Fighting for a U.S. worth fighting for

Harold Aloysius Paulson (Hap), my father, proudly served the United States as a lieutenant in the Third Armored Division, 703rd Tank Destroyer Battalion (the “Third Herd”), under General Patton, during World War II. According to his notes, Hap fought in the Battle of the Bulge and shot the lock off of one of the concentration camps. He was a hero.

There was not a question of service. It was what a person did. Patriotism did not have a bad name in those days.

In the 1960s, my oldest brother, Not X, enlisted in the Navy before the Army could draft him. Maybe not with quite as much pride, he still served our country, traveling as far as Adak, Alaska, and Germany.

But in 1976, when I turned 18, military service was not an option. I already knew that the armed forces issued dishonorable discharges for being different from other little boys. And I was a sure bet. But I do regret not having served my country. Probably explains why I serve as a deputy sheriff today.

I did not have the courage of Leonard P. Matlovich, a recipient of a Purple Heart and a Bronze Star, who, a year earlier, was the first gay service member to purposely out himself to the military. His tombstone does not bear his name. Instead, it reads, “When I was in the military, they gave me a medal for killing two men and a discharge for loving one.” And I respect Tricia King, the first U.S. infantryman to come out as transgender.

It takes courage to fight for freedom in a country where you’re not entirely free.

So, I have no business tweeting about the armed forces, as I have never enlisted. But then again, neither does Donald Trump, who received five different deferments from the military draft. But that didn’t stop him from tweeting “the United States Government will not accept or allow transgender individuals to serve in any capacity in the U.S. Military.”

Now, he may have been doing this to distract America from the Russia investigation or not repealing Obamacare or not firing his attorney general, but he wrote it, a decision based on bias, not fact.

We LGBTQ2s have always been part of the military, just as we have always been part of society. In 378 B.C., Gorgidas founded an elite fighting force in ancient Greece. The 300-man unit consisted of 150 couples, men who had sworn their love for each other at Iolaus’ tomb. They became the Sacred Band of Thebes. Their first major victory was at the Battle of Tegyra in 375 B.C., wherein they defeated the much larger Spartan army. And they remained unconquered until 338 B.C., when Alexander the Great led an army against them. The story is told that Alexander wept at their grave, for they were the bravest soldiers he had ever fought. The samurai class in Japan practiced

nanshoku, or male bonding. Archaeologists have recently unearthed evidence that, although Wonder Woman may have been a myth, it does appear likely that there was a tribe of Scythian female warriors Herodotus would have called Amazons. There are even some who have insisted that Joan of Arc was transgender.

I wear a uniform, but not of the armed forces. I serve as a deputy sheriff in San Francisco, the first city in the United States to actively recruit the LGBTQ2 community (1978). This past year, as part of advanced officer training, I taught a course on transgender, gender variant and intersex persons. Didn’t make me an expert. Just made me a little more culturally competent. One of my coteachers, Stephan Thorne, was the first cop in the San Francisco Police Department to transition while on duty.

It takes courage to put on a uniform and say that you’re different. A lot more courage than it takes to tweet insults in the middle of the night.

My husband dances with Fresh Meat, the first transgender dance company in America, and our two sons are lucky. They grow up in the best city in the world, and straight as they both may be, neither of them are likely to fall into gender assumptions. Zane has no shame about the fact that on any given night he could be watching either Warriors basketball or “RuPaul’s Drag Race.”

He turns 14 next week, which means that in four years he could enlist in the military. That in itself is scary, but I want that option to be honorable, wherein he, as a black man, can serve with fellow heroes, regardless of race, gender, orientation or identity.

That is an America worth fighting for.

It takes courage to put on a uniform and say that you’re different. A lot more courage than it takes to tweet insults in the middle of the night.