BJUnity

A few weeks ago, we introduced our readers to Steve Shamblin, 1985 BJU alumnus, formerly part-time faculty, staff member, and Business Office administrator of Bob Jones University, over a 14-year career at BJU following his undergraduate degree.

A board member of lgbt-BJU.org, Steve currently teaches a high school honors English course and is an author and activist in the area of civil liberties. He recently shared the following poem with us.

Just As I Am

The conflict started about the time of Vietnam
(But the awareness did not surface for a half dozen more years).
The young men—how good they looked.
The girls knew it; they saw it, too.
The boys performed—
They were athletic;
They were hunters;
They were mechanics;
They were impressive.
The girls swooned; the girls giggled.
I knew how they felt, but society determined that I could not.

Time passed—one war was over, another began.
The conflict always present.

I did as expected, as I was drafted.
I did exactly as prescribed.
I was academic.
I was artistic.
I was confident in my faith.
I went to church so regular, even more than most.
I was told that it was best.
I was told that it was holy.
(I watched the guys from afar.)

Time passed—one school was over, another began.
The conflict always present.

The worldly colleges were out of question—
There was sin; I would fall.
Instead I chose the gated one that fortressed faith.
This would do it; I was sure.
Academics were the course that would equip us in the world.
Culture would be the key, lending our religion credulity.
Social limitations would guide our strayest thought
(and girls were on the other side of campus just for extra measure).
Everything was scriptural; questions were dismissed with a verse.
Griping was not tolerated.

Time passed—one chapel over, another to come.
The conflict ever present.

Young men were housed together in cells of threes and fours.
Young men showered together in stalls by tens and twelves.
Young men studied together in hours of prescribed silence.
Young men romped around the dorms barely clothed.
Young men met together in societies—they were buddies.
So many young men I watched from afar,
But never could it be spoken.

Time passed—one “temptation” over, another sure to come.
The conflict ever present.

“Get married.”
“Have a family.”
“If you have a problem, it is with you.”
“Your thoughts are but lust—you need to pray some more.”
“May every one of them be stoned or die.”
These were words that flew so freely
From the people with the Bible in their hand.

Time passed—one phase over, another to begin.
The conflict ever present.

Marriage came.
Ministry came.
Family came.
Frustration ever present—
Guilt ever lurking,
Someone always watching—
Surely they will find out.

Time passed—one year over, another would begin.
The conflict ever present.

The time had come when prayers would fail.
The time had come when the heart was not true.
The time had come when life was such a sham.
The time had come to be who I am.
The time had come to find—
Either God is weak to take it away,
Or God is good—He made me gay!

Time has passed—one life is over, another has begun.
The conflict is resolved.

The guys that catch my eye do not cause me grief.
I do not think that I must go to pray or read a verse.
I do not worry that the problem is with me.
I do not let the “lust” destroy my deepest faith.
I interact.
I fall in love.
I fight for rights to marry.
I give support and counsel to those who seek to find their way.
I educate to understand diversity.
I am proud of youth who do not have to hesitate
To claim who they are.

On occasion when I look back on all the time that passed—
I consider that “bastion” that controlled so long.
As I stand outside the gate for admission,
I realize that God is so much, much bigger and more gracious
Than those who live within their little, little codified rules.

                            — Steve Shamblin

This poem copyright © 2012 Steve Shamblin.  All rights reserved.