While attending to my daily business on the Hill I've had friends and acquaintances approach me to say thanks for writing a column or that they enjoyed hearing my ideas about a certain topic.
Often my columns are centered on the notion of community, and how living on Capitol Hill allows for human interaction that might not be possible in a place like Woodinville, for instance.
Because our neighborhood is so pedestrian-friendly, random encounters are natural occurrences.
When I first came out and began exploring my sexuality in the late '80s, I marveled at how easy it was to be open about one's sexual preference. On the Hill in particular I saw same-sex couples holding hands and kissing in public.
There were a host of bars catering to the LGBT community including the Cuff, Wild Rose, Neighbors, R Place, as well as such now-defunct locations as Brass Connection and Ritz.
But it took awhile to make friends here, the notorious Seattle cool playing a distinct role. I remember how I loved-and still do, for that matter-summertime at Madison Beach. The sunny, warmer weather and frolicking in the water somehow coaxed out a greater warmth and openness in people, especially in the gay community, who at the time had major dibs on the entire left side of the beach.
Either way, I spent a lot of time in my 20s finding my niche here, making a lot of acquaintances strolling my 15th Avenue neighborhood and visiting Broadway. After a few years I'd established several close friendships, though our times together were infrequent.
Often I would go out to bars alone, just to dance and feel a part of the larger gay community. I met with varying degrees of success connecting with others in this way. Often I felt lonely; other times I broke through the ice with a group or an individual.
When I left Seattle in 1993 after graduate school at the University of Washington and moved east to Washington, D.C., my friendships here surprisingly became stronger. I stayed in touch with Kevin, a friend I made while working customer service at The Seattle Times, as well as with Mark, whom I first met on the bus when we were both working downtown in advertising.
Two other pals I befriended while studying dance on 19th Avenue often would meet me during trips to New York or San Diego. Another friend eventually became my roommate when I moved back to Seattle in 1996.
I share these stories because one reason I ultimately chose Seattle over D.C. had to do with the community-building I saw going on here. After 10 years of observing and participating in it, I can see fundamental progress in the development of the gay community.
In the mid to late 1990s, Gay City Health Project began a series of forums and discussion groups for men exploring topics ranging from AIDS awareness to relationship-building to self-esteem. Every Labor Day weekend CAMP (Come and Meet People), now sponsored by Q-Squared, would create opportunities for men to gather in a rustic environment and spend four days attending workshops, hiking and swimming, and sharing a musical, comedic or storytelling knack in the much-beloved talent show. CAMP celebrates its 12th year at the end of the month.
Another wonderful happening in mid-August is the Radical Faeries gathering at Breitenbush Hot Springs, 60 miles east of Salem, Ore. A diverse group of men from the Northwest, Canada and California meet bi-annually in August and February to engage in rituals, workshops and special events, and to enjoy the solitude in this naturalist getaway with a spiritual bent.
I've thought of participating in Radical Faeries for years, but never made the trek. Many men I've encountered who attended found that the experience altered their perceptions of self and others, creating a rich opportunity for growth and awareness.
Beyond these periodic gatherings, I discovered untold riches in other community activities in which I became involved. In 1998, I began performing with the Seattle Men's Chorus, and that same year started to swim with a masters swim team, the Seattle Orcas, at Seattle University.
In 2000, a friend and I joined Seattle Frontrunners, a LGBT running group that meets Saturday morning to run around Greenlake. Each of these groups creates an opportunity for participating with other like-minded people in an activity I enjoy.
These men and women have become like family to me, because we see each other on a regular basis thanks to our common interest. They know my story, complete with its successes and failures. They held my hand when a parent died or a relationship ended. They celebrated with me when I bought my condo or finally landed the job of my dreams.
Capitol Hill, 20 years later, is still a diverse and thriving neighborhood. I'm grateful for the chance it gave me to live a life I couldn't have dreamed possible.
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