Analysis Of Mel Roman's Coming Out Under Fire

For my community event paper, I decided to go to the Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art and observe the various works of Mel Roman in his exhibition, Coming Out Under Fire. Mel Roman was a civil rights activist, clinical psychologist, and artist. He served during World War II in the US Navy and was honorably discharged in 1950. During his time in the military, Roman noticed that there was a rather large discrimination against homosexuals. Later in life, he became an artist and activist who put together the collection of art pieces that constitute Coming Out Under Fire. The exhibition shares its name with a 1994 documentary, which is an account of the military policy during World War II in regards to homosexuals. The documentary is shown

playing on two screens in the exhibit.
I made the attendance on Friday, June 19 at around 1 pm. It was fairly quiet while I was there. There were only four or five others there admiring the art works. There were other exhibitions being shown at the museum that day, but I spent most of my time there in Mel Roman’s exhibition.
Going to the exhibition, I felt curious about the kind of art that I would see, and I felt comfortable being there. I have always been a patron of the arts, having gone to a few art exhibits, plays, and symphonies, and the fact that this was an exhibition that focused on LQBTQ issues did not change that. I went into the exhibition with a fairly clear mind, not really sure about the kind of artwork I would see. I was pretty much ready to experience the art the way I would any other. There were certain pieces that drove my feelings in one way or another. For example, there was a piece with three frames side-by-side. They all had the same, identical picture of a baby bottle, and they all had vinyl lettering underneath them. One said ”STRAIGHT”, another said “GAY”, and I am going to be honest, I do not exactly remember what the last one said. It was either “BISEXUAL” or “LESBIAN.” Either way, I remember I could not help but smirk and give a small chuckle because I thought it was a clever way to put the fact that despite our gender/sexual identities we are not all that different. This was immediately followed by some sadness because a lot of people see the differences that are there as much larger factors than the similarities, even if the amount of similarities far out-weighs the differences.
Somewhat similarly, there was another piece that consisted of many pictures on a wall of large groups of people. There was one of a military platoon, one of government officials, and even one of several past presidents. The point of this piece, as described by the description, is that when you look at those photos you do not wonder the sexual identity of any of the people in them, and that is the way it should be. And it was true. I looked at all the photos before reading the description and I just wondered what I was supposed to be looking at in those pictures. There were a fair number of people in those pictures so the odds were pretty high that a couple of them were bisexual or homosexual and that idea did not occur to me until I read the description.
There was one other piece that also made me feel kind of sad. It was a sculpture of a casket with an American flag draped over it. On the side of the casket, in black vinyl lettering, were the words, “DON’T ASK, DON’T TELL.” This was saddening for me because, as I learned while at the exhibition, you would to be dishonorably discharged from the military for being homosexual. I knew that being homosexual would not make you a very popular person in the military, but I did not know that you could be prosecuted and even receive jail time for it. But my revelation in military policy is not really why I was sad. I was sad because there were probably a fair few people in the military who could not be entirely themselves. Even though they may have wanted to serve their country they could not unless they concealed a piece of their identity. Soldiers would go into war zones and die while not being entirely themselves.
As far as whether or not attending this event change my beliefs about gender/sexual minorities goes, I am really not sure.

There is one part of the exhibition that I felt did make me question some of my beliefs. There was one piece where you enter into, maybe, a ten foot by ten foot area and there are large mirrors on all four walls. On the mirrors, in large, black print, were phases or slurs that would be insulting to the LGBTQ community. I do not remember all of the mirrors said, but I know that one said, “DON’T ASK, DON’T TELL,” another said, “DYKE,” and a third one said, “FAGGOT.” And you would just sit in this little area and look at yourself in the mirrors with these words somewhat covering your face. To me it just reminded me that I am a part of a world where slurs, and policies like “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” exist and have existed. It made me think more about how I fit into this world. In a description for the artwork I learned that Roman had become partial to using the phrase, “If you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem.” Reading this made me ask myself the question, “Am I part of the solution?” While I do believe that the LGBTQ community, and in general everyone, deserves equal rights and respect, I do not really advocate for it. Whenever I hear that the LGBTQ community, or some ethnic group, wins a civil rights case I think, “Good for them,” but I have never been someone who stood outside the court house with a picket sign. To be honest, I am not sure if I ever see myself doing that. Whenever I consider doing something like that, I think something along the lines of, “It’s not my fight. I have other things to do.” So I now find myself wondering if I am really part of the solution. Though it is somewhat of a loaded phrase that is very black and white, and I know very well that almost all things in the world are not just black and white but an innumerable numbers of shades of grey. But even on a spectrum between solution and problem I am

not too sure where I would fall.
While at the museum, I discovered that a lot can be silently said through art, and creating and displaying it is actually a pretty good way to advocate for something. Unfortunately though, I am not really the artistic type. The most I can do is play piano a little. I would not know where to start writing music either. But I could encourage someone artistic, or someone I know in the LGBTQ community to do so. Maybe someday their artwork would make it into an exhibit at a museum. And if I for some reason never meet any artistic friends I could always encourage any other friends and colleagues to go see certain exhibitions in a museum, like Mel Roman’s Coming Out Under Fire.