Anything but Straight

Unmasking the Scandals and Lies Behind the Ex-Gay Myth

Wayne Besen

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2012
• Print ISBN: 9781560234456
• eBook ISBN: 9781136326394
• Topic: Politics & International Relations
• Subtopic: Politics
• Index: Politics & International Relations

The real story behind ex-gay ministries and reparative therapy!

Nationally known activist Wayne Besen spent four years examining the phenomenon of ex-gay ministries and reparative therapiesinterviewing leaders, attending conferences, and visiting ministries undercover as he accumulated hundreds of hours of research. The result is Anything but Straight: Unmasking the Scandals and Lies Behind the Ex-Gay Myth, a groundbreaking exposé of the controversial movement that's revered by independent religious groups and reviled by gay and lesbian organizations. The book presents a historical perspective on the dispute, examining ex-gay groups such as Love In Action, Exodus International, Homosexuals Anonymous, and profiling a cast of characters that includes Pat Robertson, the Rev. Jerry Falwell, ex-gay poster boy John Paulk, National Association of Research and Therapy of Homosexuality activist Richard Cohen, and psychiatrist Dr. Robert Spitzer.

An in-depth, well-researched, and historically significant account, Anything but Straight is full of startling facts and alarming surprises. The original content and novel material in the book includes:

• a first-ever comprehensive history of the ex-gay ministries and reparative therapy
• the inside story of the night the author photographed ex-gay poster boy John Paulk inside a gay bar
• the author's discovery that Anne Paulk lied about being a lesbian and has admitted to having a strong attraction to men BEFORE she became ex-gay
• previously undisclosed bizarre techniques used by the ex-gay ministries and reparative therapists
• the author's exclusive in-depth interviews with leading ex-gay leadersthey disclose their deepest secrets, hidden desires, and true motivations
• an extraordinary new study that shows that most ex-gay leaders have suffered from substance abuse or severe emotional problemswhile many ex-gay leaders claim they were unhappy being gay, this report helps prove that their dissatisfactions came not from their homosexuality, but from poor life choices and irresponsible behavior
• new revelations that one of the nation's leading reparative therapists hailed from a secretive cult that was scandalized for practicing nude therapy

From the author: Through my extensive experience, I have learned that the extraordinary claims made by the ex-gay groups are without merit and the efficacy of their programs is dubious at best and harmful at worst . . . One frequent question I get is, Why can't gay activists simply leave 'ex-gay' groups alone and let them go about their business? This is exactly what happened for nearly three decades while ex-gay groups labored in near anonymity. But all this recently changed when the ex-gay groups intricately aligned themselves with the anti-gay political agenda of the Religious Right. With ex-gays added to their arsenal, the Right could disingenuously claim to love gay people and offer them hope for change, while simultaneously fighting for punitive legislation. Their insidious message: Since gays and lesbians can change, there is no need for laws that protect them against arbitrary prejudice.

Anything but Straight: Unmasking the Scandals and Lies Behind the Ex-Gay Myth is an essential read for activists on both sides of the ex-gay fence, family members of gays and lesbians, Gay, Bisexual, Lesbian, and Transgender church members, psychiatric and social science professionals, and anyone who has dealt with coming out issues. An appendix of resources and a helpful bibliography make it easy to find additional information on this fascinating topic.

I was readying myself for bed late one Tuesday evening when my phone rang. Exhausted from the long, busy day, I barely had enough energy to answer it by the third ring. What I heard, however, immediately jolted me out of my prebedtime trance and electrified my imagination in excitement and disbelief. Daryl Herrschaft, my colleague at the Human Rights Campaign (HRC), frantically yelled into the receiver, “Wayne, get down here now. Now! I’m not 100 percent sure, but I think John Paulk is in Mr. P’s,” a well-known gay bar in Washington’s heavily gay Dupont Circle area. ¹

“No way. You’ve got to be joking!” I exclaimed.

It must be a case of mistaken identity, I thought. Why would the undisputed crown jewel of the so-called ex-gay movement be foolish enough to frequent a gay dive in Washington, DC, home to nearly every national gay organization in the country? As head of HRC’s efforts to unmask the ex-gay ministries, I was intrigued, to say the least.

If it really were Paulk, this discovery would rock the ex-gay ministries and their religious right sponsors to the core. In 1998, a coalition of fifteen religious right organizations launched the “Truth in Love” ad campaign featuring ex-gays with headlines such as “We’re Standing for the Truth That Homosexuals Can Change.” The full-page ads appeared in major daily newspapers such as The New York Times, USA Today, and The Wall Street Journal. Paulk and his wife, Anne, a self-described ex-lesbian, were prominently featured in these ads, which gave them a platform from which to launch their full-time careers as America’s most prominent professional heterosexuals.

For a time, they had become ubiquitous figures on the talk show circuit, appearing on CBS’s 60 Minutes and ABC’s World News Tonight, Good Morning America, and The Oprah Winfrey Show. The pinnacle of Anne and John’s success came when they graced the cover of Newsweek magazine under the bold headline “Gay for Life?”

Later that year, Paulk published his first book, Not Afraid to Change: The Remarkable Story of How One Man Overcame Homosexuality. The autobiography vividly explains how he transformed himself from an alcoholic, acid-dropping, sex-addicted, transvestite prostitute named Candi into a married fundamentalist Christian through the power of Jesus Christ.

Reverend D. James Kennedy of Coral Ridge Ministries said of the book, “John Paulk has the most hopeful and promising message for gay men that I have ever read.”²

Conservative syndicated columnist Cal Thomas raved, “In his book, … you will find blessing and hope, especially if you are one who has been living in darkness, but longing to find the way to the light.”³

After the book was published, Colorado Springs–based Focus on the Family hired Paulk to head their newly formed Homosexuality and Gender Department for Public Policy. In addition, he was already chair of Exodus International, the largest ex-gay support group, which serves as a worldwide umbrella organization for the ex-gay ministries.

Riding high with his new book and blossoming career, Paulk, a celebrity in fundamentalist circles, was clearly going places with the religious right. He kicked off the new millennium for Focus by launching the nationwide “Love Won Out” tour, which was a traveling road show to enlighten conservative audiences on the secrets of “leaving homosexuality behind”—as Paulk boasted he had done in 1987.

“We say God did not intend anyone to be this way—to be gay or lesbian,” Paulk bellowed at North Heights Lutheran Church while on the Minneapolis leg of his Love Won Out tour. “I accepted Christ into my life and realized I could leave homosexuality. I learned that homosexuality was reversible. Through faith in Christ and counseling and support, over a four-year period, my homosexuality greatly subsided.”⁴

Like a rock star, no matter where he offered his heart-wrenching testimony, he received thunderous applause. Although he was no longer a drag queen, he still hadn’t lost his touch as a performer—albeit his audience had definitely changed.

I knew I had only a small window of opportunity to catch the alleged Paulk, so I grabbed my camera, threw on my baggy jeans, and sprinted to Mr. P’s, about a half mile from my Dupont condo.

Meanwhile, Herrschaft engaged the suspected Paulk in casual conversation, asking the man questions that should have sent him galloping toward the exit like a 100-meter Olympic sprinter, if he were indeed Paulk.

“What is your name, and where are you from?” asked Herrschaft.

“John, from Colorado Springs,” the gentleman calmly replied.

“What is your last name?”

“Clint. John Clint is my name.”

“Are you sure it is not Paulk?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” he replied.

Fortunately, Herrschaft bought me valuable time because the robust man in question began to fancy him. Apparently twenty minutes was not enough time for this man to enjoy his gay bar experience, so he continued to talk to his pushy inquisitor.

“Would you like a drink? It’s on me,” Paulk said to Herrschaft with a flirtatious twinkle in his eyes.

“Are you gay?” asked Herrschaft, persisting with his cross-examination.

“Yes,” the man serenely responded.

Herrschaft continued to engage the man in conversation, revealing, among other things, that Paulk was a Democrat.

Panting and drenched with perspiration, I continued my full-out dash down New Hampshire Avenue toward the dark, dingy bar. As I reached the intersection of Dupont Circle and Massachusetts Avenue, I had to stop briefly after a speeding taxi almost flattened me. The fuming driver rolled down his window and called me what I suspected was the Arabic equivalent of “asshole” as he pealed out.

The adrenaline was kicking and I could hear my heart thumping as I reached P Street, only a few blocks from my final destination. I stopped momentarily to catch my breath before putting my head down and rumbling toward the hole-in-the-wall bar, which was now within my sights.

Standing at the shabby entrance of Mr. P’s, I briefly rehashed my plan. I would furtively enter the joint, look for the alleged Paulk, and, if it were he, slip outside and call gay press reporters on my cell phone. Then, hopefully, they would race down to break a major story by photographing Paulk flirting and imbibing. Of course, breaking it in the mainstream press would have been optimum, but it was highly unlikely a Washington Post or New York Times reporter would bolt to a third-rate gay bar in the middle of the night to take paparazzi-style photographs of an ex-gay leader.

Mr. P’s was the oldest standing gay bar in Washington, having been around since the mid-1970s. The foreboding gray exterior, punctuated by pitch-black-tinted windows, made the bar an intimidating place to those not acquainted with it—and those who were acquainted with it were probably too drunk to notice. The bar was known for its drag shows, cheap booze, and dim, cruisy atmosphere. Around the corner was the “P Street Beach,” a heavily wooded area, Washington’s most notorious gay cruising spot. If Paulk was looking for a clandestine sexual liaison or for a place where he could quietly find mischief, then he was in the right spot.

Imbued with curiosity, I slowly opened the creaky, paint-chipped door and entered the bar, trying to go undetected. Within five feet of the entrance I saw a man who from the back resembled John Paulk. He was wearing khaki pants and a long-sleeved shirt covered by a sleeveless cream-colored sweater. His prodigious love handles extended over his pants’ waistline and his hair was neatly coifed.

The gentleman, whoever he was, seemed to be having a gay old time, laughing it up with several inebriated patrons while expertly nursing his half-empty cocktail. This man looked extraordinarily comfortable, as if born and raised in a gay bar. In the adjacent room, a raucous drag show of female impersonators delighted the roaring crowd.

A tall, scrawny, prune-faced drag queen with a Camel cigarette dangling out of an empty slot in her mouth where a tooth used to be sashayed right in front of the potential Paulk. If the man in question were not completely at ease in his surroundings, the sight of this drag queen would have sent him running for the nearest exit. It was evident, though, that he had no intention of leaving the scene anytime soon. He was clearly in his element, just another man with bad taste in gay bars enjoying a night on the town.

With my head down, I stealthily angled my way to a clear frontal view of the man, positioning myself where I could positively identify him. I had met the man personally on two occasions, once at a press conference in Washington and once in 1999 when I went undercover for an HRC intelligence-gathering mission at the Center for Reclaiming America for Christ conference in Fort Lauderdale. While sleuthing, I even had my picture taken with my arm around his wife, Anne. So if it were actually the world’s most notorious ex-gay, I was more than qualified to recognize him. Now standing nearly three feet away and directly in front of him, I gradually lifted my head. It was Paulk!

My heart stopped. I could no longer hear the pulsating music and the world moved in slow motion. There he stood, his carefully crafted fifteen-year lie about to be uncovered. I was absolutely floored, in a state of total shock. If he tried this risky stunt in Washington, I thought, how many other times in his travels had he gone straight from an antigay conference to a gay establishment? The scene reminded me of a passage I had once read in his book:

One night, I suddenly had an overwhelming urge to go to a gay bar and pick up someone. I almost experienced real physical pain as I resisted. Finally I got down on the tile floor in my bathroom and cried, “God, I beg you, keep me from going to a bar! I can hardly resist. …” Somehow I found the strength to stay home.⁵

Unfortunately for Paulk, tonight God wasn’t on ex-gay patrol and was probably working on less pressing issues, such as ending world hunger or assisting Mideast peace talks.

At this point I was desperately afraid I would be recognized. With HRC I had done several national television shows on the ex-gay topic, including appearing on NBC’s The Roseanne Show. I also had conceived and edited a publication only three months earlier titled Finally Free—Personal Stories: How Love and Self-Acceptance Saved Us from the “Ex-Gay” Ministries, which included people who had been through the ministries speaking out about their negative experiences. Only two weeks before this unlikely encounter, Paulk had personally called me to request a copy of this publication for Focus. During our brief telephone conversation I had said, “I will send you one and hopefully it will help you come out of the closet.”

“Been there, done that. I don’t think so,” he had replied.

Well, he may have been there and done that, but on this night he was there and doing that once again.

Then he saw me, put two and two together, and pandemonium consumed the smoky dive. Raw terror filled Paulk’s widening, panic-stricken eyes as he gasped in horror. My careful plan now foiled, I had no choice but to photograph him. With nothing to lose, I blurted out, “John Paulk, is that you?”

As I tried to capture his mug, Paulk swiftly turned his back and covered his face with his finely manicured hands. This must have been a weird experience for Paulk, for this was probably the first camera in fifteen years that the self-promoting ex-gay leader hadn’t embraced.

As the flash lit up the shadowy, smoke-saturated watering hole, the bouncer and manager simultaneously screamed, “No photographs in the bar.” The short, barrel-chested bouncer quickly jumped between us and blocked my camera lens. I was yelling at them, trying desperately to explain the situation, but with the loud music and all of the confusion, they could not comprehend what I was saying or understand the significance of the occasion. With the bouncer serving as a muscle-bound buffer, Paulk aggressively lunged for my camera and tried to confiscate it, but he was unable to seize it. To separate myself from him, I gave him a solid push, which created some space between us. The bouncer had seen enough and ejected me from the gay saloon.

In this moment of truth, I’m sure the befuddled Paulk didn’t know what his next move should be. If he left the bar, he likely reasoned, I would be waiting, camera in check. However, if he lollygagged, the gay media might arrive to place him at the scene. Paulk’s only hope was to abscond through a side exit, so he beckoned bar owner John Mako and asked about another way out—he told Mako he needed to escape because his “life was in danger”—but there was no covert exit, so Paulk had to face the music.⁶

As this drama unfolded, I was anxiously waiting outside Mr. P’s while desperately trying to reach gay reporters by cell phone. I first tried to reach The Advocate’s Chris Bull, but the operator erroneously told me that his home number was unlisted. I frantically dialed the phone numbers of Washington Blade’s Lou Chibbaro and Southern Voice’s Joel Lawson, a Washington correspondent for the Atlanta-based newspaper chain and a longtime friend. Neither one was home, so I left messages.

About five minutes later, the rickety door flew open, and out scurried Paulk, ducking and veiling his contorted face with his trembling hands. I snapped another picture, but the flash was so slow that I photographed the back of him. What came over me next was a mix of indignation and fury. This was a man whom I believed may have ruined many lives and profited from his lies through his job with Focus on the Family. I confronted him, yelling at the top of my lungs.

“How many young men and women have committed suicide because of you? How many parents refuse to speak to their gay children because you have convinced them their kids can change when they cannot? Your work is killing people, yet you have the chutzpa and audacity to go to a gay bar? Your gig is over! Let us help you come out, so you can undo all of the damage you have done!”

A terrified Paulk broke out in a cold sweat and quickly slithered down P Street toward Dupont Circle. I followed close behind him and continued t...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Contents
• FOREWORD
• PREFACE
• ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
• ACT I: THE EX-GAY MINISTRIES
• ACT II: REPARATIVE THERAPY
• ACT III: THE POLITICS OF CONVERSION
• ACT IV: THE ENCORE
• APPENDIX: RESOURCES
• NOTES
• BIBLIOGRAPHY
• INDEX