Waving your flag yet? Robert Blake has already planted his
2015-06-22
For Pride Month, Johnson Space Center is honoring a few employees whose character, courage and commitment have helped shape them into the people they are today.
If Robert Blake is apologizing for who he is, please check his pulse.
Blake, a NASA property disposal officer, is also a foster dad to a 9-month-old baby girl, was a founding member of the Out and Allied at JSC Employee Resource Group and is most assuredly “out” of whatever figurative closet people might want to stick him into.
“I just was a rogue,” Blake said. “My parents raised me to be different. They said, ‘Don’t be like everybody else. Be yourself.’ And they had no idea that that difference was going to be my homosexuality.”
Having been audacious enough to tell his family, at 9, that he was gay, they didn’t really come to terms with his announcement for many years.
“I was confident enough to stand up for myself and be who I was,” Blake said. “My mother had to really reformat, or try to get a grip on it, and that took her a while, it did.”
The biggest obstacle to their acceptance? Religion.
“It trained me to be able to represent myself as a Christian, but not necessarily the Christian that they are,” Blake noted. “Just because I come from a Christian faith doesn’t mean I believe all the banter around the judgment that some people make, instead of being all about the religious goodness and the love that’s intended. But I believe that the religious argument my parents brought up so subjectively prepared me to be able to argue that point later on.”
Yet even in a culture that used to encourage hiding, embracing policies such as “Don’t ask, don’t tell,” lying about his truth was never something Blake considered. Before managing the boots-on-the-ground activities for the recycling of metals and property at Johnson Space Center, Blake was an openly gay science teacher, teaching ecology and biology. His passion for being a good steward of the environment segued easily to NASA’s mission, and daily he works to finds proper homes for misfit hardware.
Working at JSC also enabled Blake to pursue his greatest dream—being a father.
“Obviously I can’t biologically have a child and stay true to my belief system, but I still want to be a parent,” Blake said. “And so many of my (gay) friends are parents, and they’re great parents. But they’ve had to basically conform to the society they were raised in to be parents, and I never wanted to do that. I wanted to be able to make my own rules and still have a family. Not be ashamed. Never live a shameful life. It’s a big part of who I am—is to never do anything I’m ashamed of. And if I have to exercise some shame in anything I’m doing, I don’t do it.”
Though he’s fostered a baby girl since birth, he has still not been given consent to officially adopt—and it’s a battle that is ongoing within a prejudiced Texas court system.
Thankfully, JSC has an environment free from those prejudices—at least from all appearances. Blake has helped make it so in his efforts with Out and Allied at JSC. Of the group’s formation, he said, “It wasn’t remarkable, frankly. It seemed like it was so past time for that type of acceptance, so that we could all be outspokenly ourselves without fear of repercussion.”
However, he understands that while he’s never been one to hide, other lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender employees may not feel as comfortable being open.
“I don’t know the militant kind of perspective on ‘Don’t ask, don’t tell,’ or previously to that policy, that you could be fired for it,” Blake said. “But a lot of people here are a product of that environment, so the thing that I would say is most noticeable is people’s apprehension at actually being themselves, or being open or being proud of who they are in a culture that hasn’t always supported that.”
Hopefully, the tide is turning. And the only way it will continue to do so is with visibility and united voices fighting against oppression. Sometimes the most insidious support is the kind that is … quiet.
“I don’t think that it’s the people that hate us that are really a problem,” Blake said. “At least we know where they stand. Or the people that love us. It’s all those people who are afraid to take a stand. The people who are afraid to pick a side, or afraid to support their son. Or afraid to do what really matters in their lives—those are the obstacles. It’s not the problems and it’s not the support, it’s the majority of people that kind of ride that fence, and never really act supportively or act defiantly.”
It’s not just a straight problem, either. As Blake noted, it bleeds into the gay community.
“It isn’t about the gays who are ashamed of themselves, or the gays who are confident in who they are,” Blake said. “It’s all the people in between who are like, ‘Well this isn’t my fight, or I’m not waving a flag …’ At some point, you’ve got to stick that flag in the dirt in front of you somewhere, or no one will ever know you were even here.”
Like, say, on the moon.
Blake, who wants to again travel the world with his little girl affixed to his chest, his heart, within her carrier, can’t comprehend those not willing to make a stand—who won’t fight for what they believe in.
“If you don’t stand by your convictions—if you won’t be who you are, outspokenly—then no one will ever know that that’s the person you were, or that that person deserves an opportunity to sit at the table next to you. I’m a very out and outspoken gay person. I’m definitely carrying the flag, for sure.”
Catherine Ragin Williams
NASA Johnson Space Center
If Robert Blake is apologizing for who he is, please check his pulse.
Blake, a NASA property disposal officer, is also a foster dad to a 9-month-old baby girl, was a founding member of the Out and Allied at JSC Employee Resource Group and is most assuredly “out” of whatever figurative closet people might want to stick him into.
“I just was a rogue,” Blake said. “My parents raised me to be different. They said, ‘Don’t be like everybody else. Be yourself.’ And they had no idea that that difference was going to be my homosexuality.”
Having been audacious enough to tell his family, at 9, that he was gay, they didn’t really come to terms with his announcement for many years.
“I was confident enough to stand up for myself and be who I was,” Blake said. “My mother had to really reformat, or try to get a grip on it, and that took her a while, it did.”
The biggest obstacle to their acceptance? Religion.
“It trained me to be able to represent myself as a Christian, but not necessarily the Christian that they are,” Blake noted. “Just because I come from a Christian faith doesn’t mean I believe all the banter around the judgment that some people make, instead of being all about the religious goodness and the love that’s intended. But I believe that the religious argument my parents brought up so subjectively prepared me to be able to argue that point later on.”
Yet even in a culture that used to encourage hiding, embracing policies such as “Don’t ask, don’t tell,” lying about his truth was never something Blake considered. Before managing the boots-on-the-ground activities for the recycling of metals and property at Johnson Space Center, Blake was an openly gay science teacher, teaching ecology and biology. His passion for being a good steward of the environment segued easily to NASA’s mission, and daily he works to finds proper homes for misfit hardware.
Working at JSC also enabled Blake to pursue his greatest dream—being a father.
“Obviously I can’t biologically have a child and stay true to my belief system, but I still want to be a parent,” Blake said. “And so many of my (gay) friends are parents, and they’re great parents. But they’ve had to basically conform to the society they were raised in to be parents, and I never wanted to do that. I wanted to be able to make my own rules and still have a family. Not be ashamed. Never live a shameful life. It’s a big part of who I am—is to never do anything I’m ashamed of. And if I have to exercise some shame in anything I’m doing, I don’t do it.”
Though he’s fostered a baby girl since birth, he has still not been given consent to officially adopt—and it’s a battle that is ongoing within a prejudiced Texas court system.
Thankfully, JSC has an environment free from those prejudices—at least from all appearances. Blake has helped make it so in his efforts with Out and Allied at JSC. Of the group’s formation, he said, “It wasn’t remarkable, frankly. It seemed like it was so past time for that type of acceptance, so that we could all be outspokenly ourselves without fear of repercussion.”
However, he understands that while he’s never been one to hide, other lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender employees may not feel as comfortable being open.
“I don’t know the militant kind of perspective on ‘Don’t ask, don’t tell,’ or previously to that policy, that you could be fired for it,” Blake said. “But a lot of people here are a product of that environment, so the thing that I would say is most noticeable is people’s apprehension at actually being themselves, or being open or being proud of who they are in a culture that hasn’t always supported that.”
Hopefully, the tide is turning. And the only way it will continue to do so is with visibility and united voices fighting against oppression. Sometimes the most insidious support is the kind that is … quiet.
“I don’t think that it’s the people that hate us that are really a problem,” Blake said. “At least we know where they stand. Or the people that love us. It’s all those people who are afraid to take a stand. The people who are afraid to pick a side, or afraid to support their son. Or afraid to do what really matters in their lives—those are the obstacles. It’s not the problems and it’s not the support, it’s the majority of people that kind of ride that fence, and never really act supportively or act defiantly.”
It’s not just a straight problem, either. As Blake noted, it bleeds into the gay community.
“It isn’t about the gays who are ashamed of themselves, or the gays who are confident in who they are,” Blake said. “It’s all the people in between who are like, ‘Well this isn’t my fight, or I’m not waving a flag …’ At some point, you’ve got to stick that flag in the dirt in front of you somewhere, or no one will ever know you were even here.”
Like, say, on the moon.
Blake, who wants to again travel the world with his little girl affixed to his chest, his heart, within her carrier, can’t comprehend those not willing to make a stand—who won’t fight for what they believe in.
“If you don’t stand by your convictions—if you won’t be who you are, outspokenly—then no one will ever know that that’s the person you were, or that that person deserves an opportunity to sit at the table next to you. I’m a very out and outspoken gay person. I’m definitely carrying the flag, for sure.”
Catherine Ragin Williams
NASA Johnson Space Center