Helms, Hate and Me

Helms, Hate and Me
San Francisco Bay Times, CA

By Jim Patterson

When U.S. Senator Jesse Helms attacked me in a Senate speech in 1994, I felt my world had come to an end. I was out to my family and friends, but I wasn’t ready for Helms’ vicious CSPAN performance. While working as a Foreign Service Officer in Washington, I was appointed to manage the Agriculture Department’s Gay, Lesbian and Bisexual Employment Program. My responsibilities included developing and disseminating information on employment matters and assisting in the recruitment of gay, lesbian and bisexual employees.

During the Clinton administration, GLBT employees were excited about coming out in the workplace. Cabinet heads issued policy statements informing managers that cases of discrimination based on sexual orientation would be investigated by agency officials and taken as seriously as discrimination based on sex, age, race or disability. Some managers agreed with the new policy of openness for GLBT employees in government. However, some did not approve of it based on their “religious beliefs.” I believe it was one of these religious types who contacted Senator Helms about me and my work.

Helms argued that since the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission’s role had not been amended by the Senate to investigate discrimination claims based on sexual orientation, my activities were illegal and I was guilty of misusing government funds. In short, he considered me a criminal and he wanted to inform the nation about me and my “criminal activities.” Other Senators tried to stop his angry attack but to no avail. Thus, I became the first government employee to be subjected to a Senate gay bashing.

It was tough to take this without saying anything. It hurt when Helms called me a “pervert” on CSPAN. My superiors decided I should be silent about Helms’ attack and my agency’s congressional personnel would take care of the “crisis.” It was both great and terrible publicity for the employment program I managed. It put the national spotlight on me. I got dozens of phone calls from conservative news reporters wanting to write articles to inflame their readers to call for my “immediate termination,” as one reporter told me. I chose not to cooperate with any of them. Interestingly, I got no calls from the gay press.

Officials came up with varying stories designed to make Helms look like a fool for attacking me. One was that no Gay, Lesbian or Bisexual Employment Program existed within my agency. Another was that the program existed only on paper. In other words, I really wasn’t doing what I had been appointed to do. This made me angry but I continued to suffer in silence as I didn’t wish to be fired. I cringed with each new story that emerged.

In the end, the bureaucrats claimed responsibility for the program and cleared me to continue with it. This was an expensive lesson for my agency. Telling the truth should have been the first option, not the last one.

After this, I was treated as a pariah in the workplace. Some of my assignments were given to co-workers. My car was vandalized with profanities scraped into the hood. Someone shattered the passenger window. Co-workers had nasty looks for me whenever we passed in the halls. Some prankster put telephone messages in my mailbox that Jesse

Helms had called for me. Other employees were given credit for my work. I learned that workplaces can change quickly when hate is introduced.
When I was posted as attache to the U.S. Embassy in Mexico City, I was thrilled to get out of Washington. On my last day in D.C., I got a surprise.

Someone had placed a photograph of a smiling Senator Helms on my desk while I was out of the office. Some gift! I still have that photograph.

My experience taught me several important lessons. First, truthfulness is always the best answer in a crisis situation. Second, you can never underestimate the power of hate to poison the workplace. Third, call on your community of friends and family when times get tough. There is nothing wrong with asking for help. Finally, know when it is time to leave a bad job. I waited too long to leave Washington, but I left for a home in the heart of San Francisco.

I survived the most hated man in gay America, but I didn’t do it alone. My Episcopal priest was openly gay and he was a source of great strength to me during the crisis. I was also a member of Integrity Washington, DC, the local chapter of the 30-year-old national Episcopal GLBT advocacy organization.

It is ironic that when Senator Helms said the most damning things about me, I was at church preparing a dinner for people living with AIDS. Jesse never knew that, of course, but it wouldn’t have changed his decision to attack me. Haters like Helms see only hate and the money to be raised from the community of haters they represent. They never see compassion from the community of the caring, which includes the GLBT community and our straight allies.
My love affair with San Francisco began years ago when I worked for an agribusiness firm in Modesto. I spent my weekends with gay friends in the Bay Area who joked with me about my romantic prospects in farm country. I didn’t find the man of my dreams in Modesto, but I found several in San Francisco. I traveled to San Francisco so many times over the years that I considered it my second home. It was an oasis of acceptance for me when I was trapped in a bureaucratic desert of intolerance.

Although I now live in San Francisco, I continue to work on a portfolio of international issues. My background in economics and foreign trade is especially useful in the global economy. I am a frequent contributor on globalization to the Foreign Service Journal and other magazines. I also enjoy the international speakers and programs at the Commonwealth Club of California and the World Affairs Council.

I believe that the community of haters is diminishing. Helms or a modern-day Helms-wannabe could not get by today with what happened in 1994. This is due to an improved sensitivity to GLBT audiences and immediate media coverage of anti-gay slurs and gay bashing, public or private. This change didn’t happen overnight. It has taken tragedies like the Matthew Shepard murder and controversial and asinine statements by religious conservatives such as late Rev. Jerry Falwell’s claim that 9/11 was God’s punishment against America for social acceptance of GLBT people to grow.

The community of caring has also grown considerably since 1994. We have all raised the learning curve with GLBT workplace programs like the one I pioneered with the federal government. People work much smarter now than we did in 1994. That is something we can all take pride in. Change has occurred, but more needs to be done to increase the community of caring.

Jim Patterson is an economist and freelance journalist. He blogs at .www-.freindsofjessehelms.blogspot.com