“@eatgregeat followed you!”
The wonderful world of Twitter gave me the opportunity to interview the friendly, Greg Cope White, the author of the memoir “The Pink Marine: One Boy’s Journey Through Boot Camp to Manhood.”
White served in the United States Marine Corps (USMC) for six years during a time where it was legally dangerous to be his true self. Today he is out and proud, living a creative life writing for sit-coms, hosting a Food Network show, contributing to The Huffington Post and The Good Men Project, and running two blogs: www.thepinkmarine.com and www.eatgregeat.com.
Each time my Android buzzed in my pocket with a new DM, I learned more about White and his experiences.
Sarah: So I read a small piece of your memoir “The Pink Marine,” and my first question is: What inspired you to actually write about your experiences in the Marines? Did a certain conversation or event spark the idea?
Greg: When the stories about teens getting bullied, and choosing to end their lives, that’s when I started writing my book. If I can become a Marine, anyone can do anything. It truly gets better, but we have to stand up to haters. I wish I had a literary or societal example to follow when I was a kid. Thanks to the USMC, I know we get one life, make it triumphant. Stay here and fight.
Sarah: I noticed when I read the chapter, that your style of writing was conversational and had a comedic tone. Why did you choose to write it that way?
Greg: Charlie Chaplin said: “Life is a tragedy when seen in close up, but a comedy in long shot.” I needed some time after boot camp to tell the stories in the most respectful and powerful way. Since most of my writing experience is from television sitcoms, humor mixed with pathos was the logical recipe for me to follow.
Plus I realize most people haven’t been to boot camp, and have no plan to. I want anyone reading the book to find it relatable to their life. When I read a book, I pull on that character’s shoes and walk through their story. Humor is my spoonful of sugar that helps the military lingo go down.
Sarah: How did it feel to hide your authentic self in the military and in society
[during the 1970s]?
Greg: I was raised Mormon, and I secretly felt that the church wasn’t true, yet 10 year old me lied week after week in church. So by the time I was 18, I was pretty good at pretending. Problem in the military was the sexual identity slurs. When we were called “faggot,” actually being gay made me feel exposed.
Sarah: Exposed as in danger? Vulnerable?
Greg: Yes in danger. Had I reacted the wrong way when those slurs were flung at us – and it was thousands of times – someone might figure out that the word faggot hurt me because I was that. We were there to defend America against enemies, and back then (and now) people think homosexuals are bad. Have they not met us? We are really nice. I am for sure.
Sarah: Do you think increased representation of people in the LGBTQ community is helping with societal attitudes? Or at least helping those with the LGBTQ community accept themselves?
Greg: Yes it is helping. Familiarity breeds acceptance. The more positive examples everyone sees – whether in a book or on TV or at the Olympics or in a story about a high school prom king and king being celebrated – the higher the chance we have to influence society. Let us shine, we’re here to stay anyway. Enjoy the show.
Sarah: How does society’s view of masculinity effect you today? And when you were in the military?
A: I am so happy when I see people freely being themselves. I learned that even though I might not fit the typical masculine ideal (at least what I had in my head growing up – and maybe the hyper masculine world of the military was a weird place to discover it – but that I do have a place in the world. Young guys holding hands in the grocery store? Great. Girlfriends free to dance at their cousin’s wedding as a couple – awesome. But when I served and had to keep my sexuality secret, I felt like I was fighing with one hand behind my back. I had to be guarded, and in the most ironic twist, less of a man. Authenticity is a prize, and one of which we are all worthy.
Want to hear more from White? Listen here.