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https://richesmi.cah.ucf.edu/omeka/files/original/719d2f1c6a214cfdef26f5845341b10f.pdf
2ed74c217e2ef65413dff53aac55a256
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
Orlando Gay Chorus Collection
Alternative Title
Gay Chorus Collection
Is Part Of
Orlando Gay Chorus Collection, RICHES Program
Type
Collection
Digital Collection
<div class="element-text"><a href="https://richesmi.cah.ucf.edu/">RICHES MI</a></div>
<div class="element-text"> </div>
Subject
Orlando (Fla.)
Music--Florida
Dance--United States
Gay culture--United States
Description
The Orlando Gay Chorus (OGC) is a 501(c)(3) nonprofit arts and humanitarian organization, and part of the Gay and Lesbian Association (GALA) of Choruses. Founded on Valentines Day 1990, OGC is not only one of the largest mixed gay choirs in the United States at over 100 members, but they also boast four smaller ensembles that perform annual concerts, cabarets, and a host of community events, such as Come Out With Pride, Orlando Museum of Art’s Festival of Trees, and World AIDS Day memorial services. In 2017, the group performed at over 105 events, including 15 performances for the first anniversary of the Pulse Nightclub tragedy. Members come from all walks of life and all sexual and gender orientations, including straight allies. OGC lives by the motto “Singing the World to a Better Place” and strives to use music to change attitudes and build a stronger community.
Oral History
A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge.
Interviewer
Campbell, Tyler
Interviewee
Strack, Joel
Bit Rate/Frequency
128kbps
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
Oral History of Joel Strack
Alternative Title
Oral History, Strack
Subject
Orlando (Fla.)
Music--Florida
Mass shootings
Memorials--Florida
Gay culture--United States
Description
An oral history interview of Joel Strack, one of the founding members of the Orlando Gay Chorus. The interview was conducted by Tyler Campbell in the conference room at the Center for Humanities and Digital Research (CHDR) at the University of Central Florida (UCF) in Orlando, Florida, on September 26th, 2016. Some of the topics covered include founding the Orlando Gay Chorus, naming the chorus, the initial community reaction, women in the chorus, the evolving relationship with the community, becoming a mixed vocal group, hearing about the shooting at Pulse nightclub, vigils, outreach events and fundraisers, coping and seeking counseling, the Gay and Lesbian Association of Choruses (GALA) Festival, the Orlando community’s response to the Pulse tragedy, the long-term impact on the Gay Chorus and the Orlando community, and an increase in membership.
Table Of Contents
0:00:00 Founding the Orlando Gay Chorus<br />0:05:27 Directors and accompanists<br />0:08:17 Initial community reaction<br />0:11:16 Women in the chorus<br />0:12:23 Evolving relationship with the community<br />0:14:11 Becoming a mixed vocal group<br />0:16:16 Mass shooting at Pulse nightclub and its aftermath<br />0:24:12 Gay and Lesbian Association of Choruses Festival<br />0:27:20 Community response to Pulse tragedy<br />0:30:12 Long-term impact on the Gay Chorus and the Orlando community<br />0:33:50 Final remarks
Abstract
Oral history interview of Joel Strack. Interview conducted by Tyler Campbell in Orlando, Florida, on September 26, 2016.
Type
Moving Image
Source
Strack, Joel. Interviewed by Tyler Campbell, September 26, 2016. Audio record available. <a href="http://riches.cah.ucf.edu/" target="_blank">RICHES of Central Florida</a>, Orlando, Florida.
Requires
Multimedia software, such as <a href="http://www.apple.com/quicktime/download/" target="_blank"> QuickTime</a>.
<a href="http://www.adobe.com/products/reader.html" target="_blank">Adobe Acrobat Reader</a>
Is Part Of
<a href="https://richesmi.cah.ucf.edu/omeka/collections/show/206" target="_blank">Orlando Gay Chorus Collection</a>, LGBTQ+ Collection, RICHES of Central Florida.
Has Format
Digital transcript of original 36-minute, and 26-second oral history: Strack, Joel. Interviewed by Tyler Campbell. Audio record available. <a href="http://riches.cah.ucf.edu/" target="_blank">RICHES of Central Florida</a>, Orlando, Florida.
Coverage
GALA Choruses Festival, Denver Performing Arts Center, Denver, Colorado
GLBT Community Center of Central Florida, Orlando, Florida
Joy Metropolitan Community Church, Orlando, Florida
Orlando, Florida
Orlando Museum of Art, Orlando, Florida
Pulse, Orlando, Florida
Valencia College, Orlando, Florida
Creator
Strack, Joel
Campbell, Tyler
Publisher
<a href="http://riches.cah.ucf.edu/" target="_blank">RICHES of Central Florida</a>
Contributor
Campana, Kayla
Cravero, Geoffrey
Date Created
2016-09-26
Date Copyrighted
2016-09-26
Format
video/mp4
application/pdf
Extent
234 MB
188 KB
Medium
36-minute and 26-second audio recording
13-page digital transcript
Language
eng
Mediator
History Teacher
Humanities Teacher
Music Teacher`
Provenance
Originally created by Joel Strack and Tyler Campbell, published by <a href="http://riches.cah.ucf.edu/" target="_blank">RICHES of Central Florida</a>, and transcribed by Geoffrey Cravero.
Rights Holder
<a href="http://riches.cah.ucf.edu/" target="_blank">RICHES of Central Florida</a>
Accrual Method
Item Creation
Curator
Cravero, Geoffrey
Digital Collection
<a href="https://richesmi.cah.ucf.edu/map/" target="_blank">RICHES MI</a>
External Reference
Ahlquist, Karen. <a href="http://www.worldcat.org/oclc/62281651" target="_blank"><em>Chorus and Community</em></a>. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2006.
Page, Robert, Louise Greenberg, and Fred Leise. <a href="http://www.worldcat.org/oclc/43552259" target="_blank"><em>The Chorus Handbook: Chorus 101 : the How-to Book for Organizing and Operating a Professional or Volunteer Choral Ensemble</em></a>. Washington, D.C.: Chorus America, 1999.
Boedeker, Hal. "<a href="http://www.orlandosentinel.com/features/os-orlando-gay-chorus-25-years-20150611-story.html" target="_blank">Orlando Gay Chorus marks 25 years</a>." <em>Orlando Sentinel</em>, October 18, 2016. Accessed October 18, 2016. http://www.orlandosentinel.com/features/os-orlando-gay-chorus-25-years-20150611-story.html.
Ogles, Jacob. "<a href="http://www.advocate.com/pride/2016/10/06/pride-orlando-will-take-new-meaning" target="_blank">Pride in Orlando Will Take on New Meaning</a>." <em>The Advocate</em>, October 6, 2016. Accessed October 18, 2016. http://www.advocate.com/pride/2016/10/06/pride-orlando-will-take-new-meaning.
Hyman, Jamie. "<a href="http://www.watermarkonline.com/2016/06/16/community-rises-mass-shooting-orlando-gay-nightclub-kills-49/" target="_blank">Community rises up after mass shooting at Orlando gay nightclub kills 49</a>." <em>Watermark</em>, June 16, 2016. Accessed October 18, 2016. http://www.watermarkonline.com/2016/06/16/community-rises-mass-shooting-orlando-gay-nightclub-kills-49/.
Click to View (Movie, Podcast, or Website)
<a href="https://youtu.be/VuV-MWPkf0A" target="_blank">Oral History of Joel Strack</a>
Transcript
<p><strong>Campbell<br /></strong>It’s September 26<sup>th</sup>, 2016. My name is Tyler Campbell and I am conducting an oral history with Joel Strack of the Orlando Gay Chorus. The interview’s being conducted in the conference room at the Center for Humanities and Digital Research at the University of Central Florida in Orlando, Florida. Um, can you start by, uh, telling us your name and how you came to be associated with the Orlando Gay Chorus?</p>
<p><strong>Strack<br /></strong>Yeah, my name is Joel Strack, and, um, I actually have the distinct position of being one of the founding members of the [Orlando] Gay Chorus, and even sort of, um, uh, before the Gay Chorus, when it was still in its, uh, idea state, I had a—I had a gay cousin—still have a gay cousin, Nardy, and Nardy sang with the Boston Gay Men’s Chorus, and the Boston Gay Men’s Chorus was going to a GALA Festival. GALA is the Gay and Lesbian Association of Choruses, and they do a—they did at that point a festival about every three years, and so they were doing their GALA Festival in Seattle, and Nardy asked if I wanted to join him so he had somebody to hang out with while they were in Seattle, and I said, “Sure,” um, got set up, um, with tickets and everything, and as I sat there watching these choruses from throughout the U.S. perform, I said, “We’ve got to have this in Orlando. This would be something”—and I started saying that out loud to people, you know? “O—Orlando’s gotta have something like this,” and, um, along the way, someone said, “Oh, you need to talk to David Schuler. David Schuler sings with the River City Gay Chorus—or Mixed Chorus—and, um, he’s moving to Orlando, and he wants, you know—it’s one of his dreams, because he was an executive with the River City Chorus—to be, um—to have a chorus here in Orlando.” So David and I met on the steps outside of one of the concert halls. I remember standing there in my overalls, ‘cause that was fashionable of—at the time, and, um, chatting with David about, you know, how this might work out.</p>
<p>I was sitting on the Board of Directors here in town for what was then, uh, GCS—the Gay Community Services. Now it’s The Center,<a title="">[1]</a> and so I was sitting on the board at GCS, and I went to the board, um, when I got home and said, “Wo—would the board be willing to set aside a certain amount of money as seed money for this organization—this new organization to get its legs under itself?” And the board, um, did set aside $500, which was a pretty big chunk of money back then, for the group, um—for us to be able to do a seed concert, and David sort of took over the helm, because he’d been part of the GALA choruses already, contacted the South Florida Gay Men’s Chorus and the Gay Men’s Chorus of Tampa, who came in and actually did the f—initial concert at Valencia College, and, um, so we had our—our first, uh, concert, and everybody who came was given the opportunity to sing up if they were interested in getting more information about the potential of starting a gay chorus here in Orlando. We ended up with about 65 people that signed the list. When we had our first gathering and contacted the people, about 30 people showed up, which was a pretty good ratio considering, and, um,—and that’s sort of when it started happening, um, and that’s how I became involved, um…</p>
<p><strong>Campbell<br /></strong>And w—what year was that?</p>
<p><strong>Strack<br /></strong>This would have been 1991 or ’90. ’90 would have been the seed concert and the meeting. Um, and then we actually incorporated, um, on February 14<sup>th</sup>—on Valentine’s Day in 1991—was the incorporation of the Orlando Gay Chorus, and I remember those first meetings as we were m—moving towards incorporation, w—what’s—what’s your name gonna be? What’s our name gonna be? And we—is it gonna be “Gay” first or is it gonna be “Orlando” first? ‘Cause there was lots of, you know, “The Gay Chorus of New York” and the “Gay Chorus of Boston,” uh, and—and are we gonna use the word “Men’s” in our title or is it just gonna stand alone, “Gay?” And it got pretty, um, um, intense as people were talking about why they thought a different placement of words, what words—are we “The Gay Chorus of Central Florida?” Are we “Greater Orlando?” Are we just “Orlando?” All of those things were part of the discussion, and, um, one of the founding members was Penny [Jo] Chessmen, and so having a woman singing a tenor part with us led a number of us to say, “Well, we can’t disqualify her by choosing ‘Men’ as part of our name,” and, um—and she was pushing—or not pushing. She’s—the suggestion came up that it would be the “Gay and Lesbian Chorus of—of Orlando” or “Central Florida” or whatever. Anyway, that was—that was a—a[sic] interesting lead-in to actually becoming incorporated, and David, uh, became the first president of the chorus. Um, through a sort of a behind-the-scenes search, Charlie Callahan, who was the, um, uh, Composer-in-Residence at Rollins College, was contacted, and he became our first, uh, director, which was a coup for us.<br /><br />Um, his—he was a classic music person, uh, that was world-renowned for his organ music. He—he would go and travel through Europe playing organ concerts. Um, interestingly enough, because of that and not working with vocals so much, his style of directing [<em>laughs</em>] was a little bit different than what we currently got[sic] and what we had since then. Um, the first, uh, accompanist was Terry Thomas, and he then became our—when Charlie left, I believe he became our second, um, director, and then he also—Terry came back and became our emergency director at one point. Um, uh, one of the directors had decided, “I’m done” or they had to move or whatever reason. We were—we needed, uh, a director on the fly, and Terry came back to us and actually—and so he’s sort of our little angel savior, uh, director, and over the course we’ve probably had 9 to 12 different directors over our 27 year history. Um, a—a broad variety of individuals with m—m—many different skill sets that they brought to the table, and I think it’s one of the things that made the chorus really strong—was that this person, um, uh, Aubrey [Connelly-Candelario]—Aubrey, um, focused on production. He came from a musical theater background. So suddenly we were doing costumes and sets and—and surprise moments, and not just standing and singing. Um, Absalon, uh, Figueroa came to us, and he was an accompanist, but he was sort of a New Age-y, um, uh, guru-type guy from Canada. Uh, he was living here, um, with his—later to be his husband. Uh, they m—moved to Canada because he—his husband couldn’t stay here, or he couldn’t stay here. So they both moved to Canada. Now they live in Hawaii…</p>
<p><strong>Campbell<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Strack<br /></strong>Happily married. I love how things change in the world, um—but Absalon brought, uh, a healing, um, and a—an empowerment sort of spirit to the chorus that was needed at that time because we’d had a[sic] unfortunate experience with a director just prior to Absalon. So every—every director sort of brought in their own gift and made the chorus that much better.</p>
<p><strong>Campbell<br /></strong>Um, how was the—the chorus received in the community in the first—in that early period?</p>
<p><strong>Strack<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>] Um, initially, we were sort of, uh, th—th—the arts community didn’t want to have anything to do with us. We actually, um, uh—there was an arts magazine that was published quarterly, and we, um, contacted them to get an advertisement put in about our next—our upcoming holiday concert, and, uh, they refused it because it was too controversial. That—it wasn’t the name of the holiday concert. It was that it was a gay chorus, and they just didn’t want us—anything to do with it. Uh, Valencia College, where we did our first seed concert—we went back to them to try to rent out that same auditorium for our concerts and they refused us, because we weren’t a student organization—was their reasoning, or—or, uh, representing the students of Valencia, and so, uh, we’ve had a number of, um, eh, prickly, uh, unwelcoming experiences during those early years.</p>
<p>Now, th—the—the gay community, the G—GLBT community, was, uh—we were—when we went onstage the first—for our first concert in, um, June of ’91—would have been—yeah—June of ’91, we went onto the stage at the [Orlando] Museum of Art in Orlando—Orlando Museum of Art in their theater, and all of us were like, “W—how is this gonna play in Orlando?” You know? Y—we couldn’t have been more loved. It was—it was just a really, really intense—almost like—almost like the audience had been waiting for something that was that uniquely geared to them that was public and accessible, and it was—the—the—the energy in the room w—we’re—we’re singing and the energy is flowing off the stage, and the audience is there sending it all back at us. It was just—it was really cool, and we still get a lot of that feeling today, but that first one, because we didn’t know—you know, there were people onstage that thought that, you know, somebody’s gonna, uh, do a false alarm or a bomb threat or—and, you know, that, uh—to make sure that this concert didn’t happen, and there—so there was a lot of fear, and there were individuals in the chorus that would not put their names into the program. Even though they were standing there publicly, to have it written down somewhere that somebody could pass onto a boss or onto a principal of a school, eh, or, you know—they just didn’t have their names printed or they used aliases.</p>
<p><strong>Campbell<br /></strong>Mmhmm.</p>
<p><strong>Strack<br /></strong>So those were the early years. Um, it was, uh—we all sang, uh, men’s voice parts even though there were always females in the chorus. From Penny on, we never did a concert without a female or several females onstage with us, but we sang, um, tenor one, tenor two, baritone and bass, and so, most of the women that joined us would sing senor one. Sometimes they’d sing it up an octave. Ironically, um, in our last concert—no, not the last one—the one before, um—one of our bass twos—the low bass parts—was a female—Linda—Linda Knutson. Yeah, I was a section leader at the time and sitting next to her during, uh, rehearsal, and, um, I—I took a bass two part because they—we were just shorthanded, and so I said—and I’m sitting next to Linda and I’m like, [<em>laughs</em>] “You hit those notes way better than I do. Have you ever considered joining the bass two section?” She’s like—she’s like, “Well—well, okay.” So she became our—our low bass—one of our low basses.</p>
<p><strong>Campbell<br /></strong>Um, how have you, uh, kind of—if you can kind of describe the—the—the change—maybe the reception of the community over the course—from when you first started to maybe this year. Um, has that relationship with the community changed and kind of in what ways?</p>
<p><strong>Strack<br /></strong>Yeah, um, definitely changed, and part of it was that, um, as the gay and lesbian community in Orlando came out, um, the arts community started recognizing us not as a key element or a gem within, but part of a tapestry of art organizations here in Florida. Um, the audiences—interestingly enough, our audiences are—uh, when they do the demographics studies, um, our largest segment of audience members are straight women over the age of 60, and in—again, I think it’s due to the outreach and then the changing nature of how people perceive the gay and lesbian community.</p>
<p>Um, we’ve gone through—depending on who the director is— we’ve gone through different phases of being a little more campy or a little more serious, um, and I—I think that that adds to the totality of what people perceive us to be, and that’s not just, you know—we—we will do the number of “Men in Tights” with—with the sugar plum fairies being the big ol’ bears coming across the stage, dancing th—in their tutus, but it’s one piece within the whole concert. So we’ll—we’ll be self-defacing and joke and be campy, but it’s not all we have to offer, and—and I think the—the community’s responded.</p>
<p><strong>Strack<br /></strong>Probably the biggest change we had during that time was going from being a men’s vocal, uh, group to a mixed vocal group, which we are now. It’s, um, soprano, alto, tenor, bass, and, um, because we kept promoting females joining the chorus, um, one of our presidents, Rob Noll—it became his mission to have more women in the chorus, and so he did a lot of artreach[sic]—outreach and effort to try to get more women, but at certain point[sic], I mean, how can you have women that normally sing soprano having to sing tenor? You know, it’s—it’s hard. It’s not enjoyable for them, and so, w—the—the chorus leadership after Rob, very—uh, I—I won’t say strategically, but very carefully—we started having more and more music where the women starting singing soprano and alto, and, you know, it was two pieces in this concert and there was[sic] four pieces in the next concert, and then pretty soon, it was all the pieces in the concert, and it was never like any—nobody put a stake in the ground and said, “We’re becoming an SATB chorus”—and that’s soprano, alto, tenor, bass. It just—the leadership knew that’s where they wanted to end up and they slowly brought this massive group of unique individuals into that reality, and by the time it happened, anybody[?] who[?] went, “All the music’s SATB?” You know, it’s like, “Yeah, it is.” [<em>laughs</em>] You know, it’s just—it’s sort of a matter of fact now, and p—and there were people that left. There were men that left because that went against their reason for wanting to sing, um, but few—few and far between, and it expanded the number of women that we had, so—because suddenly they were a—a—actually able to sing soprano and alto.</p>
<p>Um, one of the other—eh, back to the question about the community and how the community responded, um, huge, huge, um—the Pulse massacre was probably one of the biggest, um, or—or the most impactful moments for the chorus to take its position within not just the arts community, but the whole…</p>
<p><strong>Campbell<br /></strong>I—I—I kind of want to get into that a little bit more. Um, just you on a personal level, um. How did you—how did you hear about the shooting happen[sic]?</p>
<p><strong>Strack<br /></strong>Mm, um, I am retired, and so I was sleeping in on that Sunday morning, and it was probably 10:30 or so, and, um, I turned off my phone when I went to bed, because my friends have a habit of deciding to send pictures and comments at, you know, 12 at night and one in the morning, and so I had the phone off, and I turned my phone on and there was just a rolodex of—of folks that had sent text messages to me, and, you know— “Are you okay?” “Are you there?” “Is there”—and I—<em>This is really odd. Why in the world</em>—and then, as I started, um—some of ‘em started getting a little more specific. “I just wanted to check to make sure you weren’t, uh, at—at Pulse last night or, um, d—eh, that you weren’t injured.” “I just want to hear from you,” and I went, <em>What?</em> Eh—eh, and then I did, um, my Google search and went, <em>Holy mackerel</em>, and I became part of the web of—“I haven’t heard from you. Is”—my friend Rob, that[sic] I mentioned that was the president, I—I called an, uh, he—nobody answered at his house, and he’s the type of person that might go out to that, uh—Pulse on a whim. Um, me—it’s—it’s not a club I normally would go to. Um, it’s—the crowd is way younger than the people I would be hanging with, but Rob might do that just on a whim, and we couldn’t get a hold of him. He wasn’t answering his cell phone and he wasn’t answering the house phone, but I had his roommate, Sherry[sp]—so I called Sherry’s phone, and she was out walking the dog. I said, “Sherry, I just want to check to make sure Rob’s at home. Is Rob—Rob there?” She goes, “Well, yeah. He was sleeping this morning when I got up.” I’m like, “Okay, just—just wanted to check,” but that was happening everywhere, and to—to spend an hour, hour and a half, two hours checking to see if your friends are alive was really mind blowing. It was so, um—what’s the w—a word that I wanna use for it? It was, eh, eh—it was just unimaginable that—that this could be part of my world now, so—but that’s how I found out—was through people checking in to make sure I was okay, and then I’d reached out to people that might be concerned about me—my parents, family and friends outside of the Orlando area—to make sure they knew I was okay.</p>
<p><strong>Campbell<br /></strong>Hm, um, when was the first time that you got in touch with—that the chorus, uh, decided to maybe have a meeting or anything about th—the actual shooting? Did you guys get together that day, or…</p>
<p><strong>Strack<br /></strong>Um…</p>
<p><strong>Campbell<br /></strong>Any time soon?</p>
<p><strong>Strack<br /></strong>The Sounds of Freedom Band [and Color Guard] by chance was doing their concert, um, i—in Loch Haven Park at the theater there, eh—The REP,<a title="">[2]</a> and so a number of us got together to go and be with the community, and then the next night, um, we did our first vigil, as I recall. Eh, it was at the Joy Metropolitan Community Church, and the word just spread to the chorus. It wasn’t—there was, you know—“Alright, we’re gonna meet. Here’s what we’re gonna wear,” and we’d done outreaches before, but nothing on this short of a notice. So, uh, we got together and did the—that vigil, and, uh, some of the—some of the tapes went international from that night, and then we’ve probably done an average of three to five a week ever since.</p>
<p><strong>Campbell<br /></strong>And can you just explain a little bit, like, uh, how those experiences were and anything that sticks out to you in particular?</p>
<p><strong>Strack<br /></strong>Um, for me personally, I think, uh, it was so, um, fulfilling and, um, comforting to have a task, so that I couldn’t go into my own head. I, you know—there was this to get done. We were gonna go perform at the, um, uh, [AIGA Orlando’s] Love by Design today. Tomorrow, we’re doing this. Um, th—there were people in the chorus that started carrying their chorus wardrobe in their cars in case an event—an outreach event or a vigil or something—a fundraiser came up during that they that they could jump into their clothes—drive straight to the event and—and have their clothes with them, um, but it—i—it was—I—I—I went through probably, um, three days of just totally numb, sort of zombielike experience. Um, anything could make me cry. I al—I wear my emotions on my sleeve anyway [<em>laughs</em>]. So this just was like, “Oh, good. I’m brushing my teeth and just sobbing,” you know, um, but, uh, those three days went by and I took advantage of The [LGBT] Center [of Central Florida]’s, um, counseling that they were offering—free counseling to people, and so I went in and talked to a—a woman for about 15 minute[sic], and I think—well, I’ll share with you what I shared with her.</p>
<p>Eh, my—my big internal issue was that I’m—by nature, I’m a Pollyanna. I—I like making people happy. I like—I like keeping things i—in a positive space, and it was hard for me—whenever there was even an inkling of—like looking at the chorus and going, <em>This is gonna bring us closer together. This is gonna be such a good emotional, um, outcome for us as a—as a[sic] organization</em>, and then I’d—and then I’d go into my, <em>How can you say there’s something good that comes out of this?</em> And so that’s what I had to talk with her—with the counselor about—is I feel guilty trying to find the silver linings, and, um, she—she did a nice job, and by the time I walked out, I—my head was back on square again and I was able to move on—still numb, but much more myself again. So that was—that was pretty big. Probably, um, continued to have that, um, out-of-body sort of feeling for about three weeks, and then it—then it subsided and I started getting my legs under me, and we—we traveled to the, um—the festival in Denver in, uh, first part of July. So we went to the Gay and Lesbian Association of Choruses big festival, and, um, we as a chorus [<em>laughs</em>]—you know, the 6,000 people—singers—and they’d been sending us videos for the last like week and a half, three weeks.<br /><br />“W—We Stand with Orlando.” Singing songs that were significant to them, reflecting ‘em on the Pulse ex—um, tragedy, and they would s—you know, “We’re with you, Orlando,” and a lot of it, because it was chorus-to-chorus, was directed right at us—not just the community, but to our singers—and so when we got there to Denver, the outpouring of affection and, um—I made the joke. I said, “At this point we could go onstage and all of us burp in unison [<em>laughs</em>] and the crowd’s gonna go crazy,” [<em>laughs</em>] you know, ‘cause w—we just—we could do no wrong at this point, um, and that wasn’t necessary in the end, uh, but to be there was so healing to so many of us I think, ‘cause it—it was—it was such a, um, uh, clear program that had been put out for us. You know, you can ten—attend this block of s—concerts or this block, and—and this is where we’re gonna get together for this party, and—and every—you—you got to focus on that instead of on doing another vigil.</p>
<p>We did get our wonderful moment onstage, and it was amazing. It was amazing, yeah—and, uh, our director, James [A.] Rode, uh, did a little speech in the mid—in—towards the end of it, um, that described sort of what our experience was as a chorus, and, uh, then wrapped it up with inviting the—the—the theaters weren’t big enough to hold everybody, so there was—you’d have concerts running simultaneously, but we had probably three thousand people in the theater we were in, and James invited ‘em to join us. Um, our final piece was, uh, “You’ll Never Walk Alone” from Man of La Mancha, and so, you know, three thousand other singers—and even they—some of them wrote on—on the webpage for the GALA Choruses their experience, and—and shaking and feeling weak in the knees, and, um, the emotional—that if they hadn’t been there with their brothers and sisters in song, help and hold them up, they would’ve crumbled.</p>
<p><strong>Campbell<br /></strong>Um, how do you feel that the—did you feel that the shooting has changed th—the—the group’s relation to the community in Orlando?</p>
<p><strong>Strack<br /></strong>Tremendously, yeah, um, and I—because of our exposure, I think as any—as much as anything else—I mean, we—we went and sang at the, um, Orlando City Soccer [Club] game and the, um, organizers contacted the, uh, ticketholders and invited them—if you’re sitting in sections 17 through 29, wear green, and so we ended up with this rainbow around the stadium, um, and these are people that probably had never—many of them probably never even knew the Orlando Gay Chorus existed in Orlando, and yet, because of the tragedy, um, they—they stepped up as members of Orlando’s community, supporting, um, the gay community as well.</p>
<p>Um, one of the other things I—I found really exciting during this—is I think the Latin community, um, stepped up in a way, connecting with the gay community that hadn’t been as, um, easygoing or as—as generous, and, um—and likewise. I think the gay community felt for the Latin community—not just those people that got killed, but the—the hurt and the pain wasn’t just ours, and which—to me, I think that’s what’s made—that’s the silv—that’s the big silver lining, you know, that the Orlando—the City of Orlando, um, proved itself to be a community that could face some really wicked tragedy without the response being anger or hatred, um, or scapegoating—that, uh, from the city leaders all the way down to grandma and grandpa in their house, you know, on my street that put out their “Orlando United” sign in front. It was such a wonderful thing to see that this is—this is where I live.</p>
<p><strong>Campbell<br /></strong>Um, and that kind of brings me to my next question. Where do kind of see the relationship between, uh, the Orlando Gay Chorus and the community going moving forward?</p>
<p><strong>Strack<br /></strong>Um, we’re already seeing it, I think, to a degree. We are—we’re getting invited to be a part of events that normally, um—that wouldn’t reach out as far as the Gay Chorus. It would have been these church choirs and that high school choir and th—the community chorus of Orlando—that’d be the group they’d put together for this event, and now, we’re on that list. Now we’re a—a prominent piece of that invitation, um, to a point where I think there’s consciousness of, uh—“And we can’t leave them out,” you know? “They’re—they’re such a significant part of our community,” and because of the exposure we’ve had—excuse me—uh, the exposure we’ve had over the last few months, um, we’ve—people know that we’re pretty good, you know, [<em>laughs</em>]—that, uh, as a musical group, we’re not a flash in the pan, and you—i—if you want to give them money for your ticket, but you don’t go, “You’re not missing anything.” It’s not that way, you know, um, and like to—yesterday, which would have been the 25<sup>th</sup> of September, we, um, worked with the Second Harvest Food Bank [of Central Florida]. They provided the food, we provided all the entertainment—atmospheric as well as a concert—at the Second Harvest Food Bank to raise funds for these two very disparate non-profit organizations, and I—that never would have happened, I don’t believe. You know, maybe—maybe I’m—maybe I just have my blinders on, but I think that that’s one of the things that, as we move forward, we’re getting those opportunities, um, and bringing our story to the, you know—the general public in a way that we never had a chance to do before.</p>
<p><strong>Campbell<br /></strong>And, uh, what did—did your membership change any a—after you started g—getting more, um, uh—I don’t want to say screen time— but more—more visibility in the community? Did people want to communicate with you all and—and maybe join the chorus? Or have your numbers kind of stayed the same throughout?</p>
<p><strong>Strack<br /></strong>Um, we definitely saw a bump. I know that the interest—again, it’s probably twice the number of people that actually came to audition, um, but we’re over a hundred, and we were down to about 80, um, prior to, um, the Pulse massacre, be—and partly I think it’s because people just didn’t even know we were there, and partly I think it was because, um, some people wanted to step up and say, “I—I need to be a part of this forward motion that’s happening in Orlando,” and so—yeah. It, um—the demographics are about the same as far as age and, um, sexuality. We’ve—we’ve got[sic] a lot of, uh, straight allies that are part of our—our, uh—to[?] women’s section. We got our first male straight guy that’s gonna be—hopefully, he’ll be singing with us if—he just joined the chorus, um, but the general population percentages are about the same as they were before.</p>
<p><strong>Campbell<br /></strong>Um, is there anything else, uh, about the chorus or about, um, the chorus’ response to the—to the shooting that you’d like to talk about today?</p>
<p><strong>Strack<br /></strong>Hm, I think—well, this is gonna—I, uh, was at a point in my history with the chorus after having sung with them in every concert for 26 years, I was ready to quit. Um, I just—you know, I s—there were things going on that I didn’t necessarily all[sic] agree with, um, and I just had decided to myself, you know, sometimes, you just need to move on for your own—and for the organization’s, you know, benefit, but when—and th—there was another person in the chorus I know for a fact was in that same space, um, and after becoming such a valuable entity in the community as a chorus, and doing the vigils and doing the fundraisers, and, um, help—we—we started using that—the, um—“Love, Hope, and Healing”—“the Ambassadors of Love, Hope, and Healing,” and so, as that transpired and I got to watch that in re—in real time, I said, <em>Uh, maybe—maybe I need to stick around</em>, because this—this has really refocused us back to what I feel the chorus was supposed to be about, you know? It was—it’s more than just doing a concert and standing onstage. It’s—it’s building people’s pride. It’s being—yeah—more than a musical group. I was—I’ve said it’s three things. It’s music, it’s socialization, and it’s, um, political. Just the fact that we gave “gay” in the name makes us a political organization, and the socialization within the chorus members is so significant to my happiness, and then, of course, the music. You have to do—have musical excellence to be able to get an audience in the seats, um, and—and it’s really—it’s brought me back to the chorus again ever since, so another silver lining.</p>
<p><strong>Campbell<br /></strong>Well, thank you so much for talking with us today and—and for participating in this program.</p>
<p><strong>Strack<br /></strong>It’s my pleasure.</p>
<div><br /><div>
<p><a title="">[1]</a> GLBT Community Center of Central Florida.</p>
</div>
<div>
<p><a title="">[2]</a> Orlando Repertory Theatre.</p>
</div>
</div>
2016 Orlando nightclub shooting
Absalon Figueroa
AIGA Orlando’s Love by Design
American Institute of Graphic Arts
Aubrey Connelly-Candelario
Boston Gay Men's Chorus
Center for Humanities and Digital Research
Charlie Callahan
CHDR
chorus
choruses
David Schuler
fundraisers
GALA Choruses Festival
gay
Gay and Lesbian Association of Choruses
Gay Community Services
Gay Men’s Chorus of Tampa
GCS
GLBT
GLBT Community Center of Central Florida
gun violence
hate crimes
Hispanics
homosexuality
homosexuals
James A. Rode
Joel Strack
Joy Metropolitan Community Church
Kayla Campana
Latinas
Latinos
LGBT
LGBT Center of Central Florida
LGBTIQ
LGBTQ
Linda Knutson
Man of La Mancha
mass shootings
Men in Tights
mixed vocal group
music
nightclubs
orlando
Orlando City SC
Orlando City Soccer
Orlando City Soccer Club
Orlando Gay Chorus
Orlando Museum of Art
Orlando Repertory Theatre
Orlando United
outreach events
Penny Jo Chessmen
Pulse
Pulse massacre
Pulse memorial
Pulse nightclub shooting
rainbows
River City Mixed Chorus
Rob Noll
Rollins College
SATB chorus
Second Harvest Food Bank of Central Florida
Soprano Alto Tenor Bass chorus
Sounds of Freedom Band and Color Guard
South Florida Gay Men’s Chorus
terrorism
terrorist attacks
terrorists
Terry Thomas
The Center
The REP
tributes
Tyler Campbell
UCF
University of Central Florida
Valencia College
vigils
You'll Never Walk Alone
-
https://richesmi.cah.ucf.edu/omeka/files/original/fce724952773f51471717fce7ed72c54.pdf
0fd076b6610ed90aeadf407cf5e14674
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
Orlando Gay Chorus Collection
Alternative Title
Gay Chorus Collection
Is Part Of
Orlando Gay Chorus Collection, RICHES Program
Type
Collection
Digital Collection
<div class="element-text"><a href="https://richesmi.cah.ucf.edu/">RICHES MI</a></div>
<div class="element-text"> </div>
Subject
Orlando (Fla.)
Music--Florida
Dance--United States
Gay culture--United States
Description
The Orlando Gay Chorus (OGC) is a 501(c)(3) nonprofit arts and humanitarian organization, and part of the Gay and Lesbian Association (GALA) of Choruses. Founded on Valentines Day 1990, OGC is not only one of the largest mixed gay choirs in the United States at over 100 members, but they also boast four smaller ensembles that perform annual concerts, cabarets, and a host of community events, such as Come Out With Pride, Orlando Museum of Art’s Festival of Trees, and World AIDS Day memorial services. In 2017, the group performed at over 105 events, including 15 performances for the first anniversary of the Pulse Nightclub tragedy. Members come from all walks of life and all sexual and gender orientations, including straight allies. OGC lives by the motto “Singing the World to a Better Place” and strives to use music to change attitudes and build a stronger community.
Oral History
A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge.
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
Oral History of Richard Lamberty
Alternative Title
Oral History, Richard Lamberty
Subject
Orlando (Fla.)
Music--Florida
Mass shootings
Dance--United States
Gay culture--United States
Description
An oral history interview of Richard Lamberty, a member of the Orlando Gay Chorus, same-sex ballroom dancer, and software developer. This interview was conducted by Geoffrey Cravero at the Center for Humanities and Digital Research at the University of Central Florida (UCF) in Orlando, Florida, on October 11th, 2016. Some of the topics covered include a biographical summary, his educational history, discovering dance, his family history, his relationship with his father, same-sex ballroom dancing, the Orlando Gay Chorus, Orlando Cloggers, becoming a dance instructor, losing communication and physical skills from rheumatoid arthritis, world travels as a dance instructor, homosexuality in Japan, the end of his dance career, North American Same-Sex Partner Dance Association (NASSPDA), the history of same-sex dancing, the kinesiology of dance, Dance Vision International Dancers Association (DVIDA) American Smooth Bronze Syllabus manual, reasons for joining the Orlando Gay Chorus, the mass shooting at the Pulse nightclub and its aftermath, the Gay and Lesbian Association of Choruses (GALA) Festival, being a public figure and representing Orlando, violence against homosexuals, meeting a transsexual Muslim, the John F. Kennedy Space Center (KSC) vigil for victims of the Pulse massacre, homosexuality in the space and defense industry, turning tragedy into positive change, gun control reform, the community response to Pulse tragedy, the significance of the rainbow flag, the long-term consequences of the Pulse tragedy, and the rise of fundamentalism.
Table Of Contents
0:00:00 Introduction <br />0:03:06 Family <br />0:07:24 Same-sex dancing and the Orlando Gay Chorus <br />0:11:06 Living with rheumatoid arthritis <br />0:13:43 Changing attitudes towards homosexuality in Japan <br />0:18:05 History of same-sex dancing <br />0:25:04 Dance Vision International Dancers Association (DVIDA) and the kinesiology of dance <br />0:30:13 Joining the Orlando Gay Chorus <br />0:36:00 Mass shooting at Pulse nightclub <br />0:48:08 Achievements in computer science <br />0:50:36 2016 GALA Choruses Festival and abuse against the LGTBQ+ community <br />1:01:01 Singing at John F. Kennedy Space Center and gun control <br />1:06:37 Community response to Pulse tragedy <br />1:09:11 How the Orlando Gay Chorus can influence political and social change <br />1:17:07 Closing remarks
Abstract
Oral history interview of Richard Lamberty. Interview conducted by Geoffrey Cravero in Orlando, Florida, on October 11, 2016.
Type
Moving Image
Source
Lamberty, Richard. Interviewed by Geoffrey Cravero, October 11, 2016. Audio record available. <a href="http://riches.cah.ucf.edu/" target="_blank">RICHES of Central Florida</a>, Orlando, Florida.
Requires
Multimedia software, such as <a href="http://www.apple.com/quicktime/download/" target="_blank"> QuickTime</a>.
<a href="http://www.adobe.com/products/reader.html" target="_blank">Adobe Acrobat Reader</a>
Is Part Of
<a href="https://richesmi.cah.ucf.edu/omeka/collections/show/206" target="_blank">Orlando Gay Chorus Collection</a>, LGBTQ+ Collection, RICHES of Central Florida.
Has Format
Digital transcript of original 1-hour, 18-minute, and 03-second oral history: Lamberty, Richard. Interviewed by Geoffrey Cravero. Audio record available. <a href="http://riches.cah.ucf.edu/" target="_blank">RICHES of Central Florida</a>, Orlando, Florida.
Coverage
Dr. Phillips Center for the Performing Arts, Orlando, Florida
GALA Choruses Festival, Denver Performing Arts Center, Denver, Colorado
Japan
Orlando, Florida
Pulse, Orlando, Florida
Rollins College, Winter Park, Florida
University of Central Florida, Orlando, Florida
Creator
Lamberty, Richard
Cravero, Geoffrey
Publisher
<a href="http://riches.cah.ucf.edu/" target="_blank">RICHES of Central Florida</a>
Date Created
2016-10-11
Date Copyrighted
2016-10-11
Format
video/mp4
application/pdf
Extent
1.09 GB
283 KB
Medium
1-hour, 18-minute and 4-second video recording
Language
eng
Mediator
History Teacher
Humanities Teacher
Music Teacher
Dance Teacher
Provenance
Originally created by Richard Lamberty and Geoffrey Cravero and published by <a href="http://riches.cah.ucf.edu/" target="_blank">RICHES of Central Florida</a>.
Rights Holder
<a href="http://riches.cah.ucf.edu/" target="_blank">RICHES of Central Florida</a>
Accrual Method
Item Creation
Curator
Cravero, Geoffrey
Digital Collection
<a href="https://richesmi.cah.ucf.edu/map/" target="_blank">RICHES MI</a>
External Reference
Katalin, Lnyi. <a href="http://www.worldcat.org/oclc/951006947" target="_blank"><em>Same-Sex Ballroom Dance - A Challenge to Patriarchal Gender Order</em></a>. VDM Verlag, 2008.
PeRez, Robert. "<a href="http://articles.orlandosentinel.com/2005-12-27/news/DANCER27_1_dance-instructors-professional-dancer-same-sex-dancing" target="_blank">Orlando native overcomes odds, rules dance floor</a>." <em>Orlando Sentinel</em>, December 27, 2005. Accessed November 7, 2016. http://articles.orlandosentinel.com/2005-12-27/news/DANCER27_1_dance-instructors-professional-dancer-same-sex-dancing.
Shepherd, Lindy T. "<a href="http://www.orlandoweekly.com/orlando/who-leads/Content?oid=2253395#" target="_blank">WHO LEADS?</a>." <em>Orlando Weekly</em>, March 30, 2006. Accessed November 7, 2016. http://www.orlandoweekly.com/orlando/who-leads/Content?oid=2253395#.
Ahlquist, Karen. <a href="http://www.worldcat.org/oclc/62281651" target="_blank"><em>Chorus and Community</em></a>. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2006.
Boedeker, Hal. "<a href="http://www.orlandosentinel.com/features/os-orlando-gay-chorus-25-years-20150611-story.html" target="_blank">Orlando Gay Chorus marks 25 years</a>." <em>Orlando Sentinel</em>, October 18, 2016. Accessed October 18, 2016. http://www.orlandosentinel.com/features/os-orlando-gay-chorus-25-years-20150611-story.html.
Ogles, Jacob. "<a href="http://www.advocate.com/pride/2016/10/06/pride-orlando-will-take-new-meaning" target="_blank">Pride in Orlando Will Take on New Meaning</a>." <em>The Advocate</em>, October 6, 2016. Accessed October 18, 2016. http://www.advocate.com/pride/2016/10/06/pride-orlando-will-take-new-meaning.
Hyman, Jamie. "<a href="http://www.watermarkonline.com/2016/06/16/community-rises-mass-shooting-orlando-gay-nightclub-kills-49/" target="_blank">Community rises up after mass shooting at Orlando gay nightclub kills 49</a>." <em>Watermark</em>, June 16, 2016. Accessed October 18, 2016. http://www.watermarkonline.com/2016/06/16/community-rises-mass-shooting-orlando-gay-nightclub-kills-49/.
Click to View (Movie, Podcast, or Website)
<a href="https://youtu.be/K2rphgLl1sQ" target="_blank">Oral History of Richard Lamberty</a>
Transcript
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>Alright. Let’s see. This is Geoffrey Cravero, and I’m conducting an oral history with Richard Lamberty of the Orlando Gay Chorus. The interview is being conducted in the conference room of the Center fo—of—Center for [<em>laughs</em>] Humanities and Digital Research at the University of Central Florida in Orlando, Florida, on Tuesday, October 11<sup>th</sup>, 2016 [<em>clears throat</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>Which, by the way, happens to be National Coming Out Day.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>National Coming Out Day. I saw the s—I saw the sign earlier. Excellent, good timing. So, uh, Mr. Lamberty, thank you for speaking with us today. If you would, let’s start by having you state your name and telling us a little about where you’re from.</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>Richard Lamberty. L-A-M-B—as in boy—E-R-T-Y. Um, I was born in Chicago, Illinois, and we moved to Orlando when I was five. Um, we stayed here until I was 16, and then we briefly moved to Maryland, where I graduated high school, and then I came back to Orlando and attended Rollins [College], um, and then after Rollins, I actually came to UCF[1] for almost two years, during which time I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis and they put me on a medication. Um, one of the side effects of that medication was I lost the ability to read, write, and speak, and so I was unable to complete my graduate degree at that time, um—ended[sic] up moving to New Mexico, where my parents had gone, and enrolled in the university out there to, uh, work in their computer science artificial intelligence department, which by the time I got there, was gone, and so there was not a single person left on campus that even knew that I existed, and there was no one to help me with paperwork or any of the transfers of credit or anything. It was start over.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>] Um, continued to work on the degree out there, but got hired to work on a NASA[2] project that I did for five years, and then moved to California, where I stayed for another 18 years, before coming back to Orlando in 2005, um, basically, to be closer to family, and so I have lived here in Orlando ever since.</p>
<p>Um, I started dancing—you were ask—gonna ask about the dancing thing—I started dancing when I was 10 years old, and I danced first with the Orlando Cloggers, which was a—a youth, square-dance clogging group that was sponsored by the City of Orlando, and from that I got involved in what’s called “round dancing,” which is kind of a hybrid between square dancing and ballroom dancing—ballroom dances and figures, but it’s cued in the same way that a square dance is called, and then directly involved in ballroom from that, and, uh—but because of the arthritis issues then it was like, <em>This is not gonna be what I do with my life.</em> I have to have something else to do, but as long as I’m able I can dance, and I’ve continued to do so for most of my life, um, and that’s taken me all over the world. In fact, I just got back from two weeks in Europe, where I was teaching for the 22<sup>nd</sup> year that I’ve been over there teaching at this event in Germany.</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>Um, you know, life in Orlando—mostly what my life about[sic] here is I’m taking care of my elderly mother. I am her primary caretaker, and, um, and then I do what work is available to me, in addition to that, and, you know, in my field if it can be, so designing software, computer systems and things, or doing people’s websites and such, but, um, mostly my life is about dealing with family, taking care of family.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>And, uh, what d—what did your family do? It was your—did your mother work? Or…</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>Uh, my father was an electrical engineer. Um, he had seven children. I’m the fifth of seven, and, uh, so my mother was basically a stay-at-home mom for a lot that, and then didn’t start really working until I was about 16, um, in Maryland, and then…</p>
<p>[<em>phone rings</em>]</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>Go away.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>And don’t do that again.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>I’ll make that stop.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>I should’ve thought of that first.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>Oh, that’s alright.</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>The only person who can make my phone ring now is my mother.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>]. Okay, um, my father was an electrical engineer. He did a wide variety of things for Swift[?] Martin Marietta [Corporation]. Well, actually, in Chicago, we moved down here for a job at Martin—which was before it was Lockheed Martin—and then, um, up to Maryland. Hated it. Cold weather. Not a[sic] interesting job for him. Came back to Florida at Harris Corporation, where they got involved with the satellite project, um, and then eventually ended up with TRW [Inc.] Space and Defense and retired from them. Um, I worked with TRW Space and Defense—was my first real job in my industry, and then, um, that—on the same project as my father, which was an extraordinary privilege. My father was brilliant and exceedingly humble, um, but just this brilliant man, and I had the privilege of spending five years working with him, and just, you know, being around that mind every day and seeing how he viewed the world, which was fascinating because growing up I didn’t experience my parents quite that way. Um, I grew up in a household where debate was the normal form of communication [<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>You know, and I never knew what my parents thought about anything, because if one of ‘em would say something, the other one’d automatically take the opposite position, and so what did, you know—what did either of them actually believe about the world was almost impossible for me to determine, and, um, you know, in that time period, I actually got to learn about my father, and one of the things that I learned was that he wasn’t ashamed of me, because growing up, he never spoke to me, um, and I—I didn’t know why. It turned out he didn’t speak to me because he was partially deaf and he couldn’t hear me. So when my voice really changed then he could hear me, you know? Alone—the two of us, then he could hear me, and I walked into—he worked in a trailer in the desert, and I walked into his office one day for some reason, and on the wall was a framed poster of a dance exhibition that I had done when I was at Rollins, and I went home and I said to my mother, “Did you know that Dad has the poster from Rollins on the wall in—office?” And she said, “Oh, yes. Your father’s very proud of you,” and up until that very moment, what I had assumed was that he was embarrassed about me because I was a dancer and, you know, not like his other sons, and that really—that wasn’t true. So, you know, that was just—it was remarkable, and, you know, in an era where being gay was not okay, you know, having the security clearance and being gay was not okay, um, it was a very hard thing to do, um, and, you know, my parents were very Catholic. Uh, you know, like “know the pope” kind of Catholic. Um, there’s a photograph of my mother with John Paul II—just the two of them. You know, so it was a, you know—that was not okay.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>And yet, there this poster was. It was an incredible experience.<br /><br />Um, but no. When I came back to Orlando, I continued to dance, and I had gotten involved with same-sex ballroom dancing. Uh, you know, two men dancing together, two women dancing together—which again, two women dancing together has always been socially acceptable; two men dancing together has not, and so, um—and I had a partner here in Orlando. We trained, we worked hard, we eventually won world titles together, and then he quit, and I didn’t have anything to do, so I had heard the [Orlando Gay] Chorus sing, and I thought, <em>I can try this. I don’t sing, but I can try this</em>, you know? I was in chorus in seventh and eighth grade, but, um, I didn’t get a good grade, and when I asked the teacher why she told me I didn’t have a good voice, and so I quit singing, and I never sang again. I mean I wouldn’t sing “Happy Birthday” to people for 35 years. So I joined the chorus and then, you know, started singing with them, and it was fun. It was—I didn’t have to be good. There were [<em>laughs</em>] zero expectations that I actually be good at anything. Not like work, not like dancing, you know—just show up, sing, gave a good time, and, you know, as it happens, apparently, I’ve gotten to the point where I’m okay as a singer, and, you know, had the—the privilege of being a part of the chorus now for six years, and it’s really—it is—it’s a lot of fun. Wonderful thing.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>That’s fantastic. Um, so, uh, can you tell us a little more about how you got involved in, uh, ballroom and Latin dancing? Um, what sort of work, uh, did you do as a board member on the—I saw that you did…</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>Oh.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>The North American Same-Sex Partner Dance Association [NASSPDA]…</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>You Googled me.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>I Googled.</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>Yes.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>Okay, my parents were square dancers. They had taken a square dance class here in Orlando, and they had what was called “hoedown,” which was in the parking lot of the, uh, um, uh, Colonial Plaza Mall in where—what now would be the—I guess the Walgreens or the CVS is in that corner—that was parking. They put up a tent one day and they just had the square dance callers with a whole bunch of people, and people were dancing in the parking lot [<em>door closes</em>], and I saw the Orlando Cloggers perform, and that’s what I wanted to do. I wasn’t quite old enough yet. You had to be 10 and I wasn’t 10 yet, and so as soon as I turned 10, then I could start the classes, and it was amazing. It was run by the city. It was $5 per family for the season—not $5 a week, not $5 a person. It was $5 for the entire thing—for three of us to go and take the classes, and I loved it. I thought it was awesome. I loved the dancing, so, you know, I learned to clog, I learned to square dance, and then I learned the round dancing, which was like ballroom, and, um, we moved to Maryland when I was in high school, and I can dance, and I got a job at an independent ballroom dancing studio as a dance teacher at the age of 16. I—and this is 1975—’75 —’76 —and I was making $16 an hour, which is basically still what a—a beginning dance instructor makes—same—same thing—but I was making $16 an hour teaching dance lessons, and I think the minimum wage was $2.85 [<em>laughs</em>]. So it’s like, <em>Woo hoo.</em> I had money. It’s like I’m 16 years old, I’ve got this job that I can—that I love, and I have money. It was amazing and—and I loved the dancing.</p>
<p>Um, when I developed [rheumatoid] arthritis and—you know, what they told me was I’d never walk again. I was 100 percent disabled, and that was while I was here at UCF. You know, the campus was not that big, as it is now, but I couldn’t walk across campus, and the medication had this profound effect on me. I—I couldn’t communicate, um, you know, I couldn’t write coherently, I couldn’t make sense of what I was reading, and I couldn’t—I could not talk intelligently, um, and fortunately, there was a professor here in the Computer Science Department who understood what was going on, and she advised me to, you know, get the medical records brought in and have my record expunged and sealed so that all of that failing grade stuff that showed up, because of that, would not show up on my transcript ever, and without that I would have simply just failed, uh, graduate school, and probably never been able to get back in, um, and then, you know, got enough better that I could move and get back into school and get a job that was, uh—that I loved, um, and tried to dance, you know, as best I could, and it wasn’t always easy physically.</p>
<p>I was—I was allergic to the non-steroidal anti-inflammatories, and so any of them that I would take would cause some kind of a very unpleasant neurological side effect, so it was just better to be in pain. So basically, for 30 years—so I just lived in pain, and didn’t tell anybody. You didn’t talk about it. Um, you know, if it was a bad day, you just tried to dance with your partner not touching actually, you know? It’s like you’re s—and don’t say. Don’t s—never tell anybody why you can’t do anything, you know? Um, yeah, it was really horrible, um, pretending, you know—pretending about a lot of things—pretending about being okay, pretending about not being gay, pretending about, you know, that my brain was working normally when it wasn’t. Basically, life was a whole lot about pretending a lot of things, and very painful—physically, psychologically, emotionally painful experience to live that way all the time.</p>
<p>But, yeah, I got, you know—I danced as much as I could, and slowly, slowly over time. Basically, most dancers peak in their late 20s or early 30. It’s like, <em>Mm, yeah. Not until I was in my late-40s</em>, [<em>laughs</em>] you know, and, um, you know, d—did what teaching I could over the years. I mean, I’ve been traveling to Europe for over 20 years and teaching there, um, uh, various places around the United States, Canada, Japan. Uh, we did—a couple years ago, we did a three week tour in Japan—six different teaching events while we were there. It was just amazing—which in and of itself was fascinating because, you know, there’s a large community of dancers in Japan, and they knew of me and they—they would—when they would come to the United States, there[sic] was[sic] always be at the events that I was at, um, and they brought people over all the time to teach, and I asked—was a big, big international convention that I was teaching at—there was a huge group of Japanese there, and I got invited to the room party with the Japanese—was the only white person at this party, and, um, so I asked, you know—it’s like, you know, “When will I get invited to Japan?” And this—there was this discussion. This rapid discussion in Japanese, and the woman who spoke English best took me into the—the bathroom in the connected hotel rooms and closed the door and said to me, “We cannot invite you.” I was like, “Well, why?” And she goes, “Because whoever invites you would have to accept your shame.” I was like, “Oh.”</p>
<p>So when I got contacted a couple years ago about coming over, there was an American woman living in Japan—I didn’t know her history, but she was an American woman living in Japan with the dancing—and so I wrote to her and said, “I’d love to come, but, you know, you need to know,” and she said to me, you know, “It’s not how it is now.” Things changed. Things changed because finally, the Japanese government had to acknowledge that there were people in Japan dying of AIDS,[3] and so everything changed when they acknowledged that—that these are Japanese people; therefore, they’re Japanese, and the laws changed, and the way that people behaved changed, and now it was just not a problem, and this was like, you know, social change on this huge scale in a couple of years, you know? Things that we have been fighting for in this country for 20 or 30 years and still don’t have—that they could achieve because, as a society, it’s more important that you’re Japanese than it is that you’re gay, you know? So she arranged this trip, we went, we had this amazing time, and it didn’t matter at all, you know? It didn’t matter at all. It matters more here than it does there. Um, you know, I mean I’m—and I still—I love dancing. Although at this point, I’m probably done. I don’t have a partner anymore.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>And if I can’t dance on a regular basis then I lose the ability to dance, which anybody would. Any skill that you’ve developed, if you don’t use it, you lose it. It’s, you know—especially physical skills, but in my case, it’s not just that. Dancing’s what’s kept me well. Um, if I don’t move, I can’t move, and I’ve tried other things. I’ve, you know, gone to gyms, I’ve done swimming, I’ve done all kinds of things. The only thing that’s been really effective is the dancing that I do, and so basically, you know, 47 years of dancing and I don’t have a partner. If I don’t have a partner, I can’t dance. If I can’t dance, I don’t know how long it is that I can walk. That’s the equation. I mean, you know, we talked—I—walking over here from the parking garage was an ordeal, and that’s been, you know—it’s four—four months that I haven’t danced regularly. Going to Germany and having to dance all day, every day, you know? It’s like the first day was just horrible, and after that it was like, <em>Oh, dancing. My body is happy.</em></p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>“It’s fine.” Yeah, so I get distracted easily. It’s okay [<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>Oh [<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>] I’m chatty.</p>
<strong>Cravero<br /></strong>Um, I was gonna—I have a question following up on that—is, um, what kind of—did you face any sort of challenges, um, early on, um, in a same-sex partner dance organization? Like what did you…
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>Oh, you were—asked about NASSPDA.[4] That was not the first.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>Mmhmm.</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>Um, the first organization kind of disappeared. It[?] was the United States same-sex dance, uh, organization that I was one of the founders of. I was also a—a—an honorary founding member of the European same-sex dance organization,[5] and then, at the same time that those two were formed, there was a world organization that was formed that I was on the committee that help form it, write the bylaws, was an officer of, and then there was a dispute about, you know: was that the right way to do this? Did it happen too fast? All that. So that organization shut down. The North American one disappeared, and a couple years later, the, um—or the U.S. one disappeared. Then the—they decided to do—try again, and we created the North American Same-Sex Partner Dance Association—NASSPDA—and I was, again, one of the founders, uh—original co—co-president with a woman, um, Barbara Zoloth, was one—one of my students for many years, and, um, you know, then—actually, I was the first honorary member of the organization when I went off the board. They voted me in, and, uh, you know—so I—I’ve been involved in the history of same-sex dancing in the United States since essentially its beginning.</p>
<p>Um, I ran the first, uh—well, not the first. The first same-sex dance competition was a long time ago in New York—the first one we know of—but it was a one-time thing, and then nothing happened for years and years, but I put one together with, uh, my partner that[sic] I went to the Gay Games in 1998 with—Tom Slater—and a woman—a straight woman that[sic] was helping us—Ava Kaye—and, um, then the three of us decided this was important, and we put together, um, it was—I think it was “March Madness”—might have been the first one. It was either “March Madness” or “April Follies,” and then, the next one, you know—we did series of them that—that I ran with the two of them for many years, starting around 2000—2001—and then, when I moved away, I ran the next year remotely, you know, went back for it, but it was too much. So I turned it over to this organization—a non-profit in the [San Francisco] Bay area that has run it ever since, and so it’s the longest-running same-sex, uh, dance competition in North America, and longer than many of the ones in Europe, um, and, uh, so there’s the—you know, very small community of people involved in that in this country. We don’t have a history of partner dancing in this country in the way they do in Europe and other places in the world, but there are people that are[sic] really love it. It’s this wonderful thing to do. It’s social, it’s engaging, it challenges the mind and the body, um, it’s great exercise in a gentle way, um, and it’s fun. It’s just a tremendous amount of fun.</p>
<p>Um, competing in the same-sex world is so different than the mainstream world. The mainstream world is very cutthroat, and the same-sex world is, you know, the—the—the people who’ve been to mainstream competition that come to one of the same-sex events is like, “What? It’s like, “You s—you act like you like each other. You know, this isn’t like a competition. It’s like a party. It’s a celebration,” and that’s exactly what it feels like. We are celebrating something that we can’t have. I mean there were rules against same-sex couples competing, uh, in regular competitions. Some of that has changed now, but there were rules against it. You weren’t allowed, you know, a—and it’s not just that you, you know, could if you wanted to. Y—you weren’t allowed, and while I wasn’t directly involved in a lot of the politics in the mainstream world to do that, um, I was behind the people who were, you know? I wasn’t—they hated me in the mainstream world of ballroom dancing from day one because I was an out[-of-the-closet] gay man doing ballroom dancing, and there were none. It was like, “Y—you can’t do that.” I got told when I was trying to compete as an amateur, and then as a professional, “Sh—y—you can’t be ‘out.’ You ca—you have to stop talking about this. You can’t bring a boyfriend.” I was like, “Yeah. No, I don’t—I y—I don’t need you to dance. I don’t do this for a living. You can’t make me,” and so—oh, they did not like me [<em>laughs</em>]. I mean I—when I was still trying to be an amateur, there were actually lawsuits filed against me. Try to keep me from dancing—trying to, you know, declare me “not an amateur.” I was—I had a sports lawyer. It was—I mean, I f—finally quit. I was spending about $5,000 a year defending my amateur status with the lawyer. It was like, <em>This is ridiculous.</em> This thing’s already so expensive. I was spending $20-25,000 a year dancing, and on top of that, I’ve got to spend lawyers’ fees? Nobody else has to do this. So I just—I gave up. I let them m—make me go pro, and then, you know, dance in Europe more than the United States, because in Europe nobody knows who I am. They don’t care. Then you get judged on the dancing.</p>
<p>Uh, you know—you know, this thing that I’m passionate about. I just love doing it. I love teaching, I love dancing, you know? The, um—the next world championships for same-sex dancing is gonna be in Miami in August of 2017 at the, uh—the World Outgames, and I won’t be dancing, you know? I’ve—I’ve danced at every Gay Game since 1998. I’m the only one. The Gay Games in 1998 was the first time they had dancing, and my partner and I took third. We danced in Sydney[, Australia], and then, let’s see—it was, uh, Amsterdam[, Netherlands], Sydney[, Australia], I wanna say Chicago[, Illinois], Cologne[, Germany], Cleveland[, Ohio]. The next one’s Paris[, France] in ’18, and, uh—and then the Outgames. We danced in Montreal[, Canada] for the first one. We didn’t go to the next ones, and then, um—and then it’ll be Miami. I don’t have a partner. I don’t get to dance. It’s like a four-hour drive from where I live, and I won’t be dancing. It’s just so miserable. I don’t have a partner, and it’s something—you can’t do it alone, you know, and it’s really—you know, it’s hard to reflect on—the 47 years is coming to an end, and I don’t have a say in that. It’s just gonna happen.</p>
<strong>Cravero<br /></strong>It’s tough [<em>sighs</em>]. Um, well, let me see. I—I—you already discussed, uh—I saw that you had to—you overcame rheumatoid arthritis, actually, in a profile I was reading online. Um…
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>Oh, was it the one in <em>The Orlando Sentinel</em>?</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>I think it was, yeah.</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>Yeah.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>With a picture of me and the dog.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>That’s right.</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>Yeah.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>Then that was the one.</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>Um, oh…</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>You’ll see.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>I also saw there that you did, um—you were a technical consultant on the rewrite of a DVIDA[6] American Smooth Bronze Syllabus manual. Could…</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>Oh, yeah, DVIDA.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>Could you explain what that is and describe the work you did on that?</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>Um, DVIDA is, uh, oh, Dance Vision—D—Dance Vision International—DVIDA—of—Dance Vision International is the company. DA—o I don’t remember what it stands for. A friend of mine, um, Diane Jarmolow, that I used to coach and have known forever, um, she got—she contacted me about helping with the manual, which was very nice. It was great. It was really lovely to be asked, but I’m very technical. People know that I have this profound very deep understanding of dancing, which happened while I lived in New Mexico. Um, I couldn’t dance much. It was, you know, a 60-mile drive to the closest dance studio, which I would do. There[?] was a—a woman there that did some dancing that I could do, but we were only allowed to dance after the studio closed at night, ‘cause the owner didn’t want people seeing us because we didn’t fit the profile—she was the teacher there, and he was afraid that we would scare people off, you know? It’s like wrong level, wrong kind of dancing for what the studio was about, and so two weeknights a week, I would drive to El Paso[, Texas], be there at 10 o’clock at night, and dance ‘til midnight, and drive home and have to be at work at seven in the morning.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>Um, but, um, while I was there, I met this woman who did ballet, and her husband—fiancé was a PhD kinesiologist at New Mexico State University and he wanted a project, but, you know, at the time—this was when they were doing a lot of things with, you know, analyzing on video tape athletic performance, ‘cause they were looking at, you know, runners on treadmills or swimmers in float tanks or cyclists on stationary bicycles, and seeing, you know, how do you optimize the human body in motion—and he didn’t want to do any of that stuff. So what I did was taught his w—his fiancé how to ballroom dance while he analyzed what we were doing, which, basically, no one had ever done before. No one had ever looked at the—the—the actual human body while it was dancing in this way, and n—not just one body, but two—how two bodies worked together, and he did this analysis of it with—with knowing nothing about dancing. So all of the language of dancing that had been used for 80-90 years to teach it had nothing to do with what he wrote about…</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>Right.</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>Or what he analyzed. So not, “Here’s what somebody has always said about what we’re doing,” but, “This is what the bodies are doing,” and I—so he wrote about that and then I got all that information, and then I had that, so I could write about dancing in—in the dance world, and I wrote papers that would get published about here’s why the feet do what they do, here’s the way that your hold actually works in the frame—you know, not what Patrick Swayze says about it in <em>Dirty Dancing</em>…</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>But what’s actually going on, and that kind of revolutionized the way that dancing was looked at all over the world, and my—my work got spread all over, um, and so because of that I became well-known for this level of technical understanding, and when Diane needed help with the new manuals they were writing, then I got an email. It’s like, “You willing?” It’s like [<em>claps hands</em>] yes.” [<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>“I’ve been waiting for this.”</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>“Fix the stuff that’s wrong.”</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>And so, yeah. I worked on those manuals, and, in fact, my former partner is now working on the new set. He’s up in, uh, Indiana, and he was actually just down here for three days to talk to me about it, ‘cause he’s actually—he’s now the consultant for the next set of stuff that’s being done, um, but yeah, I got a credit in the—in the—in the book and everything, and it’s like “technical consultant,” and it was all this weird stuff. What’s the difference between “brush to” and “brush toward”? What’s the difference between a “brush” and a “collect”? You know, it’s like how to—what’s the difference between “side and slightly forward” and “forward and slightly side,” and it’s like all this really technical stuff, which I’m well-suited to because I love language, you know, from my own issues with language—couldn’t speak for a long time. I love language. I’m a mathematician. So, you know, my—I had a double major at Rollins—mathematics and English—and the dancing is mathematical. The partner dancing is a—is a mathematical construct actually, and then I had all this understanding of what was going on because of this analysis that had been done by this PhD kinesiologist. It’s like, you know—it’s perfect. Love it.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>So cool.</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>Yeah.</p>
<strong>Cravero<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>] So, um, could you tell us, uh—so you joined the, uh, [Orlando] Gay Chorus. You talked a little bit about how you got involved. Um, do you have a favorite production that you did that you can recall?
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>Um, no [<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>It’s—it’s funny. I don’t have a sticky memory for lyrics. Lyrics are so hard for me to learn—that they don’t stick in my brain very well, and, uh, so, you know, people will say, “Oh, we sang this five years ago,” and I’m going, “Really? I was here then. Did we? I don’t remember,” um, but I—I love singing with the chorus. I—I have no interest in doing any of the solo stuff or anything like that. I have zero—I love singing with the chorus, and we do two major concerts a year—the spring and the holiday. Um, I like the spring concerts, but I tend to love the holiday stuff because the music is different, you know? The—the Christmas stuff, the holiday stuff in general—it’s just got this wonderful character, and, uh, learning—learning about music. I mean, I always had to know something about music because of the dancing. I played piano for several years and I—it was the first thing—I didn’t understand at the time, but it hurt. It got to the point where it hurt, and so I quit, and then I was a great believer in <em>I’m young and healthy. Park across campus and walk</em>, and, uh, at Rollins, I was in the math program. The math courses were on the fourth floor of the [Archibald Granville] Bush Science Center. I always took the stairs. I got to the point where I couldn’t climb the stairs. So I didn’t know what was going on, um, but, you know, how did I get involved with the chorus? My partner quit, and I thought, <em>Well, I won’t be dancing. I need something to do that’s interesting, that will challenge my mind, that will be fun, that will get me out in the world</em>, ‘cause I don’t have a regular job. I don’t meet people. I don’t, you know, have people at work. I don’t go out to lunch. I don’t meet people. <em>So I’ll join the chorus. It’ll be fun</em>, and it has been. It’s really lovely, um, but—and I was afraid to sing, ‘cause I hadn’t—I’d been told I didn’t sing well. Well, they didn’t care, you know?</p>
<p>Now, it’s a little different. The—the chorus actually is[sic] improved dramatically from then. Well, you know, the work of Jim Brown—here at UCF—was our director at the time that I joined, and he did great work with the chorus, and now we have a new director, who’s very, very choral. Very, you know—the sound is gonna be the sound kind of thing, and, uh, I don’t know that I could get in now. You know, if I had—if I tried to join now, I doubt that they would take me. Now, I’m okay. I mean I’ve learned, but, you know, between the two of them, I learned a lot. Understanding a music that’s fundamentally different. I love that. I love learning, and then being with the group and doing.</p>
<p>So, you know, particular thing that we sing that I like the best? No, no. I mean, every concert there’s something that I end up really loving, which is usually a surprise. It’s not the thing that I think at first that I’m gonna like, and, you know, something that’s not my favorite, you know—sing it anyway, um, and most of the stuff is like, <em>Oh, this is fun or not</em>, you know? Some things are more fun to sing. Some things—just the sound of them. We did, um, in the last concert before we went to Denver for GALA[7]—one of the things we sang was a song for—“A Prayer for Children,” and it’s an old s—piece. It was written, um, I think about Croatia during the [Croatian] War [of Independence] there, and it’s gorgeous. It’s hard, but it’s so beautiful. Um, when I first joined it was like I had to be surrounded by other people singing my part, and so it was—you know, it’s like, <em>Mm</em>. I can’t stand next to somebody who’s doing anything different than me. I don’t sing that well, and now, normally, where I get placed is standing next to the altos. I sing bass—I sing low bass. So it’s like bass, baritone—we usually sing the same thing, but not always—and then the altos, and so I’m standing next to an alto and the—in the front, and I can hear the rest of the chorus, and it’s so beautiful sometimes. I mean, there’s pieces that we do—the fun stuff I love. It’s great and fun to sing, but the s—I love the things that the sound of them is—it’s amazing to experience, and that’s what I’ve always looked for in the dance music, you know—the sound of the music that I choose for my own choreography is what I’m interested in, but, you know, chorus is great.</p>
<p>It’s—it’s always been interesting to belong, you know? There’s—like any other human endeavor and organization, there’s groups that form and factions, and the politics of it and all that. It’s normal. I’m used to that, but at the heart of it, there’s this thing that we’re doing something that matters as a group. Um, when the chorus was formed 26 years ago, you know, the—the small group of people that did that, they were risking, you know, employment. You know, to be associated with a gay group publicly like that, many of them could have been fired for it. Um, it was a brave thing to do then, um, and y—you know, it’s not like that n—now. We belong. It’s okay in Orlando.</p>
But, you know, this summer’s been kind of insane. We had had our concert, and the—the weekend of the shooting at Pulse there were several things going on. Um, every year right around that time there is the Orange Blossom [Dance] Festival, which is a big country western dance competition, and I always try to go. Um, well, at least one night, go by, dance and visit with people, ‘cause I know a lot of people, and if like—convention friends—you see them once a year, and—‘cause I don’t go to the other stuff, and I’m not a country western dancer, but some of these people do other things. Some of them are involved in the same-sex ballroom, um, and it’s often my birthday, ‘cause my birthday’s June 11<sup>th</sup>, and so, normally what would happen is I would go on the Saturday. It’s the better night. If you go Friday, people don’t stay up that late ‘cause a lot of them have to get up in the morning and compete—dance with their students or dance in some way, and Saturday’s better. A lot of the competition is over. The stuff on Sunday is different, and so, you know, go there, dance all evening. Around midnight or so, get a group of people and we’ll go out. Go someplace where there is music, um, and—music that you can dance to—partner dance to, and that has, in fact, been Pulse in the past, eh, when it matched up. Latin Night—if it was going on—e could go there and dance. That’d be great.
<p>Um, this year, I went on Friday because Saturday night we had one of our, uh, non-outreach—there’s another word—I—I forget this word every time I go to do it, uh—cabaret. We have three cabaret performances a year. One of them’s at the Parliament House. It’s called “Uncut.” It’s the raunchy one, and then we have the—the, um—the h—February Valentine’s Day one. That’s the love one, and then, the—we have the summer one, and this year, it was early in the summer. It’s often later, and, um—and it happened to be on that Saturday, and since it was my birthday weekend—I wasn’t singing. I—it was like, <em>I’ll go</em>, and they had these VIP’s tickets with the reception and the dinner and then the thing, and it’s like, <em>I’ll go to that</em>. So I had the ticket and I went. It was wonderful, had great time, and then it was done and nobody wanted to really go out, and I did not want to drive all the way out to this hotel and see what’s going on because it was late. Any other year, I would have been at the hotel with the dancers and we would have been going to Pulse and arriving about 12:30 and staying until they closed or later—make them stay open and play music. So I would have had, you know, 25-30 people from out of town, who just love to dance, be there with me, and I just, you know—when—<em>I’m tired. I think I’ll go home.</em> That was the decision.</p>
<p>So Sunday morning, I wake up. I look at my phone and I—there’s all these text messages. “Are you okay?” “Are you okay?” And I’m thinking, <em>It was one singer. Yes, I know we sing at The Plaza [Live]</em>, you know, <em>People know we sing at The Plaza. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine</em>, and then I get into the shower and turn on the radio [<em>laughs</em>]. It was like, <em>Turn off the shower, go back to the phone.</em> It’s like, “Oh, my God. I—I had no idea,” you know—listening to the news. I was like, <em>Wow</em>, you know, nut for being tired, I would have been there. I would[?], uh—bringing people.</p>
<p>So I don’t—I’m not a Facebook person really, but I looked to see, and I saw that there was gonna be a special Mass. The, um—there’s a gay, Catholic group in Orlando, and the priest who runs that, uh, used to sing in the chorus with us, and so I take my mother to Mass every Sunday—very Catholic—in Winter Park—St. Margaret Mary [Catholic Church] —very affluent—and, you know—and after Mass and I was waiting to see would[sic] they say anything, and they—and they did. Um, it wasn’t hugely specific, but it was, you know—they acknowledged what had happened, and the violence. Not that it was a gay attack or anything, but—but at least they acknowledged it at Mass, and we left immediately from there and went to the—to the place, which is a bar, you know? St. Matthew’s [Tavern at the Orlando Beer Garden]. Is—it used to be I wanna say Revolution—on Mills[Avenue]…</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>Right.</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>Next to the [Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender Community] Center [of Central Florida]. Alright, that’s where they have Mass, and so we went, and, you know, we s—we went to Mass there, and, you know, at some point in the afternoon, there was a message that came out about—we had been invited to sing at, um, Joy MCC,[8] and I was like, “Absolutely, I’ll be there.” It was massive. When[?] you show up and there’s all these cameras, and they have relegated them to this corner in the back, and there’s[sic] way too many people, and there’s some seating reserved in the front for the chorus, and there’s not enough. There’s so many of us that showed up, and I felt terrible. I had to sit, ‘cause I—I couldn’t stand. My hip hurt, my knee hurt. I couldn’t—I couldn’t stand for the whole thing. I had to take a chair away from somebody else, you know, but—and then, it came time to sing. So we lined up in the front and, um, we had “True Colors” and, um, “You’ll Never Walk Alone,” and we sang, and, um, by the time I got home, you know, I looked at Facebook and there was a video that had been posted. It was CBS News, and the CBS newsman thought he was so clever. He had gotten the camera spot that was right in the center aisle, and so when we went to do “True Colors,” of course, that’s where the conductor stood, and right in front of him was the soloist, Caitlyn[sp], and so he had a completely blocked view [<em>laughs</em>] of the soloist. He couldn’t get her face—couldn’t get her face, but there’s the camera and there am I.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>And out of this like two and a half minute video, about 60 seconds of it is on my face, and this got posted on Facebook, and re-p—tagged, and posted and posted, and by the time I got home, I had messaged from 11 countries, and it was overwhelming. I mean, you know—we didn’t know a lot yet. We didn’t even know really how many people were dead yet. I didn’t know whether or not I knew anybody. I did—nobody well, no close friends, but it’s a small community. You know—you don’t know what to do. You know what there was to do? Sing. As it happens, I don’t have a day job. So when we get asked to go and sing and—I can say, “Yes.” I can show up at one o’clock at UCF across town for something, or drive out to the [Orange County] Convention Center at crack of dawn and not worry about being late to work, or—I could show up. That’s what I could do, and it was fascinating to see. </p>
<p>We had the Sunday night there and then Monday night at Dr. Phillips [Center for the Performing Arts] on the lawn, which was not supposed to be what it was, but turned into this thing, and—and it just started happening, and we had GALA [Choruses Festival] coming. We knew—and that was gonna change. Everything was gonna change. So we got invited to the—to sing at the formal thing at Dr. Phillips on the 28<sup>th</sup>.[9] I was flying out. I was going early. I have an ex-boyfriend that lives in Denver[, Colorado], and four years ago, I got to visit with him. This year, I was going to do the same. Go early, spend some time with him, meet the husband—you know, of 11 years that I had never met, um—and so I wasn’t—I wasn’t at the first concert at Dr. Phillips inside, um, and I had a few days. I mean, there had been so many things. I think Carol said that between June 20<sup>th</sup>—the 12<sup>th</sup> and the 28<sup>th</sup>, there were 20 outreach things that we did, and I lost count how many I did. You know, some of them were just the ensemble things and s—one or two people, but—but, you know, 20 things that the chorus was involved in, and I had like at least nine that I did in those few days, and I got to Denver, and I had time away from all of it, you know? It was no longer in the news every day, and not what everybody’s talking about. Just time—and, uh, people talk about processing. It was like, <em>Oh, this is what that means.</em> Time to really think—to—to stop and feel, and then GALA would come, and I knew—I knew what it was gonna be like. I mean, GALA’s crazy anyway, and it was gonna be different. We were gonna, you know—kind of like, if you’re gonna be a part of this, you accept an obligation about certain things.</p>
I’m used to—I’m used to being a public figure. Mm—I’m a—I’m well-known in the world of dancing. In the world of same-sex dancing, I’m the grandfather. I’m known. Um, I was well-known in my work in California. I mean, we didn’t talk about it, but I’ve—I’ve done things that people don’t understand, you know? I worked on—when you type on the computer and it offers you the corrected spelling[10] or look ahead,[11] I developed that for the very first system that ever had it—was the—the satellite control system that I did for NASA in the [19]80s. That didn’t become available for a very, very long time. I developed that. The very first clickable interface to purchase—“online shopping” is what we call it now—I developed that. The—the idea that you can get credit by filling out an online form, that was revolutionary. I did that. I designed that. Um, then when you go to an ATM[12] and you put in your money or your check, and it just reads it and tells you—instead of putting that in an envelope and writing on the envelope, and a person has to open it and count it. I did that—not—not for ATMs. Didn’t fit in an ATM when I did it.
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>But that technology was something I developed. That’s what I worked on. I’ve done all these things with computers that have transformed the world as we know it, and that are now a part of everybody’s existence in the Western world, and how we just interact all the time, and my name is not on any of it. I have no patents. I’m not famous for any of it, but the people who were there, they all knew, you know? I walked into a room of computer nerds in the Bay area. Everybody knew who I was. I was the guy that had won a congressional award for software. There wasn’t anybody else that had done that and never has been, you know? I was the guy that walked up to Steve Jobs and told him he was wrong.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>] He was not happy with me. Um, and I—I know what it’s like to be public, and what the chorus was facing was—we were gonna be the face of Orlando—the face of Pulse at this huge thing. When somebody comes walking up and they have to say something to you, or they have to express how they feel, the obligation is listen. Let them. Let them feel what they feel. Let them share what they have to say. Because at that point, it’s no longer about us. People need the space to be able to express, to—to grieve, to process, and we were gonna be their outlet for doing that.<strong><br /></strong></p>
<p>James [A. Rode] was not exactly the kind of director that was used to talking a lot, especially in a performance. The first time he was involved with a performance of the chorus, we sang. He probably said six words to the audience. Not his thing. We were in the waiting area backstage and he spoke to us. We had this set of songs, carefully chosen—changed from what it was supposed to be. I mean, we had—our—our set for GALA was celebratory when we started. Had to change—the message had to change, and some of the music was not music that people wanted to necessarily be singing, um, but it told a story, and he talked to us. “We have an obligation. Find a connection to that music. Relay the message that we’re bringing. It’s hard,” you know, “There’s suffering, there’s pain, and there’s hope. It’s up to us. Create hope, create love.” Like it was beautiful.</p>
<p>So we all walk onstage and we start to sing, as we [inaudible] the ovation, and, you know, you just have to stand there and take it. I used to teach people, “You just gotta stand there and take it.” I made my staff learn to be acknowledged. It’s not easy holding up. It’s not easy, and what did we do? Well, we have to live in Orlando and sing [<em>sniffles</em>]. [inaudible] cause is[?] [inaudible], and then, James read his statement to the audience. None of us had a clue what it said, and then—I mean—oh, God. The man’s eloquent, you know? He’s a schoolteacher, he’s educated, he knows how to write. It was good. It was devastating. It was like—and then, “Let’s sing.” It was like, <em>Oh, no. You’ve gotta be kidding.</em> It’s like—like—I—but, you know, at that point, it didn’t matter. We could’ve stood there and flapped our arms like birds and nobody would’ve cared, and so—but we tried. I mean, by the second verse—it was “You’ll Never Walk Alone”—by the second verse, we—we could maybe sort of sing, and the walkout into that crowd of people.</p>
<p>I remember being in Washington, D.C., you know, mid-[19]90s in like the second March on Washington [for Lesbian, Gay, and Bi Equal Rights and Liberation]. Being on the subway when I lived in the Bay area—you know, one of gay centrals—it’s like, “No.” You know when you ride on BART,[13] you’re not safe. Doesn’t matter that it’s San Francisco[, California], you know? You—y—y—there’s a way of being circumspect, and I’m—I spent my whole childhood being abused because I was different. I didn’t understand that “different” meant “gay,” but they did. I went[?], you know—I—it was a normal part of my experience to be physically attacked on a regular basis. Thrown into lockers, you know, punched and hit—and that was just normal, and n—there was[sic] no adults who really cared. My mother asked me the other day it was like, “Where—wa—was I affectionate as a mother?” And I said, “Not to me,” And she was shocked—just shocked. It’s like, “I’m the wrong one to ask.” I didn’t let anyone touch me. From—from the day—first day of first grade—new school, you know, didn’t know anybody, new city—and the first thing that happened to me was to be attacked. Yeah, I didn’t let people touch me. Dancing was my way of touch. Other than that, no one touched me, you know? Not hug people, barely would shake hands. Not allowed to touch, and you walk out to this—wanting to hug you. I’m not good at hugging. You have to let people, and I had scheduled my flights that I would actually not stay to the very end. I was so grateful. I couldn’t take it anymore [<em>sniffs</em>].</p>
<p>At GALA, they have “coffee concerts” in the morning. They, um—a longer time slot to do something with. A very small, Canadian group had one of ‘em. It was very crowded. I managed to get a seat. It was marvelous. It was funny. Almost every one of the choruses added something in to acknowledge. you know, It was very—uh, um, I don’t want to seem callous, but it was like, you know, one more—“Thanks,” you know, [<em>laughs</em>] but—and the Canadians change theirs—program too a little bit, but what was fascinating to me was they had this woman in a hijab singing with them [<em>sniffs</em>]. She was fascinating. Soaring soprano voice, phenomenally animated—just, you know, capture everyone’s eye when she was onstage, and they—they sang a song in, um, not Farsi, but, um, Arabic, because of her, and, you know, it’s normal, you know? People are leaving the stage and you line the hallways and everybody comes in. Everybody [inaudible]. So I just waited. I waited. I waited.</p>
<p>We had—we had, uh, you know—people had ribbons that we had made and stickers and the Pulse logos and there was like [inaudible], and I wanted to talk to this woman, and everybody wanted to talk to this woman. She had friends there—all this—and I waited, and finally. Finally, there was a camera crew following her around, and I just waited until she was kind of done and all settled down, and she saw me in the shirt—the shirt, and she looked at me and I looked at her, and I put out my hand and it had one of the Pulse stickers in it, and I said to her, “I want you to have this,” and it was extraordinary. Here’s this woman, who turns out isn’t a woman. She’s—she’s a transsexual in process, who is a convert to Islam, who decided to be Orthodox, found an organization in Canada that would accept her for who she is, you know? Coming to America to a major city after a shooting that’s related to, you know, an Islamic fundamentalist supposedly—not really, but that’s the perception—and as we stood there, we talked—I don’t know—20 minutes. It was amazing, and, you know, the stories that she had to tell. Just m—this is—this is what bravery looks like. I was like, “Let’s get the picture,” you know? I don’t do pictures. I always forget, but I have my picture with her. You know, put it on Facebook. It’s mine.</p>
There were—there’s been a lot of things. Um, one of the outreaches was at, um, [John F.] Kennedy Space Center, and not many people could go. It was like, workday, Tuesday, all day, have to be able to get on base. Not everybody would pass the minimal clearance requirements, um, but I could go, and, um, I was like, <em>Oh, this’ll be interesting</em>, you know? <em>I wonder in anybody will know my project</em>, and that was—it was—and, you know, when I worked with TRW Space and Defense, being gay was not a good thing, um, and when we show up it’s gonna be this auditorium full of people, who— ‘cause they have an organization now. It’s like NASA has an organization for gay people. Different world, and—and, yes, you know—people know the project that I worked on. It’s still a meaningful thing. People actually, you know, there were people who know my father’s name. It was amazing, and that was hard. That was—for me, that was the hardest one to sing there.
<p>There’s still—I just—we just went Sunday to the movie theater, ‘cause Tony Romero—I don’t know what his last name is—invited the chorus and a few other people, ‘cause Ellen [DeGeneres] gave him a showing of <em>Finding Dory</em>, which I did not see, and it’s like, <em>Okay, this is lovely. Get to go</em>—it’s changing. We get to reflect differently. We get to look to a future. The obligation to create something meaningful is on those who survive, who are after. It’s like funerals aren’t for the dead. They’re for the living. We’re living. We get to choose what this means. We get to choose what happens. I want—I want there to be a difference. I want the world to wake up and know, and I don’t want it to be because it was a gay club in Orlando, but something has to do it.</p>
<p>You know, you take the populations of Great Britain, and Australia, Denmark, and Sweden, and, you know, several other countries combined—is less than the population of the United States, and we have, you know, up 50 times the murder rate that they do. It’s not just because we’re stupid; it’s because they have gun laws that are meaningful and we don’t. You know, Australia had a mass shooting[14] and they changed their world. It was sane. We’re insane. We’re living in an insane society. I want sanity. I’m tired of it costing lives.</p>
<p>I don’t look forward to my birthday next year, ‘cause it’s gonna be, you know, the weekend of the one-year anniversary. I don’t want there to be a one-year anniversary. There will be. I’ll be there. I wish I didn’t have to. It’s so preventable. We have to be responsible for what happens next. I have to be responsible for what happens next.</p>
<strong>Cravero<br /></strong>[<em>clears throat</em>]. Well, I guess, what sort of, uh—what would you hope the long-term consequences will be for the Orlando gay community, and really just for the city—the larger city or the—just maybe even society from this?
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>You know, [<em>sighs</em>] it was interesting. Um, after this, it’s like you’re driving around town and there’s rainbow lights everywhere, and like, you know, it was August. W—my brother was in town for the weekend or the day with this wife. They live in Melbourne[, Florida], and we were gonna go to brunch up in Longwood. Driving and getting off at the exit in I[nterstate] 4, it was raining, and it’s—and below it is the banner—“Orlando Untied”—with the rainbow flag. I was looking at it, it’s like [inaudible]. I took a picture out of the window of the car, and we got to the restaurant and, you know, had this wonderful brunch, and leaving the restaurant, they have one of those chalkboard things, you know—two-sided, and on the front side g—walking in is all the specials, and on the back side was the “Orlando Strong”—“Orlando United,” but, you know, I don’t—where was I? Longwood somewhere. Casselberry, and there is the CVS [Pharmacy] with the electronic sign out front that cycles through its set of stuff. One of which was “Orland Strong.” I was like—I think it would be beautiful if what would just happen is that we could be the “City of Rainbows.” W—let’s, you know, that—somehow [<em>laughs</em>] the gay community got the rainbow flag. It’s like, <em>Wow, that was smart</em> [<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>I don’t know if they were actually planning that far in advance, but it was like, <em>Wow, we co-opted the rainbow</em> [<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>It’s like, <em>That’s awesome</em>. It’s like “The City Beautiful.” It’s like “The City of Rainbows.” Wow, I would—I would love for all of these city buildings and—and banks and everything else just like keep putting up rainbows. They’re beautiful. We can create all the meaning we want from them. They’re beautiful. That would be a wonderful thing to have happen.</p>
Um, I would—I want gun control that makes sense. I don’t know that we’re gonna get it. I don’t know how we’re gonna get it, because we—our society is literally insane, but I would like that to be an outcome.
<p>I would like that, you know—we have this political season that we’re dealing with. We’re dealing with the rise of fundamentalism. People don’t understand what that means. Fundamentalism is a particular thing in philosophy. It’s—it’s not just an extreme point of view—that’s orthodoxy. It’s not just that “I’m right and you’re wrong.” It is: “I’m right, you’re wrong,” and the existence of other ideas, other beliefs cannot be tolerated, and must be suppressed or eliminated by whatever means necessary. That’s fundamentalism. We’ve seen it in religions—not just Islam. I mean, you know, American Christianity is full of its fundamentalism. “You will believe the way that I say it’s supposed to be or”—and when, you—political fundamentalism—“I’ll get what I want in this bill or this bill will never happen.” There is no such thing as compromise in fundamentalism. Nationalism is a form of fundamentalism. Brexit is fundamentalism. The rise of these nationalistic parties in Europe—that’s fundamentalism. You know, even the idea that the news doesn’t tell us the facts. They tell us how we’re supposed to feel about what happens. No, you don’t get to tell me how to feel, but somehow that’s become part of news. No, but that’s representive[sic] of fundamentalism. It’s, “You don’t get to have your opinion.” There is “the opinion” and that’s it.</p>
<p>As long as that’s true, we’re not gonna see gun control. We’re not gonna see a society where it’s truly safe to be gay. We’ve made huge progress, but that doesn’t change the way that people think, or believe—believe is worse. Belief takes no foundation. There’s—doesn’t have to be proved, and anything that stands in the way of it can be discounted.</p>
<p>We sing, you know—you know, we talk about the—what is our purpose? We’re gonna change hearts and minds from musical excellence. The opportunity that’s been presented to the Orlando Gay Chorus because of this horrific thing is phenomenal. We get an audience that we would never have had, and we get to stand up, and we get to sing, and we get to do it as a gay group, and people get to hear good music, good singing, and it has a message, and we’re gay. I—you know, I talked to the leadership in the chorus and said, “Don’t be afraid. It’s—you’re not—there’s nothing wrong—there’s nothing wrong with capitalizing on this moment.” We’ve said for a long time that we want to stand up and mean something. The opportunity’s been handed to us. The mistake would be to not take it. Say, “Yes.” Do these things. Put the message out there, and do it for the right reasons.</p>
<p>I said to Tony the other day—the business manager—“You know, there are a lot of survivors in a lot of ways. Most of them can’t—can’t stand up and talk to the world. It’s not a part of who they are,” but he can, and I remember eighth grade. There was this thing happening, you know—one of the kids in school—and I went home and I complained to my mother about it, and she said, “Who did you talk to?” I was like, “No one. Not me,” You know, and she’s, “Well, you know? You should.” I was like, “Why?” It’s like, “Well, because you can.” So the next day, I marched myself into the principal’s office and complained on behalf of somebody who couldn’t. Those who can need to. Tony can stand up and talk to the world about his experience, and maybe change the world’s thinking—little bit by little bit by doing that. he should. He’s not opportunistic. He has a message that needs to be heard, and he’s capable of delivering it, and he can do that on behalf of victims everywhere. He should. The chorus has an opportunity. We should. We can. It’s not opportunistic. Yes, does it move our agenda forward—the agenda we’ve had f—long before this happened? Absolutely, but it’s still the right thing to do, and it’s for the right reasons, and that’s what we should do. We should keep saying “yes” to the opportunities that arise, and over time—it’s already happening—that they’re—they’re not about that anymore. We got to sing with the Second Harvest Food Bank [of Central Florida], because I go to their dinners, and I know the organizer there, and she likes me.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>And after this happened, she said to me, “You sing with the Gay Chorus.” I was like, “Yes, I do.” “I wanna talk to you about it.” I was like, “Not the right one to talk to, but, boy, can I get you in touch with the person who is,” and we got to do this amazing event for an audience who we would otherwise never touch. Changed the perception of a lot of things.</p>
<p>We got to sing the national anthem[15] at the First Responders’ Breakfast. This is not a group of people who are gonna just suddenly say, “Oh, gosh. We need to have the Orlando Gay Chorus come and sing.” We’re gonna sing for the AFL-CIO.[16] It’s like Jimmy Hoffa’s[17] union.[18]</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>We’re gonna sing for them. The gay chorus in Orlando is gonna sing for Jimmy Hoffa’s union.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>That was not gonna happen before, and now, it is. So, you know, what’s gonna come of this? I hope that. I hope lots of things like that. I hope a dialogue, in music for us, that lets people have a different experience of what “gay” means, and then, maybe the world really can change.</p>
<strong>Cravero<br /></strong>Thank you so much for sharing that with us today, Richard. I really appreciate it. Is there anything else you’d like to add? I mean I—that was a great—that was a great place to end, I think.
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>No, you don’t—you don’t want to get me started on Lucy.[19] It’s okay.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>] Read the blog.[20]</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>We can always do a second interview.</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>Read—read the blog on Lucy.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>Did you find my blog?</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>I did.</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>Yeah.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>I did.</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>Yeah.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>Well, that’s an interview for another time.</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>Oh, yeah.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>[<em>laughs</em>].</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>This—thank you. You know, it’s like—this’ll go into an archive, and—and who knows? Maybe some researcher a hundred years from now will look at it, but probably, other than that, nothing.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>Aw.</p>
<p><strong>Lamberty<br /></strong>That’s okay.</p>
<p><strong>Cravero<br /></strong>It’s fantastic. Well, this is, uh—this has been Geoffrey Cravero with Richard Lamberty in the conference room of the Center for Digital Humanities and Research at UCF in Orlando, Florida, on Tuesday, October 11<sup>th</sup>, 2016.</p>
<br /><div>
<div>
<p>[1] University of Central Florida.</p>
</div>
<div>
<p>[2] National Aeronautics and Space Administration.</p>
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<p>[3] Acquired immune deficiency syndrome.</p>
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<p>[4] North American Same-Sex Partner Dance Association.</p>
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<p>[5] European Same-Sex Dancing Association (ESSDA).</p>
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<p>[6] Dance Vision International Dancers Association.</p>
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<p>[7] Gay and Lesbian Association of Choruses.</p>
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<p>[8] Joy Metropolitan Community Church.</p>
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<p>[9] Of June.</p>
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<p>[10] Spell check.</p>
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<p>[11] Typeahead.</p>
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<p>[12] Automatic teller machine.</p>
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<p>[13] Bay Area Rapid Transit.</p>
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<p>[14] Port Arthur massacre.</p>
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<p>[15] The Star-Spangled Banner.</p>
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<p>[16] American Federation of Labor and Congress of Industrial Organizations.</p>
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<p>[17] Born James Riddle Hoffa.</p>
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<p>[18] Correction: Jimmy Hoffa was the president of the International Brotherhood of Teamsters (IBT).</p>
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<p>[19] Lamberty’s now-deceased dog.</p>
</div>
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<p>[20] http://rexl.org/.</p>
</div>
</div>
2016 Orlando nightclub shooting
A Prayer for Children
acquired immune deficiency syndrome
AFL-CIO
AIDS
American Federation of Labor and Congress of Industrial Organizations
April Follies
ATM machines
automated teller machine
Ava Kaye
ballroom dancers
ballroom dancing
Barbara Zoloth
BART
Bay Area Rapid Transit
bullying
cash machines
Casselberry
Catholicism
Catholics
CBS News
Center for Humanities and Digital Research
CHDR
Christian fundamentalism
Christianity
coffee concerts
Colonial Plaza Mall
Croatian War of Independence
dance instructors
Dance Vision International Dancers Association
dancers
defense
Denver
Diane Jarmolow
Dr. Phillips Center for the Performing Arts
DVIDA American Smooth Bronze Syllabus manual
El Paso
Ellen DeGeneres
ESSDA
European Same-Sex Dancing Association
Facebook
Finding Dory
fundamentalism
fundraisers
GALA Choruses Festival
Gay and Lesbian Association of Choruses
Gay Games
Geoffrey Cravero
GLBT
GLBT Community Center of Central Florida
gun control
gun regulations
gun violence
Harris Corporation
hate crimes
hijab
HIV
hoedowns
homophobia
homosexuality
human immunodeficiency virus infection
James A. Rode
Japan
Jim Brown
John F. Kennedy Space Center
Joy MCC
Joy Metropolitan Community Church
Kennedy Space Center Vigil
kinesiology
KSC
Latin Night
LGBT
LGBT Center of Central Florida
LGBTIQ
LGBTQ
Lockheed Martin
Longwood
March Madness
March on Washington for Lesbian, Gay, and Bi Equal Rights and Liberation
Martin Marietta Corporation
mass shootings
NASA
NASSPDA
National Aeronautics and Space Administration
New Mexico
North American Same-Sex Partner Dance Association
OGC
online credits
online shopping
Orange Blossom Dance Festival
Orange County Convention Center
orlando
Orlando Cloggers
Orlando Gay Chorus
Orlando Strong
Orlando United
Orthodox Muslims
outreach events
Parliament House
Port Arthur massacre
Pulse
Pulse massacre
Pulse nightclub
Pulse nightclub shooting
Pulse tributes
RA
rainbow flags
religious fundamentalism
rheumatoid arthritis
Rollins College
round dancing
same-sex
San Francisco
Second Harvest Food Bank of Central Florida
space
spell check
square dancers
square dancing
St. Margaret Mary Catholic Church
St. Matthew’s Tavern at the Orlando Beer Garden
Steve Jobs
terrorism
terrorist attacks
terrorists
The Center
The Plaza Live
Tom Slater
transgender
True Colors
TRW Space and Defense Park
TRW, Inc. Space and Defense
typeahead
UCF
Uncut
University of Central Florida
vigils
World Outgames
You'll Never Walk Alone
Yugoslav Wars