage and steadfast faith in God.

Some 37 years ago, God uttered my name, ANTONIO MENDIOLA SALAS — no relation to Michael, and my twin sister's, JESUSA in my mother's womb. In sharing a womb and then a home with 13 sibling and my parents, I came to experience the INTRINSIC value of relationships and the MEANINGFULNESS of community. I grew up in a catholic home in a little village of Yona on the island of Guam, located in the catholic-ized archipelago of the Marianas, in the very Jesuit Pacific basin of Micronesia.

Although I've lived a communal life since conception, I often felt alone, trapped in a shell of isolation. I knew at age 12, that I was different, that there was something NOT NORMAL about me.

At 23, I pursued a religious vocation as a Capuchin Franciscan Friar, which brought me to Berkeley to study for the catholic priesthood some 11 years ago. It was here on Holy Hill that the saying of CS Lewis rang so true to me: "You can't go on being a good egg, you either hatch or go bad."

The socialized shells that hindered my life for some 26 years began to crumble when I befriended a former friar, Kevin, who came out to me as a gay man. There was something peculiar yet deeply intimate about that moment when Kevin confided in me. It seemed sacred, a holy moment of deliverance. For I, too, came out to Kevin. For the first time in my life the simple yet profound words, I AM GAY, became words of hope and promise. It was then and there that I took deliberate steps to reach out to those who also experienced oppression and isolation in hopes that they too may live life to the fullest.

Though I never came out to my religious community in Berkeley, the subsequent years of my religious formation were tumultuous years. My deep friendship with Kevin, coupled with my social justice stance, came at a human price. My "superiors" called my religious vocation to the Capuchin Franciscan life, and to the ministerial priesthood, into question. I became the object of scrutiny and my fraternal hospitality and friendliness were suspect for fear that I may be a bad influence on young and fragile men discerning a religious vocation and to those already in the formation process. These turbulent times lead me to make hard choices and to take that irreversible step. I decide to leave religious life and the priesthood track.

In the winter of 1995, I broke the news to my superiors that I was leaving, and I now I had one more important and critical step before me — that was to tell my mother.

I made a long distance call to Guam to inform my mother of the sad news. Delivering the news was devastating because I knew in my heart and soul that this was my calling and I knew that it was almost impossible to actualize it given the prevalent institution's resistance and because of the social sin of heterosexism, among others.

My mother answered the phone. In her gentle voice, she greets me: HAFA ADAI, KO TODU MAULEG (greetings. Is everything OK?). When I heard her voice, I couldn't hold back my emotions. Tears came streaming down my face. With a trembling voice, I told my mother that I was leaving religious life and the priesthood and that I had a secret that I was keeping from her. I told her that I was willing to bury my secret forever because I wanted to maintain the love she has for me.

In my native language, she said to me, "Boy, hu guaiya hao*." I will always love you because you came from my womb. That whatever it is, I could never reject you. I want you to be happy and well and not get sick because of this secret. Assured of her love I said those simple yet profound words. "Mom, I am gay." In her own words, she asked what could be done about this and I explained to her that I was born this way and that I can't be changed. She trusted my judgment, however, and respected my decision. She made two requests though that, ONE, I not leave Catholicism and, TWO, that I don't become a Republican. It's true. Trust me. With a huge relief, I assured her of my love for mother church because God is also there, and that my politics was much farther left.

With all said and done, the rest is history. I've taken many steps in this one journey. Like Esther, I came out and in my coming out I have interceded for others as well. Like Francis of Assisi, we are called to preach the gospel at all times, when necessary, USE WORDS. Si Yu'os ma'ase**.

- Chamoru refers to the indigenous people of the Mariana Islands (aka the Marianas --Guam, Rota, Tinian, Saipan and 12 uninhabited islands); also refers to the native language.

*means I love you
**means thank you; literally means God have mercy

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