Braxton, 20, Auburn, AL

I highly hold on to my evangelical roots even though they sort of slapped me in the face a little bit. But I grew up believing certain things, and just because I’m gay doesn’t mean they don’t make sense to me anymore.

There are some things I have to rethink and put different spins on. And people will say, “Well, you didn’t think homosexuality was right until you came out of the closet.” Well, I wasn’t open to discovering new things, and this puts the Scripture into a different light.

Until I started at Auburn, I went to a private evangelical Christian school in Memphis. I realized I was gay in probably the seventh grade, but if I had come out then I would have been expelled. The general consensus at my school, drawn from Romans 1, was that it wasn’t a sin to be attracted to men but that it was a sin to act on that attraction. And so I always said to myself, “I’m in the clear as long as I don’t do anything or tell anybody.”

Even since coming out, I am still more conservative than a lot of college students about sex and sex acts. I had a phase where I experimented, but I’d never say it was whorish or slutty. I had to think, it’s not legal for me to get married, so what is marriage for us? I decided it’s when two people are completely devoted to each other. It’s completely exclusive. I plan on not having serious sexual relations with someone until I get to that point. I think this cuts down on the drama and makes emotional detachment a lot easier, and I think it makes sex more special. My grandmother always raised me to be a Southern gentleman. She kept pennies in her purse and any time I said “yes, ma’am” or “no, ma’am” or held a door, she gave me a penny. I am a gentleman, and I think that intimidates some guys.

I came out by accident last year, during my first semester at Auburn. I was studying for a test with a friend and he was like, “I have a question and you just have to be honest. Are you gay?” I thought, I can lie like I’ve done a million times before or I can tell somebody and see how it feels. I said, “Yeah, I find other guys attractive.” And he’s like, “Oh, I was just wondering.” I was like, “That was it? No pitchforks or fire?

My first kiss with a boy — we’ll call him Boy X, since he wouldn’t want his name used. After I joined the Auburn Gay-Straight Alliance (AGSA), I thought this boy was cute so I asked if he’d want to hang out in my dorm sometime. We watched Milk. And I had some beer shoved in my closet. And Boy X is a big fan of beer. And we’re sort of chit-chatting back and forth. I’m asking what it’s like to be gay. I asked if he’d ever kissed anybody. And he said — actually, I forgot what his response was. I was too focused on saying, “Do you mind if I kiss you now?” And he said yes. And that was my first kiss with a boy.

My dates never last more than two weeks. I do want a relationship, but I have a full life on campus. I’m a zoology major. I came to Auburn because their zoology program is well regarded. I’ve known I wanted to work with reptiles since I was five. Both my parents are veterinarians, and my mom had a snake in college. His name was Alex and I’d see pictures and be mesmerized. When I was nine, my mom let me have a snake. I was like, “Having a snake would be the best thing.” The next year I bought one with my own money, and it just kind of snowballed. I’ve taken care of over 100 reptiles between then and now. Tiki is eight. He’s the only one I have here. He’s about to hibernate soon.

I’m also the political affairs director of AGSA. One of my projects this year is getting a local Episcopalian church more involved with the group, because a lot of people have been really stung by their church and given up on religion.

Now that I’m so involved with AGSA, I’m one of the few people who are the face of the gay community at Auburn. I’ve been thrown out of fraternity parties before. I carry a knife with me, because I’m such an open figure on campus.

Still, any university you go to is kind of a liberal pocket. We’re supported here. Anything outside of campus is different. On campus we only face opposition from highly religious groups and good ol’ Southern boys who are ingrained in what a man looks like and feel threatened by anything else. But when people walk by the AGSA booths and say “faggot” or something, we are just like, “Really? You mean, I’m gay?” We’re kind of smart-asses about it.

As told to Diana Scholl.
Photo by Laurel Golio, taken at Auburn University, Auburn, AL, 2010
To tell your story, email hello@wearetheyouth.org

Chris, 18, Auburn, AL

I love soccer. I could watch it for hours. I coached kids over the summer, and I love watching them develop as the season goes on. It’s exciting to see them get excited.

I used to play, but I broke my knee a year ago so I can’t run much. I was in a wheelchair for six weeks. I couldn’t use crutches because I had just had surgery on my shoulder from a four-wheeler wreck. I was right out of rehab and had to be stupid and go skateboarding. That’s me in a bubble: one accident after another. I want to go in the trauma field of nursing because of my life experiences.

I got hit in the face two weeks ago on the way to a football game with Arkansas by a group of drunk 40-year-old men. I had a rainbow belt on and they thought I was a gay guy. Then they saw my chest so they started backing off. And I had to open my big mouth and say, “I’m not a woman.” So I’m just lying on the ground getting the crap beat out of me, waiting for it to end.

Stuff like that bothers me emotionally, but I can get over it physically. When I’m wearing my chest binder and people think I’m a guy, I don’t get bothered as much. Yesterday I was in Wal-Mart and a woman called me “sir,” and was talking to me like I was a man. There wasn’t that usual awkward pause where people don’t know what to call me. That was the best moment of my life.

I’ve told everyone I’m transgender but my roommates. I’m sure they’ll accept me, but trying to get through the policies of Auburn University is more of a problem since the school doesn’t have a policy dealing with transgender students.

I haven’t legally changed my name for the university. I’m waiting until I’m out of the dorm, so I’m not homeless. If the university sees me as a man, what are they going to do with me, since I’m living in a female dorm?

I’m the only out transgender person I know of on campus. There are supposedly two others, but they’re stealth.

My given name is Kahley, and that’s what my roommates call me. Everyone else calls me Chris. I talked to my mom about it, and Christopher Adam was the name I was supposed to have because my parents thought I would be a boy.

I came out to my family this year, and they’ve been really good about it. My mom’s the one who set up the appointment to get me on hormones. My mom’s really OCD, so she said as long as I don’t grow sideburns, she’s fine with it. I was tired of hiding who I am. But I want to be happy. I’m ready to take the next step.

I didn’t even know what transgender was until less than two years ago, when I started looking on the Internet. I was an army brat and grew up in really conservative, small towns. I was pretty sheltered from the world until about a year and a half ago. But when I learned what it meant to be transgender, it made so much more sense to me.

Growing up, there were times I’d do things that little girls should not do. I tried to pee standing up for the longest time. And every time I was forced to wear a dress, I cried. By second grade, my mom stopped trying to make me wear a dress.

I have a girlfriend, Amber. When we first met last year, I identified as a lesbian, but the label never really felt right on me. But I came out to Amber as transgender and she’s been accepting. She just changed her orientation on Facebook to straight. She labeled herself a lesbian before, but now she labels herself as straight when people ask her. She doesn’t care what other people think. She doesn’t love me as a girl or as a guy. She loves me for me.

As told to Diana Scholl.
Photo by Laurel Golio, taken at Auburn University, Auburn, AL, 2010
To tell your story, email hello@wearetheyouth.org