Being Gay in St. A

By Ant Perrucci
It’s no great surprise that St. Augustine isn’t what you would call a gay mecca.
It could never be mistaken for San Francisco, Provincetown, Mass. or the Miami/Ft. Lauderdale/Key West area some 300 miles to the south, but St. Augustine does have a growing gay and lesbian community. In a place where straight people are very much the visible face of the town, changes – albeit slow and subtle – are coming, much as they are in the rest of the country.
Last December, Houston elected its first openly gay mayor; in California, courts are mulling over the legality of a ban on same-sex marriages
and last September, Ancient City Pride held its gay pride festival at the St. Augustine Amphitheater for the second year in a row.
Mayor Joe Boles spoke at the event. He didn’t mention the name of the event or its purpose; instead he spoke about the city’s looming 450th anniversary celebration. Still, he spoke.
Change comes slow, but for some members of the gay and lesbian community here, they can already see them coming.

The Pastor
Rev. Ruth Jensen-Forbell, 63, is the Senior Pastor of First Coast Metropolitan Community Church, which she founded in St. Augustine
in 1997.
She’s been with her partner for over 20 years, but like some of the people who didn’t want to go on the record with Drift, she doesn’t consider her sexuality to be the entirety of who she is.
“My persona is pastor first,” she said. “When you talk about being gay, that is a part of who I am, but, I think that many of us are more identified by our vocations. It tends to be where a lot of people have their identity and their source of self-esteem.”
Jensen-Forbell’s congregation,
which hovers around 140 members, includes gay, straight and bisexual members across racial and cultural lines, she said. The community of churches in town has, for the most part, been supportive.
“From the pastor perspective,
we have been very welcome here as a church,” she said.
“We’re renting [space] from Temple Bet Yam. We’ve not experienced any resistance, any negativity. In fact, [it’s been] the opposite. We’re pretty welcomed by the other churches,” she said. Not all of them, she allowed, but most.
The lone adverse reaction Jensen-Forbell recalled wasn’t even about her sexuality.
“The one negative phone call I’ve received was from someone who thought women shouldn’t be pastors,” she said.
Jensen-Forbell said she sees a higher level of acceptance and tolerance
in the city than some might expect.
“When you have a lot of people who are in the arts, you tend to have a more welcoming community.
And when you move outside of St. Augustine proper, into the suburbs, is where you start to have a lot of people who are very prejudiced
against everybody.”
Jensen-Forbell said she’s got a very clear idea of the importance of her sexuality.
“It’s one of those things where, it’s been made an issue, I believe with a very specific agenda in mind, and I don’t think it is an issue.
I really don’t.”

The Couple

Brittany Demers is 22, tall and lean and speaks deliberately. Alissa Hyatt is 25, and her personality can only be described as bubbly and infectious. They’ve been dating for just over a year, having celebrated their anniversary on New Year’s Eve.
“I have my friends who are straight or gay, and that’s my community,
my friends. And they’re all supportive of me,” Demers said. “It’s not like [gays and lesbians] have to stick together.”
“Here, it doesn’t really matter at all,” Hyatt said.
“I don’t witness any hate,” Demers said.
The pair said that, for the most part, they have enjoyed support from their families; “It definitely makes it healthier,” Demers said. “I’ve been in relationships where, yes, I’ve been gay and I’m dating this woman, but I can’t tell my family
about her because she’s not out to her family about us.”
“She was just living in her own little bubble,” Hyatt added, in the sort of way that you only hear when your current girlfriend is talking about your ex.
“She was just kind of like, ‘Oh, this isn’t happening,’ but it really [was],” Demers said, “and ultimately
it ended because of that.”
Despite being open, out and in a loving relationship, Demers and Hyatt do have self-imposed boundaries when out of the house in town.
It’s not necessarily a feeling of being self-conscious, they said, but “Brittany has the best response about public displays of affection … she’s got a theory,” Hyatt said.
“If we’re going to be holding hands or something, who cares, but if there are children around … “
“I don’t want to spark questions to their parents,” Demers said. “I feel like, if I was a parent to a kid, I wouldn’t want to …” she trailed off.
“You wouldn’t want to be blindsided,” Hyatt said, finishing the thought for her.

The Student

Justin Bergstrom, 19, better known as Jay, is a junior at Flagler College and the Executive
Director of the school’s Club UNITY group.
Bergstrom moved here from Ann Arbor, Mich. Last July. He joined the gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgendered group last September
and by October, he was made Executive
Director.
He’s been out of the closet “just short of a year,” he said. After a stint of relationships, he said he felt that something was missing.
“It was a year of soul-searching,” Bergstrom
said. “It was kind of refreshing, in a way.”
Bergstrom said he feels that, had he grown up in St. Augustine instead of the more liberal Ann Arbor, he’d likely have a different
outlook. When asked if he’d be out of the closet if he’d grown up in St. Augustine, Bergstrom was quick to answer:
“No. [In] St. Augustine, I feel, there’s certain places you go where it’s totally acceptable
and certain places where it’s kind of shady. I don’t think people want to admit that, but it’s true. I don’t think it’s active hate, or anger or resentment, it’s misunderstanding.”
Bergstrom did allow that he’s still adjusting
to the city and the perils of dating in college – things any student, gay or straight, would go through.
“It’s partly the people you know,” he said. “Just go out and have fun. Maybe you’ll meet someone, maybe you won’t.”
“There’s a small scene,” he said, adding that the biggest hindrance to his free time is not his sexual orientation, but the fact that he’s still two years shy of being 21.
“I guess I have been looking, [but] I have other priorities,” he said.
Something he has seen in town is a common
double-standard of lesbians being more accepted than gay men.
“It’s not as taboo to see two girls holding hands and kissing,” he said, “but the minute you see two guys …”
As with many locals who both accepted and declined an interview, Bergstrom said that his sexuality is just part of who he is, not the sum of his life.
“I’m not ashamed of who I am. If you let it define you, that’s all you are. I’m also an artist,
a writer, a friend.”
Bergstrom says he is happy with his decision
and the place he now lives.
“It’s a beach town,” he said. “It’s hard not to feel good here.”