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Giving
West Point a "Tri"
While
cadets must stay in the closet, an openly gay coach thrives
at the military academy
By
Dan Woog
What's next
for a 45-year-old, 280-pound gay man with high blood
pressure, high cholesterol, and a sedentary lifestyle?
If you're
Lou Tharp, you turn into a swimming fanatic and lose nearly
100 pounds. And then you become a swim coach who transforms
a lackluster triathlete team
into a national contender.
And
where do you do it? At
West Point.
It wasn't
easy for Tharp - a successful businessman and community
activist - to take his first plunge into the pool. But his
desire to "not grow old feeling the way I did" overpowered
his hesitation. In 1996, with the help of a medical team and
Terry Laughlin (founder of the Total Immersion swimming
program), Tharp dove into his new passion. Within six
months, he was winning local and regional meets. By 1998, he
was a World Masters bronze medalist.
He joined a
gay team in New York
and, he says, "accepted a new
identity for myself. All of a sudden I was a fit, active
competitor. I got up at 5:30 every morning, to get in a
90-minute workout. My forward momentum perpetuated itself."
But New
York City pools are crowded and expensive. Eventually, Tharp
discovered a pool at the U.S. Military Academy in West
Point, N.Y., 35 miles from his home. It was seldom open to
the public, and the environment was not particularly
welcoming, but the head of the West Point physical education
department liked Tharp's spirit and gave him passes to the
pool.
"I was an
outsider, but I got to know the academy culture," Tharp
says. "Everyone had a great work ethic and was highly
respectful." He shared the pool with cadets, many of whom
"swam very poorly." One was so bad that Tharp abruptly
stopped and said, "You're driving me crazy." Tharp showed
him some basic techniques, and he immediately improved. He
was like most cadets, Tharp says, "a sponge. They're driven
to excel, especially when they're around people with
expertise."
The cadet
brought a friend to the pool, who soon invited Tharp to
attend his triathlon team practice. Tharp gave them a
swimming workout, and members asked Tharp to help on a
regular basis. In 2005, he was hired as a part-time coach.
Within two
years, the team placed fifth in a national meet, just five
points from first. Tharp had propelled the Army squad to
national prominence - and he did it as an openly gay man.
When he was
first asked to coach, he had agreed - on the stipulation
that he could be completely out. "I won't put up with
anything less than complete acceptance," he told the
officers, who replied that they didn't care about his
sexuality.
Tharp's
coming-out process to his athletes was similarly upfront and
natural. Describing a swimming technique, he likened it to a
baseball swing. "Now you might think a gay man doesn't know
anything about baseball...," he told them. And "that was
it," he recalls now. "No one said anything. It wasn't a big
deal."
He took his
partner, Jim, to a team party. "West Point is a difficult
school to get into," Tharp says. "Cadets have to be
adaptable, intelligent, and aware of their surroundings.
Every cadet there made it a point to talk to Jim - and
really get to know him. Cadets are truly interested in
meeting new people and asking questions about the world.
That really blew us away."
Institutionally, Tharp knows, West Point
is "a very antigay organization." But, he says, "the
rank and file is way ahead of the senior officers."
His
experience is light-years away from 1972, when he served in
the Army. "Top to bottom, there was no respect for gay
soldiers," he says. "There's a huge change today. I know
West Point is like an Ivy League school, but it gives me
great hope that 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' will die of inertia
throughout the military."
Tharp
points to the day Soulforce - a
GLBT organization that works
against religious and political oppression, and
sponsors educational programs for college students - was
refused admittance by West Point's commandant. A group of
cadets collected money on campus and gave it to
Soulforce. "The team told me
about it. They were matter-of-fact, but proud."
In
conversations with cadets and officers, gay issues often
arise. "They're all very open to viewpoints other than what
they've been exposed to all their life," Tharp says. "Most
people mimic what they've heard from religious, political,
and military leaders. It's not surprising people have
antigay feelings. But when they talk to a gay person, they
hear a different point of view. And then they start to
question whether those leaders are right."
Tharp
clearly respects the cadets and many officers whom he's met
at West Point. In turn, he appreciates the respect he has
been shown. "If you don't respect other people, you can't
respect yourself," he points out. "And we can't expect the
military to move forward if they don't accept and respect
gay people."
Lou Tharp's new book,
Overachiever's
Diary, chronicles the swimming training regimen of
the West Point triathlon team.
 Dan Woog
is a journalist, educator, soccer coach, gay activist, and
author of the "Jocks" series of books on gay male athletes.
Visit his website at
www.danwoog.com. He can be reached at
dwoog@optonline.net.
Nov. 13,
2007 |
