about me

@ Adam Dot 2011

I’m used to pasting in a list of professional achievements for speech introductions or conference programs (if you want a CV, look here, or try the Wikipedia page for somebody named Scott Long); but for this, but let me try something different.

I was born in southwestern Virginia in the U.S., to parents who started as Midwestern liberals (from Ohio, specifically), but moved South at the beck of their professions at the Fifties’ sagging end. (My father was an extension agent at Virginia Tech, my mother an elementary school teacher and principal.)  My childhood happened during the turmoil of desegregation and the civil rights movement. These impinged on me only distantly, through the convex moon of the TV screen, but also through my parents’ quiet reaction. Their moral refusal, especially my mother’s, to submit to the racial and cultural attitudes of the region where they found themselves living was a retrospective example, and gave me a sense of displacement that has lasted ever since. I felt at home on my great aunt’s beautiful, disused, decaying farm in Ohio, where I spent every childhood summer in a tangle of green. I had a home in Virginia, and the society would have welcomed me to belong, except I instinctively sensed myself, and was raised to be, at a slight, dislocating angle (to paraphrase E.M. Forster on Cavafy) to its world.

Most of the work of raising me was done by my mother, Ernestine Long, and her aunt, Leila Wilson. What good I’ve done in this messy life is generally a legacy from them.

I rushed through school hastily for various reasons, graduating from high school at 12, from college at 18. This was much better than going through a Southern school system at the normal age would have been, as a gay kid in the 70s. At least nobody expected me to drug the cheerleaders’ Cokes or play football.  As I departed childhood, three great transitions  happened. My mother died, far too young, when I was seventeen, my great aunt two years later.

In between, I left for graduate study at Harvard. Over the years I came out, made friends, and finished a dissertation on Vladimir Nabokov.   I found had no particular desire to become an English professor in an American university, at least at that juncture. William James, drugged on laughing gas once, called for pen and foolscap and wrote down, with the belief he was committing to paper thoughts of Hegelian profundity: “Harvard medical school; law school; divinity  school, school! SCHOOL! Oh my God, oh God; oh God!” That was about how I felt by the time I staggered up to join (as the President of Harvard tells the new-minted Ph.D.s at every graduation) the ancient and honorable company of scholars.

This raised, however, the question of what else to do.   I also found that I had no discernible qualifications  for any other employment, aside from reading books fast and having a jet-powered typing speed. I thus became an English professor outside America; this seemed the most promising way of putting my residue of skill to use in an unexpected context. I wanted something different . (As William James also scrawled while on laughing gas, “There are no differences but differences of degree between different degrees of difference and no difference.”)

For almost seven years after the revolutions of ’89, I lived in Eastern Europe — for more than four years in Hungary, where I taught literature at the Eötvös Loránd University in Budapest. For two years in the middle, I was a senior Fulbright professor at Babeş-Bolyai University in Cluj, Romania.

In devastated Romania, I started doing human rights work. It happened quite unexpectedly, almost without my knowing that was what it was. Together with  a few Romanian friends, in the weeks after I first moved there I started visiting prisons, documenting and defending people imprisoned under the country’s Ceaușescu-era sodomy law. We had very little idea of human rights law, norms, precedents, or standards; we were, in a sense, making it up as we went along.  We produced some of the first human rights information ever about abuses based on sexual orientation. We were responsible for Amnesty International taking up one of its first gay cases as a prisoner of conscience, and helped bring about Human Rights Watch’s policy change to act against such violations.  We also saw appalling conditions in overpacked, filthy prison cells, and for the first time in my bourgeois life I talked to survivors of torture.  We started a process that, nine years later, in 2001, led to the repeal of the Romanian law.

Midway through Gone with the Wind, Scarlett O’Hara, scrabbling in a barren field, holds up a turnip and swears, “As God is my witness, I’ll never go hungry again.”  I often call my Turnip Moment the time a Romanian official, at a public panel in Bucharest, responded to evidence of arrests under the sodomy law by saying, “I don’t have to listen to such fairy stories.”   Governments routinely claim that rights violations based on sexuality or gender identity or expression simply don’t happen, because such people simply don’t exist. My particular oath, invisible turnip in hand, was that no one would call these fairy stories again. My commitment was to do what justice I could to the survivors and those who didn’t survive — the people whose stories I heard — by making their stories live: documented, proven,  and felt.

I stayed involved with grassroots social movements in Hungary, Bulgaria, and other countries in the region; I visited Albania early in its democratic transition and produced information that helped get its sodomy law scrapped even before a backlash could begin.

I helped found LGBT groups in both Romania and Hungary. In 1997, I finally moved back to the United States, and joined the International Gay and Lesbian Human Rights Commission (IGLHRC), first as advocacy director, later as program director.

This part goes more quickly (see Things I Wrote for the visible spoor).  At IGLHRC, I spent five years lobbying the United Nations on sexual rights issues, together with grassroots LGBT activists from the global South. That work led to U.N. human rights mechanisms agreeing publicly, for the first time ever, to take up lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender people’s concerns.

In 2003, I joined Human Rights Watch, and in the following year I became founding director of the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Rights Program, which I created. During my time there our budget quadrupled, and our staff quintupled.   Our work led to the end of a massive crackdown on gay men in Egypt. I helped develop the Yogyakarta Principles, a groundbreaking summation of how international human rights law protected sexual orientation and gender identity. Our documentation and advocacy supported causes from Honduras to Iraq, from the United States to Cameroon.

I left Human Rights Watch in 2010, for a number of reasons. One was a pulmonary embolism, which served as harbinger and emblem that it was time for another uprooting. Another was that I realized, first slowly and then more rapidly, that while Human Rights Watch drew voraciously and often parasitically on the work of activists around the world, as an institution it was not, and had no interest in, supporting activism. At the moment, I am a visiting fellow at the Human Rights Program at Harvard Law School, where I am trying to write a book, on sexual rights advocacy, and on the transition of the global human rights movement and its leadership from North to South.  My office is a hundred yards from the dorm room where I settled as a scared eighteen-year-old, come to Harvard for graduate school and to the big city, on my own for the first time ever. Things return full circle, yet with a slight shift, a deflection that carries a twinge of Hegelian plangency, or perhaps of laughing gas.

@ Adam Dot 2011

My grandparents, dirt farmers all, never traveled further from their Ohio home than Texas. My parents were the first ever in their families to go to college; my father visited Chile, Indonesia, Russia, and China before he died, and my mother flew to Puerto Rico once. I went to Harvard, and I’ve worked in some forty countries so far. It has been a privileged life, product and exemplar of the last century’s vast changes. It all feels like exponentially more freedom than anything my ancestors were offered, and at the same time, the final grace note is one of displacement.  As I grow older, a farm in Ohio and a remembered skein of green leaves seem an appealing prospect.

All the opinions on these pages (except for the comments, or any guest contributors) are my own, and you shouldn’t blame any of my employers, parents, teachers, landlords, dogs, or lovers for them. The same is true of whatever mistakes turn up. If you find the latter, or disagree with the former, please let me know. (Also let me know if you would like to become my employer, parent, teacher, landlord, dog, or lover. Probably something can be worked out.)

— September 2011

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44 thoughts on “about me

  1. Would love to gauge your interest in guest-posting for the Museum of Sex (blog.museumofsex.com), either part 2 of the “women’s sexuality” series or something else as your current research unfolds.

  2. Would love to gauge your interest in guest-blogging for the Museum of Sex (blog.museumofsex.com), the second post in your “women’s sexuality” series or perhaps something as your current research unfolds.

  3. Hi there,

    I just read an article on discrimination that you posted a while back on your blog: http://paper-bird.net/2012/06/26/resources-for-the-unbelievers-on-aid-conditionality-and-lgbt-rights/

    I thought you might be interested in a workplace infographic we just published, it’s titled ‘Discrimination and Dollars’, check it out: http://complianceandsafety.com/blog/workplace-infographic-discrimination-and-dollars/

    If you like it, feel free to publish it on your site.

    Thanks a lot,

    Matthew Pelletier
    Director of Public Relations
    C&S Safety Training Videos

  4. Political Animation 101: How Our LGBT Film Fights For A Better Future

    Hi Ms. Long!

    My name is Mike Iemma and I am a Pro-LGBT activist and filmmaker. Myself, along with my award-winning team of Boston-based artists and filmmakers, are currently making a Pro-LGBT animated film that carries a big message for LGBT equality. The film, which focuses on an honest and poignant relationship between two young gay men, hopes to aid in the fight to remove the stereotyped and offensive lens through which mainstream media perceives gay life. It is our hope that with animation, an altogether new and daring medium through which to support the cause, we can help to change the world.

    Currently my team and I are raising funds for the film through an online fundraising campaign. The campaign has already received considerable attention, being supported by Margaret Cho, the California-based Courage Campaign, and the notable independent film website Indiereign.com, to name a few. But we still have a long way to go financially, and thus we are reaching out to prominent figures of the LGBT community, like yourself, to spread the world. Do you think this might be something you would be willing to help us with? I have linked you below to our fundraising campaign with a wealth of info on the film. At the bottom of that linked page is a lengthy write-up on the film’s relevance to the LGBT effort.

    You can email me back at: lgbtfilm@yahoo.com if you’d like!

    Thank You!


    Campaign link:

    • Hey Mike Iemma, if you’re soliciting “prominent figures of the LGBT community” for their assistance by name, you should at least make the effort to address them accurately as per their gender.

      • Dear Mr Long, please delete my previous reply, it serves no purpose apart from being snarky, and we can all do with less of that online. Thank you. ps thank you also for your thought-provoking and compelling writings. I will be working my way through your ‘back catalogue’ with great anticipation.

  5. Hi, PaperBird. Loved your recent article on Sex Imperialism. Reposted it on Red Umbrella Brasil (facebook.com/redumbrella99.brasil), our recently-launched microjournal in defense of sex workers. We’ll translate it into Portuguese as soon as time allows it, for our sister page Mundo Invisível (facebook.com/mundoinvisivel). If you are against criminalization, prejudice and stigma, please follow those pages and feel free to post there.

  6. Dear Mr. Long,
    I just tripped over your blog trying to learn more about C-FAM as they have just been listed as a Hate Group by the SPLC.
    When we in Gay Rights (and I am just an individual doing what I can over the internet) talk about standing on the shoulders of giants, we mean you.
    Are you on Twitter? Everything happens on Twitter.
    I am @Str8Grandmother on Twitter, I would love to follow you if you are on twitter.

    If you run into Dr. Nancy Cott in the History Dept please give her my regards.

  7. http://paper-bird.net/2014/06/23/yara-sallam-in-jail-and-the-moral-bankruptcy-of-the-united-states/
    You left this link in a comment on my blog. I almost didn’t read it expecting blah blah rhetoric due to the “moral bankruptcy” part of the title. I suspect there would be more readers if you omitted that little bit of title. It seems an anti-lure. This is just a suggestion. Your writing style flows like poetry closeted by politics. “Their fears run like rainwater into a pool of fear” . A beautiful sentence describing horror. I think we are all confused by every-side committing atrocities on every other side and selves throwing corpses over fences into neighbors gardens.

    I see you are already cognizant of Amnesty International, and I suggest Avaaz, also.

  8. Someone, I thought yourself, left a link to your blog. I then thought it to be Adam, but I go back and see it is Alan Z. an anonymous someone. Storm messing up links ….

  9. The BBC recent documentary shows a widely-circulated picture of two juvenile offenders executed in Iran in 2005 on allegations of rape and wrongly claim that the two juvenile offenders had been executed simply because they were homosexuals. This has reminded me your article in Gay City News in 2006 and your valid arguments on fabricating the case by Western media. Yet another proof!

    These are the links which would be interesting for you:

  10. I loved your piece today about “Why I am not Charlie. Thank you for giving such articulate definition to what I was feeling…
    Came here to learn more about you…My family is also from rural Ohio, and I also grew up in places southern. I also taught English overseas. My husband is Romanian, and I’ve lived in several countries. I feel a kinship to you from our similar backgrounds!
    But more importantly, I am inspired by your fantastic writing ability, and your rational sensibility. What you said today is very important. Thank you.

  11. wonderful article “why i am not charlie”. it helped me understand my immediate unease with the hashtag. thank you. and yes, your way of writing is amazing. is there a way to subscribe? it wasn’t immediately apparent.

  12. Read your piece on Charlie and shared it on my Facebook page. It was just what I was looking for – thank you for writing it.

  13. Thank you so much for your article “Why I am not Charlie”. You wrote down the words that I couldn’t find in the past few days… They are so thoughtful and compassionate and you analyse the situation so well. I so agree with what you write. I’ve put the link on twitter and sent it to quite some journalists and organizations, hoping they would read, understand and RT it.

  14. Quaintly enough, I cried when I first learned what happened at Charlie Hebdo.

    As an aspiring writer, I got emotional when people from the world of journalism were gunned down while having their editorial meeting. The thing is … I can’t even understand French, and I consider most French persons to be arrogant buffoons whose ancestors had committed numerous atrocities in Indochina (I am Asian, by the way).

    So I love what you wrote about how you are not Charlie. But I think I also love Stephanne Charbonnier et al, because he/they died for my sins — or, at least, liberal democracies’s, and the so-called “freedom of speech’s” excesses.

    By the way, I have never read Voltaire beyond skimming through Cliffnotes so thanks for pointing out that it was his biographer who said that stuff about dying to defend somebody else’s right to say what he/she wants. I may just check out Voltaire now as part of my reading list :)

  15. Faint praise, but that’s easily the most compelling blogger’s “about me” page I’ve ever come across! And I loved your Charlie Hebdo analysis, which is what got me here. Good lord I’m embarrassed to be so late in finding this terrific site. I write often about the corruption and weaponization of human rights discourse and institutions, so it’s good to be reminded of the brave and important work that people continue to do under the h.r. rubric.

  16. Somebody face-booked your I’m not Charlie piece – a deep thing…- If you go to http://www.firstofthemonth.org – you’ll run into pros and cons on that front – but I’d be honored to have you reading FIRST (or writing for us)…- Best, Benj DeMott PS Juan Cole isn’t worthy of you!! (Nothing personal there, I just read him closely re Iraq back in the day. He wasn’t a, ah, reliable narrator!

  17. Hi Scott, you are a difficult individual to contact! I would really appreciate an email-exchange moment of your time – Obviously you are quite busy, but it would be very, very appreciated. If not, I truly thank you for your words and unyielding questions.


  18. Hi Scott,
    After reading your post about why you are not Charlie, I was intrigued and moved to read your about. There is a real struggle in our world for anyone who is perceived as different. I lived with undiagnosed hydrocephalus or fluid on the brain until I was 25 and was ostracised and bullied in high school for traits that were actually symptoms of a disabillity and some of those so-called “quirks” weren’t actually me at all. Even before my diagnosis, I related very strongly to people who were misunderstood etc and wrote a poem about a butterfly emerging from its crysalis after a friend came out. I was quite amazed at the time how much his personality seemed to change immediately which made me conscious of the incredible repression he had been enduring. I have since developed further disabillity and am very conscious of needs and rights of our community and the need for dignity in the face of enormous challenges. Lately, I have felt that the Australlian government has taken to bashing up it’s disabled community and its added serious salt to already painful wounds. Thanks to people like yourself who take action against injustice. I hope I can do likewise xx Rowena

  19. I really would not like to see homosexuality practiced openly in India. I know it may seem like I am imposing my personal view, but why does the homosexual lobby only want us to see it their way and not see it our way? Freedom should not be a one way street. What one does in the confines of their personal space and between consenting adults is not for the public to decide on, but when it seeks public acceptance and does not receive it; why then does it become a negative? Why are our sensibilities not of any concern, why only those of the homosexual fraternity? I believe in support for the transgenders and their concerns are legitimate in my view, but I dislike the way gays and lesbians are piggy-backing on a genuine cause to get their way too. I recognize that you believe in your enterprise and your efforts are selfless, you have my respect for that. I do hope homosexuality does not get legal status in India at least for the next 20 years until my kids are older. There and beyond, the world will be their oyster. Until then I cannot have the sin of indifference upon me by not standing up against what I believe socially improper. I doubt I am welcome here, but I did read a few of your writings, appreciated the good will but felt I needed to speak out a conflicting view, I apologize for coming onto your personal space to express, but I do not regret my views. I wish you and all a wonderful life.

  20. Dear PaperBird,

    Stumbled on your site & began reading it out of curiousity. Think the Good Lord wanted me to learn about the pain & bitterness you & those in the gay community feel after being labeled & rejected for so many years. I’m guessing you’re around my age and hope at some point you can look beyond the cruelty & discrimination in the world and find the good. Someone once said, “if you only look for the bad in the world, you will surely find it. It’s true we don’t live in the Garden of Eden anymore but the God of creation didn’t leave us without a plan for hope. (It’s in Genesis & the Gospels.)

    Anyway, sounds like you’ve had quite a journey in life & alot of experience but are still looking for that beautiful childhood place in Ohio or maybe better phrased ” Happiness.” Life is full of quick fixes. In reading “About Me” it sounded to me like you were looking for something a little more satisfying than your current lifestyle.

    I haven’t had a perfect life (life isn’t perfect) I’ve been discriminated against for my FAITH and hurt by those i'[ve loved & trusted but by the grace of God I’m not wasting precious years of my life being angry & bitter or so empty that I have to fill it by indulging in pleasures over & over and still it’s not enough.

    I will pray for you! Take Care.

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