Apple Pride

Marquel, TPVs NYTimes Pride and Prejudice Section correspondent, was watching Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy, when he stopped for a moment and read Tim Cook, Apple’s Chief Executive, Says He Is ‘Proud to Be Gay.’ Mr. Cook becomes the most prominent executive of a public company to come out. But Marquel thought he did more than that. He said it was a matter of pride, as if it were something in which he had invested much effort, and those efforts were successful.

Now Marquel had always believed the accepted wisdom that one is born gay or straight or both, just like one is born white red or brown. In fact, legally, it’s because these are inborn characteristics, and “immutable,” that it may be illegal to discriminate against them.

But here comes Cook saying he’s “proud” of his efforts, or of their result. Did he work so hard at being gay that he’s now proud he succeeded? Congratulations seem in order. Marquel thought they should talk.

“What exactly is it of which you’re proud?” I asked.

“That I’m gay.” He said.

“So if you we’re straight, you wouldn’t be proud?” I asked.

“Well then I’d be proud I’m straight.” He said.

“Which is it, gay or straight that should make someone proud? I’m proud I was at the top off my class in graduate school. Is it like that?” I asked.

“People should be proud of what they are.” He said.

“Why? Without effort? Just for being? Did you work at being gay? Did you used to be straight?” I asked.

“Of course not. It’s how you’re born.” He said.

“Well then shouldn’t it be your mother who’s proud of what she’s done, not you?” I asked.

“I don’t follow you.” He said.

“Okay let’s put it this way. I’m proud of my graduate school As. Should the person at the bottom of the class be proud of his Cs?” I asked.

“I don’t think that’s the same. I’m proud of who I am.” He said.

“Well I think you should be. You’re the head of Apple. That’s a stupendous achievement. But you didn’t achieve gayness, you just are. What’s pride got to do with it?” I asked.

“You may have a point. I just don’t know what it is.” He said.

“Okay neither do I. Except that pride is not apt here. Take me. I have two arms. Should I be proud of them? They don’t throw, shoot, or catch real well, though. I don’t think I’m proud of my arms, though, even though they are me. I’m not proud of my nose or my eyes, or my toenails, nor my appendix. They’re just there, like my sexuality.”

“Well I’m proud to be gay.” He insisted.

“Proud of your arms?” He nodded no. “You’re nails, eyes, nose?” No again. Appendix?”

“Don’t have that, but when I did, I didn’t feel pride. Just pain at the end.” He said.

He looked trapped and I felt guilty. I didn’t know if I could work backward. I didn’t really want to make him feel proud of his missing appendix. But what to say.

He looked at me, a bit crestfallen.

“I think you’re unapologetic about being gay.” I suggested.

“Of course.” He said.

“And without regrets. ” I added. He shook his head emphatically. “I think that’s more important than pride because there’s such a thing as false pride. But I’ve never heard of false unapologetic, or false lack of regret.” He looked at me.

“So are you still proud of being gay?” I asked, “even if it might be a misnomer?”

“Yes, proud, unapologetic, and without regrets.”

“In what way?”

“Really?” He asked. He took some notes on a yellow pad.

“Nope.”