Young, gay and loud

Outspoken Matthew Polzin is poised to lead the next generation of gay youth

By Andrew Kiraly

It was a fairy-tale high school nonromance. Boy meets girl. Boy has crush on girl. Boy doesn't really make a move, though; he isn't exactly sure why. Boy later realizes he's gay. Girl later realizes she's a lesbian. Boy and girl become close friends, eventual roommates.

Premise to a queer comedy? No, it's a snippet from the romantic life of Matthew Polzin. Um, how'd he not know he was gay? The Vo-Tech High School graduate, gay activist and entrepreneur has a simple explanation for his confusion: He didn't know any better. Even he struggles to explain it.

"In high school, I was more physically attracted to men and I knew that, but I didn't associate myself as being gay," he says.

Huh? In this age of supposed tolerance and understanding?

"I didn't know what being gay was," he says.

What? In this era of so-called acceptance and openness?

"I didn't know what gay was in high school," he says. "I was uneducated about the culture. In school, I knew I liked guys, but I didn't know the term 'gay.' I wouldn't have associated myself with the term 'being gay.'"

It's a telling anecdote that shows how ignorance still lurks in the not-so-far corners of our culture, and ignorance is Polzin's No. 1 enemy. Since graduating from Vo-Tech in 2001, Polzin has become a fixture in the gay community and the highly visible face of its youth. There he was at the Laramie Project rally last Wednesday at Las Vegas Academy, sign in hand and slogan on his lips. There he was at Saturday's Las Vegas Pride 2004 festival, manning tables in the Youth Zone. He's spoken at numerous schools, appeared on TV.

Matthew Polzin didn't come out of the closet. He burst out of the closet.

"I kind of came out in a way that I took charge," he says. Frequently teased in high school for being gay, Polzin got the last word by becoming a leader. "In high school, everybody was always, 'Oh, that's so gay' or everyone was always calling me gay, so I became the president of [Future Business Leaders of America]. I took a high-standing point in the school and that way, they weren't picking on me anymore."

A little more than two years later, Polzin was heading up a youth education booth at the 2003 Pride Festival, was president of Alpha Lambda Tau, UNLV's gay fraternity, and was a steering committee member of the Gay, Lesbian and Straight Education Network--all while building his own business doing custom printing and promotions. Indeed, the 20-year-old Polzin might represent the new wave of the gay and lesbian community in Las Vegas, marrying entrepreneurial spirit, youthful verve and an aggressive sense of involvement--and a willingness to be one of the community's biggest critics.

"He's young, energetic and he really gets things done," says Bob Bellis, executive director of the The Center, a support organization for gay and lesbian youth. "There are a lot of retired teachers and retired social workers in [the Gay, Lesbian and Straight Education Network], and they can really use some new blood. Matthew can really communicate with young people."

School gays

With the bright, curt demeanor of a shoe salesman and prone to business mantras like "There's no 'I' in 'team,'" Polzin isn't everyone's hero. More than a few in the gay community think that while his enthusiasm is infectious, Polzin has a tendency to grandstand and sometimes takes more credit than he deserves. But even then, he has some great ideas. For instance, he says for the 2003 Gay Pride festival, he dreamed up the Passport to Pride, a booth that encouraged newly out gays to take a sort of cultural tour.

"It encouraged youth to learn more and experience [the pride festival] in an educational way, while having fun doing it, vs. going there for a 'get drunk, have sex' event," he says. "It got them to go to the HIV/AIDS booth, to the safe sex and safe dating booth, to Street Teens, to the Lambda Business Association, to organizations that would be resources for them in the future. You can't just say, 'Go do this,' because they won't do it on their own."

The Passport system was fashioned like a scavenger hunt. Participants would get a card stamped when they visited different booths; they could then turn in their stamped card for a goodie bag and entry into a drawing for a stereo and a TV. Better yet, Polzin fed the cards into a database to keep tabs on the concerns of gay and lesbian youth. "It wasn't just to educate the youth about the community, but to educate the community about the youth," says Polzin.

Youth has been Polzin's focus ever since, working as one of the local GLSEN chapter's seven board members to foster more tolerant attitudes in local schools. The nationwide organization's strategy: to foster formation of gay-straight alliance groups on high school campuses to develop a sort of on-site, cultural root. Since the Southern Nevada GLSEN chapter formed in 1998--the same year it lent its muscle in the formation the first gay-straight alliance club at Green Valley High School--it's helped along several campus clubs.

But it's not all smooth sailing. GLSEN of Southern Nevada founder and steering committee member Theo Small says many high school administrators balk when students try to form such groups, even resorting to intimidation and stonewalling tactics. Small counts Palo Verde, Clark and, ironically, Vo-Tech among the schools whose administrations have put up roadblocks, pressuring faculty advisers to stay away from clubs, citing obscure school district rules or even would-be club members' own safety.

"We feel that in a couple instances there was intimidation," says Small. "Some of them simply don't want this kind of group in the school." But Small is careful to draw a distinction: GLSEN isn't there to start the groups, just shepherd the process along. "Our main purpose is to build leadership in schools with students. They have to step up to the plate and start it. We'll gladly assist them, but they're in the front lines."

And Polzin's youth and energy have been instrumental in winning a few key battles. After a few rounds of bureaucratic wrestling that even dragged in the ACLU, GLSEN recently convinced Las Vegas High School (not to be confused with Las Vegas Academy) to allow students to form a gay-straight group. Polzin was point man for the conflict. "We went into Las Vegas High School with full guns," Small says, crediting Polzin for some of the progress. "Matthew's very energetic, very motivated and a very good organizer. I'm blown away by what he's done. He's pretty exceptional."

Even longtime figureheads in the gay community have heard of Polzin's exploits. "Considering that the Clark County School District is so far behind the times, you can't even use the word 'condom' yet in the classroom, what's he's done is remarkable," says Rob Schlegel, former publisher of the gay newspaper the Las Vegas Bugle. "The fact that he's openly gay and is able to get in there and talk to kids is terrific."

Polzin's latest laurel: manning a booth at productions of The Laramie Project at Las Vegas Academy, helping to raise more than $5,000 for the AIDS fundraising group Broadway Cares. "He doesn't talk down to us," says LVA senior and The Laramie Project cast member Danielle Harrison. "He can relate to us. He knows where we're coming from." She points out that today's more tolerant atmosphere for gays and lesbians has a flipside: Many older members of the community don't take youth issues seriously. "I think older people in the community sometimes think that younger people are gay and lesbian as part of a fad or a phase, so it's difficult to relate to them. But Matthew, he's awesome."

Broken rainbow

And yet, for all his commitment, Polzin is also one of the gay community's biggest critics. Like many, he says it can be lazy, cliquish and unfocused. "There is so much separation in the gay community," he says, ticking off subcultures that mix as well as drag queens and Log Cabin Republicans. "You have the leathers, then you have the twinkies, then you have the old people...and they really don't want to work together. On the other hand, you have so many people who do so much work and everyone else who just sits back. Nobody wants to get involved."

Why not?

He muses for a moment. "There's a mentality that a lot of gay people have that they're better. 'Oh, I make more money.' A lot of gay people put themselves higher in society than everyone else, so they think it's demeaning of themselves to go and help other people. 'That's not me, I shouldn't have to be doing this.'"

But such ruthless self-examination doesn't necessarily turn off more veteran members of the gay community. Rather, they see it as one of the hallmarks of the next wave of the gay community, one imbued with vigor and a sense of direction--and plenty of role models.

"They're the first generation that doesn't see as much discrimination as before," says Bellis. "Now you see gays who are professionals, politicians, business owners. It wasn't like that 20 years ago. This will be the first generation where it's okay to be gay."