I have a confession to make.
I am not intending to be melodramatic with that statement. My “confession” is nothing serious. It is not life-changing news (I hope). It is not medical, criminal, nor sexual in nature.
In fact, my “confession” would not surprise my family and closest friends. That makes it easier to write this.
But “confession” sounds so serious that readers would be right to wonder whether using the hyperbole surrounding the word is justified. I think it is in this case. I have kept this secret part of my life locked in a closet for a long time due to potential personal implications of becoming public.
First, it would be striking news to my larger social group. I am a pickleball player and, until recently, was a pickleball volunteer leader in Western North Carolina (WNC).
Those familiar with pickleball are aware that it is a very social activity. Respecting that politics and religion can strain social ties, our group made conscious efforts avoid including those topics in our discussions.
I took special care to do so because I believed my effectiveness as a leader would be compromised.
Second, there is the issue of community reaction. Publicly coming out of the closet (not that one!) would expose me to hostile opponents not known for their civility. I have already experienced this incivility first-hand on social media platforms. I am certain that anyone who has participated in tough on-line debates knows exactly what I have faced.
I started writing this on January 6, 2022. The date is not coincidental. I am driven by the events in Washington, DC on this day – both the “insurrection” one year ago and its political (mis)characterization on its anniversary.
