WALKING WOUNDED | Vickie Johnson helps people who have been hurt by their religious upbringing begin to heal. (David Taffet/Dallas Voice)

DAVID TAFFET  |  Staff Writer
taffet@dallasvoice.com

Vickie Johnson said each of the 18 therapists at the Pastoral Counseling Center on Lemmon Avenue has a specialty. She concentrates on helping those who have been wounded by religion.

“It’s something I’ve been aware of most my life,” she said. “As a lesbian, growing up in the church, I was always aware of people who were very hurt, and I went through some of that myself.”

Johnson grew up in the Methodist Church. She was ordained as a minister in the church, but in 1984 the church came out with rules forbidding a lesbian from serving in that capacity.

So although she was ordained, she remains unappointable.

“When I had to leave the church, it was such a loss,” Johnson said. “I was devastated.”

But she studied to become a licensed clinical social worker instead and now attends the Unitarian Universalist Church in Oak Cliff.

“Religion and spirituality can be one of the most helpful and supportive and nurturing aspects of one’s life,” Johnson said. “Or it can be one of the most damaging.”

She said there are a number of categories of religious abuse and in various religions the issues may differ.

Because of their religion, many gay people decide to marry a person of the opposite sex. Johnson said that hurts not only the gay person, but also the straight spouse as the marriage falls apart. And children are hurt as well when the parents divorce.

Some have endured damaging reparative therapy aimed at changing their sexual orientation. With those patients, Johnson said she begins by dealing with the hurt and confusion.

“Who am I?” is the basic question that someone who has undergone reparative therapy must grapple with first, Johnson said. That is followed by, “What do I do next?”

As people come out at younger ages, Johnson said she has worked with teens who have been thrown out of their homes because of their sexual orientation. And she’s worked with older people who come to a turning point in their lives — the death of a parent or death of a spouse or an empty nest — when they realize they cannot hide their sexual orientation anymore.

Some that have come to the Pastoral Counseling Center have been raped by a priest, Johnson said. In the Catholic Church, the priest is a figure of God, she said, so the feeling may be that they have been assaulted and abused by God.

Johnson said she begins therapy by working with a client to figure out what areas of their life are most damaged and how have they gotten themselves through. Then they can figure out the best course of action — to leave, restore or repair the relationship.

Johnson said she administers a spirituality assessment to determine where a person’s support comes from. She also discusses issues of health related to a bad coming out process. People who are closeted may put themselves in unsafe or dangerous situations and abuse drugs or alcohol.

Johnson said those who’ve been subjected to reparative therapy usually come into therapy with her hurt and confused, questioning where they belong and what they should do next. And abuse by a religious figure leaves a victim with a feeling of betrayal by the church and those around who saw what was going on and didn’t stop it, she noted.

Johnson said she helps these clients accept that their victimization doesn’t say anything about who they are, but at the same time, she helps them realize that they are responsible for their healing.

To reach that healing, Johnson said, she helps clients understand their strengths and find support, discussing with them to what extent a relationship with their family can be repaired.

Sometimes, Johnson said, she has to tell her clients, “For your safety and well being, you may have to act as it that person is not in your life. Down the road? Who knows.”

Johnson said getting a healthy self-image of ones sexuality and religion is important.

“Each religion has its own sins and foibles that are inherent and their own strengths,” she said. “I see so much of how religion for some people can be one of the most helpful and affirming things around them.”

Pastoral Counseling Center, 4525 Lemmon Ave. Suite 200. 214-526-4525.

……………………..

Christmas services at LGBT churches

DALLAS COUNTY

Cathedral of Hope
5910 Cedar Springs Road, Dallas
Christmas Eve at:
• Noon. Shoppers’ Christmas Eve,
the Rev. Shelley Hamilton preaching
• 7 p.m. and 9 p.m. traditional worship,
the Rev. Jo Hudson preaching
• 7 p.m. Congregacion Latina,
Interfaith Peace Chapel, the
Rev. Alejandro de la Torre preaching
• 11 p.m. Gospel Mass,
the Rev. Dr. Steven V. Sprinkle preaching
Christmas Day at 11 a.m.
the Rev. Dawson B. Taylor, preaching

MCC of Greater Dallas
1840 Hutton Drive, No. 100, Carrollton
Christmas Eve at 7 p.m. family-friendly service
Christmas Day at 10 a.m.

Promise MCC
2527 W. Colorado Blvd., Dallas
Christmas Day at 10:30 a.m.

White Rock Community Church
9353 Garland Road, Dallas
Christmas Eve at 6:30 p.m.
Christmas Day at 10:45 a.m.

TARRANT COUNTY

Agape MCC
4615 E. California Parkway, Fort Worth
Christmas Eve at 7 p.m.
Christmas Day at 10:30 a.m.

Cathedral of Hope Mid-cities
2400 School Lane, Bedford
Christmas Eve at 6 p.m.
Christmas Day at 11 a.m.

Celebration Community Church
908 Pennsylvania Ave., Fort Worth
Christmas Eve at 11 p.m.
Christmas Day communion
from 10 a.m. to 1 p.m.

Trinity MCC
1846 W. Division St., Suite 305, Arlington
Christmas Day at 11 a.m.

ELSEWHERE

Harvest MCC
725 N. Elm Street, Suite 18, Denton
Christmas Day at 10 a.m.

Celebration on the Lake
114 Golden Oaks Drive, Mabank
Christmas Day at 10 a.m.

This article appeared in the Dallas Voice print edition December 16, 2011.

THE COWBOY WAY | Charlie Colella shows the form necessary to score points at the rodeo, but his favorite event is pole bending, a combination of speed, precision and horsemanship. (Arnold Wayne Jones/Dallas Voice)

ARNOLD WAYNE JONES  | Life+Style Editor
jones@dallasvoice.com

Like a true Texas transplant, Charlie Colella wasn’t born to the rodeo, but he got there as fast as he could.

Even today, at 51, Colella’s family doesn’t quite understand how a boy reared in the Chicago suburbs, who holds down a day job as an office working in corporate America (19 years with Xerox, now with FedEx), now lives on a 12-acre ranch in a small town (population: 1,200) an hour north of Dallas, breeding horses and pursuing his passion for the last 21 years: Ridin’ the rodeo.

In Texas, the connection between mankind and the rodeo is a familiar one. Even in urban North Texas, the Mesquite Rodeo less than 20 miles from Downtown Dallas looms as one of the most celebrated in the country. But Colella’s interest developed while he was living in, of all places, Bakersfield, Calif. — hardly the cliché of Western masculinity.

He has been riding almost as long the International Gay Rodeo Association has been around. “In 1990, I was living in Los Angeles and bored with my life and met these guys from the rodeo,” he explains. “I was a city boy. My folks took us camping and we rode trail horses when I was a kid, but even they said, ‘Where did this come from?’”

Surprisingly, the idea of a gay rodeo didn’t even arise in Texas. The first acknowledged event — a fundraiser to fight muscular dystrophy — took place in Reno, Nev., in 1976. In 1981, the Colorado Gay Rodeo Association had been formed, followed in 1982 by the Texas Gay Rodeo Association. By 1986, the IGRA was formed as an umbrella organization of regional groups, including ones from Canada (hence the “international” designation).

Colella started off his rodeo career big: Riding steer and bulls. That’s where a human sits atop a one-ton wild animal and tries to hold on for eight seconds. Even the best cowboys end their rides being thrown on their asses. “It often was one of the biggest rushes ever!” Colella gushes. Rodeo events have resulted in him suffering a fractured pelvis, a broken foot and a herniated vertebra. He doesn’t ride bulls anymore.

“There’s an old saying: To be a bull rider, you fill your mouth with marbles; every time you ride a bull, you spit out a marble; once you’ve lost all your marbles, you’re a bull rider,” he laughs. “I started with that and rode bulls for a couple years, but I’m a little older and little smarter now, so I don’t do the rough stuff.”

Colella pursues about 11 of the 14 competitions, and he’s qualified for seven events in the IGRA Finals, which take place at the Will Rogers Coliseum in Fort Worth this weekend. (For a complete schedule of events, go here.) The invitational event is considered the capstone of the gay rodeo season.

“Pole bending is the one I get nutted up about. I was sitting No. 1 in it [this year], but I had a bad day last time and someone pulled ahead of me,” he says.

Even with his current slate of events, Colella has had his share of close calls. Just last month, he “had a little argument with a steer,” as he puts it. “I’m not quite sure what happened — I think I got horned,” he says, pointing to a two-inch scar on his forehead smack dab between his eyes. “It was in Kansas City in, of all events, wild drag. My buddy does the drag and the steer got away from us. We caught it and he went around me with the rope. I ducked to keep from being penned and that’s when it happened. It went through my hat, so it could have been worse.”

All in the day of a cowboy’s life.

Or, for that matter, a cowgirl. Gay rodeo has traditionally embraced women in a way that mainstream rodeos have not. In 1989, a woman, Linn Copeland, was appointed to serve out the unexpired term of president of the IGRA, and in 1990 she was elected to another full term. While women’s and men’s events are still kept separate in competitions, Colella for one doesn’t see the women’s branch as being any less competitive: The events are the events, and the skills are exactly the same.

“We’ve had some incredible bulls and some pretty incredible female bull riders. I’d like to see more women get involved — there are like two guys for every girl.

“We compete men against men, women against women, but if we blended it all together some of these women would kick your butt. I was teasing a buddy once that he ‘threw like a girl,’ and did I get my ass chewed out.  I was being unfair — these women can throw a rope. Some of these girls’ll kick your ass!”

RIDE’ EM | Corella will compete in 7 of 14 events at the invitation-only IGRA this weekend. (Arnold Wayne Jones/Dallas Voice)

So what keeps men — and women — like Colella coming back year after year?

As a convert to cowboydom, Colella takes it seriously as a lifestyle. Even at work, he dresses daily in a pressed Western shirt, jeans and ostrich-skin boots; he proudly sports an oversized belt buckle, one of perhaps two dozen he has won over the years for his rodeo skills. (“I’ve got every ribbon, every buckle I’ve ever won. A lot of people put a lot of effort into getting that together and that means something to me,” he says.) For him, as gays are fond of saying, it’s a life, not a lifestyle.

“Anyone involved in the rodeo, gay or straight, says it’s a way of life,” he says. “I’m single, and it’s difficult dating living where I live, but I decided I wasn’t gonna sacrifice what I wanted for a guy. I have a great life so I’m pretty happy. This is who I am. It’s what I am.”

The rodeo also gives him a chance to show off his skills behind the scenes.

“It’s a kind of a gratification of how I’ve trained my horses,” he admits of each victory. ”The oldest horse I own is 19 and she’s the mother of another two, so I have bred them myself. You do well, it is a reflection of that. You’re saying, ‘My horse is very talented, and I did that.’”

But, Colella admits, there’s more to getting involved in the gay rodeo than all of that. It’s the sense of community that comes with it.

“Everyone just takes care of you,” he says. “I think it’s important that we all belong to a group, an organization, whether it’s your church or the leather community or the rodeo. IGRA helped me find who I am, helped define who I am. Any club who can bring out who you are [is valuable]. I’ve met so many people from around the country. It’s just amazing the amount of friends who offer support.

“Most of the people in the top 10 or 20 are competitive, but we all want everybody to do well. I wanna win, but I’m gonna root for the next guy and coach him to do just as well.”

Colella is fit and healthy, but now in his 50s, the most he’ll promise about what he’ll be doing five years from now is say he hopes to be upright. But the rodeo grabs ahold of you in a way you can’t fully control.

“There’s a friend of mine in the rodeo who’s over 60 and still doing all the events: He’s still wrestling steer and riding horses,” he says. “We joke that the day he dies, we’re all gonna say, ‘Thank god! Now we can stop,’ because as long as he’s doing it we can’t justifying quitting. But one day, I’ll do other things at home with my horses.”

Like any great movie cowboy, the time’ll come to ride off into the sunset.

But not this weekend. This weekend, there are ribbons and buckles and titles to be won and animals to be tamed. That’s life on the rodeo.

This article appeared in the Dallas Voice print edition October 7, 2011.

M.M. ADJARIAN  | Contributing Writer mmadjarian@gmail.com

SAY  AMEN | Seelig, above, tapped dozens of gospel artists for his inaugural concert, including out singers Ray Boltz, below left, and Marsha Stevens, below right.

‘GAY’THER HOMECOMING
Cathedral of Hope,
5910 Cedar Springs Road.
Sept. 18 at 8 p.m. $15.
CathedralofHope.com.

………………………………….

Leave it to Tim Seelig to find a way to queer-up the straightest event.

The original Gaither Homecoming was started in 1991 in Nashville by gospel singer and impresario Bill Gaither.

“It’s a huge industry of straight gospel singers — I mean hundreds of millions of dollars,” says Seelig.

And that industry has not been gay-friendly. According to Seelig, too many talented LGBT gospel singers have been excluded from performing at events like the Gaither Homecoming. Many are not even allowed to sing in their own churches.

But there is no want of LGBT gospel music fans out there. So on Saturday, Art for Peace & Justice (which Seelig directs) and the Cathedral of Hope will present the first annual “Gay”ther Homecoming, a gala evening of Christian music and song. Proceeds will benefit the Interfaith Peace Chapel at the COH.

The show, the first of its kind in the nation, will feature 49 singers and six instrumentalists from across the country, singing solos and then joining each other — and the audience — to  sing hymns and gospel songs.

“The audience will know every single song performed,” says Seelig. “They will sing along, tap their feet, clap, and utter many ‘amens.’ I have no doubt there will be tears.”

“The initial idea [for the event] came from a staff member at the cathedral and was simply [intended] to host a celebration of LGBT musicians and their friends during gay Pride,” says Seelig. “It is not meant as a spoof or parody of the Gaither Homecoming industry; we just felt that by giving it that name, people would immediately know what to expect with very little explanation.”

It is, though, meant to be empowering for gay people of faith.

“Over the years, I have come in contact with literally hundreds of musicians who cut their teeth in the church but were completely cast aside once they came out,” he observes. “There is no room for them at the table of main-line religion. Period.”

Seelig faced similar discrimination when he came out in the 1980s, but has since achieved international acclaim as a singer, educator and chorale conductor. He’s also brought to Dallas, through A4P&J, speakers such as Maya Angelou and recently a performance of Terence McNally’s Corpus Christi.

His latest project has two aims. The first is to offer LGBT gospel musicians a welcoming space where they can let their talents shine. And the second is “to bring the audience to a place full of wonderful memories of their own journey with religion and, more specifically, the music of their youth.”

Among those slated to perform at the “Gay”ther Homecoming are LGBT gospel luminaries as Ray Boltz, Marsha Stevens, Mark Hayes, Susie Brenner and Pattie Clawson Berry. Local artists joining the line-up include Gary Floyd, Amy Stevenson, Danny Ray, Lonnie Parks and Shelly-Torres West, along with three LGBT gospel groups: Redeemed, Out 4 Joy and Voices of Hope. The show will be filmed for future DVD release.

“Our hope is that this will be something that LGBT people all over will purchase and enjoy,” says Seelig. “There are so many people all over the world who feel disenfranchised. This is just one way that the Cathedral of Hope and Art for Peace & Justice can help them know they are not forgotten.”

This article appeared in the Dallas Voice print edition September 17, 2010.