THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, June 30, 1996 TAG: 9606300047
SECTION: FRONT PAGE: A1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY STEVE STONE, STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: VIRGINIA BEACH LENGTH: 171 lines
He's giving up the ship, but not the battle.
After more than three years of legal maneuvering, Navy Lt. j.g. Richard ``Dirk'' Selland - one of a small cadre of service members fighting for the Pentagon's acceptance of gays in the military - ends his naval career today.
Selland will trade in his uniform for a book bag and a class schedule as he enters law school at the University of Baltimore this fall. But he told colleagues at a small luncheon in his honor Thursday that he'll press on with his legal challenge.
``This is a journey that is continuing,'' he promised. ``I'm definitely not going to walk away.''
``I've been able to stay in for 3 1/2 years, and that's been a success in itself,'' Selland, 27, of Virginia Beach, said Saturday.
Unlike others who also have challenged the policy and been relegated to menial duties, Selland feels the Navy generally has been fair with him.
Although quickly relieved as supply officer aboard a nuclear attack submarine when he first revealed he was gay, his shore duties since have included challenging assignments and responsibilities.
For two years, even as his legal battle wore on, Selland served as director of procurement at the Atlantic Fleet Industrial Supply Center, supervising a staff of 81.
In return, Selland said, he has worked harder than ever to prove his ability and make the point that gays can serve openly and well.
``My service really eats at the core of the anti-gay policy that says unit cohesion would suffer and morale would deteriorate,'' Selland said. ``The Navy gave me a lot of responsibility, and I was up to it. I look back, and I don't have any regrets.''
Still, he admits he had no idea how much his life would be changed by a conversation with his commanding officer on board the nuclear attack submarine Hammerhead back in January 1993.
For gays and lesbians in the military, it was an exciting time, thanks to the promise of one man: Bill Clinton.
In his campaign - actively supported by gays and lesbians - Clinton had pledged, pure and simple, that he would lift the longstanding ban on homosexuals serving in the armed forces.
There was barely a hint of the firestorm to come over the issue, however, as Clinton took the oath of office in January 1993. From press reports, it seemed likely that Clinton would sign an executive order within days of taking office.
The day after the inauguration, Selland - the Hammerhead's supply officer - decided to tell his commander he was gay.
Selland believed then and believes now that many of his fellow officers already suspected he was gay. Many had joked about it openly - some good-naturedly, some with more of an edge. It was because of the more pointed comments, Selland said, that he stepped forward, hoping the skipper would say a word or two to ease the situation.
Instead, within hours, Selland found himself taking a lonely, late-night walk down the pier. He had been ordered off the boat with no time to say goodbye to anyone.
``I still spend a lot of hours reflecting back on that one evening, that quiet walk down the pier and that long ride back to Virginia Beach,'' he said Saturday. ``I asked myself then, `What have I done?' Minutes before, I was a submariner with a promising career as an officer in the most powerful maritime force on earth, and the next I am being booted out for simply acknowledging who I was.''
To make matters worse, Clinton never kept his promise. Instead, after months of political wrangling, the Pentagon introduced a new ``don't ask, don't tell'' policy. Homosexuals could serve, so long as they kept their orientation secret and did not engage in sex.
In Selland, however, the Navy found a gay sailor who would not go quietly. He launched a legal challenge to the anti-gay policy.
Selland's fight seesawed over the years, but he never really suspected his service days were numbered until this past Halloween.
In September, Selland was optimistic. His attorneys had prepared for a hearing before Senior U.S. District Judge Joseph H. Young of Baltimore. They had lined up numerous witnesses and were ready to argue vigorously that the Pentagon's policy violated constitutional protections of free speech and due process.
``We were really confident,'' Selland said. ``We thought we had a really strong case.'' A week before the arguments were to be heard, however, the judge canceled the session.
A few days later, on Oct. 31, Young issued a ruling upholding the ``don't ask, don't tell'' policy.
``It was like receiving a bad apple when you are out trick-or-treating,'' Selland said. ``It was my first real loss.''
The judge did issue a stay allowing Selland to remain in the Navy until another case challenging the ``don't ask, don't tell'' policy was resolved. But the Navy removed Selland from his job as director of procurement.
He spent the next several months working on a new Navy system for making small purchases that is intended to significantly reduce paperwork, costs and delays.
It was important work, but Selland realized that the future was not bright, even if he was able to stay in the Navy for years. Denied promotion because he is gay, he decided it was time to move on. Trouble was, he didn't want to surrender.
Selland's lawyers hammered out an agreement with the Justice Department: He would be separated from the service with an honorable discharge and some benefits, but he also would be able to continue his court fight.
``The government was going to ask the judge to lift the stay anyway if we didn't come to an agreement,'' Selland said. ``I thought this was the best option.''
Navy officialdom got in one last jab, however. Selland's DD214 - the paperwork explaining his separation - makes clear the reason for his departure: Homosexuality.
``That's a major disappointment,'' Selland said.
Selland's life is still on track, he said, despite the three-year duel with the Navy.
``My dream has always been to go to law school and be in politics,'' said Selland. In his youth, he served as a congressional page. Later, while in college, he was an intern on Capitol Hill.
He doesn't believe being gay will block him from public service. It certainly won't be a skeleton in his political closet. ``It will be something that I am proud of.''
Selland has both reveled in the spotlight - he's lost count of the number of interviews and speeches he's given - and found the opening up of his life a burden. He was particularly disturbed when his religious convictions were challenged and he found his church dragged into the media glare in 1993.
Generally, however, Selland said, he's been pleasantly surprised at the amount of support he's received.
``I deliberately had my last name on my license plate, and I never had my phone unlisted,'' he said. ``The majority of phone calls I would get after an interview would be positive. And I was called `faggot' only once. Total strangers would come up to me and wish me well.''
Even on duty, Selland found a foundation of quiet support from dozens of fellow workers, military and civilian.
On Thursday, about 30 friends and coworkers gathered at a restaurant across Willoughby Bay from the Norfolk Naval Base to wish Selland well. His 23-year-old companion, Clifton Futch, was welcomed and greeted by many.
The supply center command staff presented him with a framed aerial photograph of the facility, while some coworkers joked him about his habit of munching on the job - and charging anyone who tried to sneak off with his food - by giving him a gift pack of snacks.
As he listened to words of praise and support, Selland could look across the water to the piers in the distance, where aircraft carriers and frigates were at rest.
It was his Navy no more.
Still, only once did tears come to Selland's eyes. ``You have a roar like a lion, but you're mild as a lamb,'' one woman said as she read a tribute she had written. ``You have the courage of a missionary in a foreign land.'' As she finished, she hugged him.
Another woman told him: ``None of us is free until we are all free.''
Selland is as committed as ever to his cause, believing it's important not just for the military, but for the nation.
``We cannot allow the Department of Defense to force silence and celibacy on service members,'' he said. ``If we do, what argument do we have against those who want to do the same to teachers, chaplains, police officers and others whose jobs are sensitive?''
He doesn't know yet if the Navy will change, but he does feel he is a better person.
``I am stronger,'' he said. ``I am more focused on doing what is principled and right and not politically correct. I've been able to handle a lot of stress.''
In his first interview several months after he came out, Selland said he had taken to carrying around a tattered piece of paper bearing a quote from the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. The words gave him strength, he said.
He no longer needs the note; the words are committed to memory: ``There comes a time when one must take a position that is neither safe, nor politic, nor popular. But he must take it because conscience tells him that it is right.'' ILLUSTRATION: Color photo
Richard ``Dirk'' Selland, the first Norfolk-based sailor to file
suit over the ``don't ask, don't tell'' policy for gays.
Photo
ASSOCIATED PRESS
Dirk Selland, left - with his partner, Clifton Futch, - says he'll
continue to fight the military's policy on homosexuals. ``This is a
journey that is continuing,'' Selland said. ``I'm definitely not
going to walk away.''
KEYWORDS: GAYS IN THE MILITARY U.S. NAVY
HOMOSEXUALS by CNB