Partial Transcript: Jack MacCarthy:
It's a pleasure to meet you. My name's Jack, I have been working with the OUTWORDS Archive for the past year. Like I said in my email, we're gonna go somewhat chronologically. There's also flexibility within that, we don't have to use the exact roadmap of questions I sent. Do you have any questions for me before we get started?

Robert Arrington:
No. I've already looked you up and, and congratulations on your plays and your [inaudible] and everything. Anything I do, I already look up. I even looked up Kristie, but she got different hair now than she used to. So, yeah, it’s a pleasure. I feel like I'm being interviewed by something like Oprah

Jack MacCarthy:
We're gonna start at the beginning, and like I said, any questions that you don't care to answer today, we can skip. But to start, can you just say and spell your name for me, please?

Robert Arrington:
Reverend Robert R-O-B-E-R-T A-R-R-I-N-G-T-O-N Arrington. Robert Arrington.

Jack MacCarthy:
What are your pronouns, Robert?

Robert Arrington:
For today, it’s “he”.

Jack MacCarthy:
What's the city and date when you were born?

Robert Arrington:
I was born in 1960, February, at 11:35 PM, and I was born in Harlem, New York.

Jack MacCarthy:
Let's start in Harlem. Can you tell me a little bit about the home you grew up in? What was Harlem like and what was the home environment?

Robert Arrington:
All right. My childhood, let's just go in and jump off with saying that was not an easy childhood. My father was a very strict and at times very mean person and he did not know, but now 61 years later, I have an understanding of why. But I just never met up to his qualifications. My household was very weird. My father was only there maybe once a week or every other two weeks, and I understood a little bit. Now, that, I don’t wish to elaborate on, but my mother was a very religious person. We attended church almost seven days a week. I also went to Catholic school, which was very conflicting; in the daytime, to going to Catholic school, and then going to a Pentecostal church. My household was always a little tension, always a little something going on. I was very sickly. I came out of my mother's womb sickly. I just had a lot of health problems. My feet was turned the wrong way out, had to wear [inaudible] shoes. I was wearing glasses at nine months old. Asthma, all my life. So there was some complications with me and especially my father. I also was put to work, and that's the only good thing that he gave me, was work ethic. I worked for him at his supermarket. My father was an entrepreneur.

Jack MacCarthy:
You have siblings, right? You had siblings on your mom and your dad's side.

Robert Arrington:
Well, let me break that down. On my mother's side, I had a brother that is not of my father, but my father embraced him and many times put him in my face that he preferred to have him as a son to me. I have a sister that is five years younger than me. Now, on my daddy’s side, that's a whole ‘nother story. I don't really know my siblings. I know that it could be somewhere from 12 to 17. I really don't know.

Jack MacCarthy:
I have a similar family lineage whenever people ask me about siblings. I'm like, how long do you have? Your brother and your sister were in the home with you growing up?

Robert Arrington:
No. because of the way my brother came into the world, my mother was in Durham, North Carolina at that time, 19 years old. Something went down with my grandfather and clearly my mother being 19 years old, my brother was raised by my grandparents and she was sent to New York.

Jack MacCarthy:
I wanted to backtrack to the religious piece because clearly that was a big part of your upbringing. There was Catholic school during the day, and then was it Pentecostal? The church went to with your mother?

Robert Arrington:
Yes.

Jack MacCarthy:
Okay. Can you tell me a little more about what the expectations around your relationship to religion were within your family?

Robert Arrington:
Well, my mother, again, she was raised up, matter of fact, she was raised up missionary Baptist or Baptist. She just continued that when she moved to New York. Got herself settled and met my father. My father did not attend church at all, only my mother, me and my sister. We went to a small Pentecostal church in the Bronx. Like I said, we was there mostly every day. Very strict teaching, at times, very scary. The former pastor at the time was Reverend Blanchard, he was very harsh, everything, you was going to hell. If you looked at your mama cockeyed, you're going to hell. If you walk across the street the wrong way, you're going to hell. It was [inaudible], but the church is what saved me from suicide, which I thought about as a child, couple of times, to get away from a father, and some of the other things that we will talk about in this interview, But it was my refuge. I look forward to being in the church. We have mothers of the church, and one of my favorite mothers was Lucille, who covered me. When my father had his moment with me, and the verbal and sometimes physical abuse, she was always there to comfort me. It was kind of, even at an early age, I knew something with the preaching and teaching was off, until I got, later on, up to myself and able to evolve in my own belief system.

Keywords: 1960; Abuse; Catholic School; Catholicism; Childhood; Church; Family; Father; Harlem; Introduction; Mother; New York; Parents; Pastor; Pentecoastal Church; Physical Abuse; Religion; Siblings; Verbal Abuse

Partial Transcript: Jack MacCarthy:
There were a couple of things that you either realized or were told to you when you were a kid. I know the number, but just so we have it, how old were you when you realized you were gay?

Robert Arrington:
I was 6 years old.

Jack MacCarthy:
Can you tell me how that realization came about or what tipped you off?

Robert Arrington:
Well, the thing is little girls was running after me and I wasn't running after little girls. There was a little guy -- little, I guess, same age I was -- and I was just fascinated with him. Everywhere he went, it was like color purple [inaudible]. Everywhere he went, I was there with him. The teacher picked up that why was I following him around and everything? It was very obvious that I was not attracted. When I found out it was a no-no, I had a little girl that I pretended was my girlfriend, and he knew he was my boyfriend.

Keywords: Child; Childhood; Gay; Realization

Partial Transcript: Jack MacCarthy:
I also wanted to ask about being incorrectly diagnosed as mentally retarded. How old were you when you were diagnosed that way?

Robert Arrington:
Somewhere between seven and eight.

Jack MacCarthy:
Oh, okay. Can you talk a little bit about how that diagnosis affected your childhood?

Robert Arrington:
Well, basically I was having a lot of problems in the Catholic schools with those mean nuns, in the name of Jesus. I guess what happened was with my illness and everything else, the doctors and the school concocted together that I had a learning issues, and they just basically said that I was retarded and that I was probably not going to achieve like most kids. I wasn't probably going to even, maybe, be able to leave our parents or just have a normal life. Then I was shipped into what they call special ed classes, but back in my day, it was really behavior classes, which got worse after I left New York.

Jack MacCarthy:
How old were you when you left New York?

Robert Arrington:
Almost 15.

Jack MacCarthy:
Can you talk about what led to you leaving New York?

Robert Arrington:
All right. In 1974 my father got killed, supposedly. I was put away at a boarding school, all boys school, catch this, to be a man, and to be what my father wanted. That was interesting. My father got killed, I was pulled out of the boys school. My mother was from Durham, North Carolina, and because of the situation of my mother and father's relationship, we was rushed back from New York to Durham. I didn't want to go. Matter of fact, I tried to get out of the car, I wanted to stay with my uncle Bill and his wife, Lucille, but my mother said I had to come because I just turned 15, so I had no say.

Jack MacCarthy:
Your aunt Lucille was different than mother Lucille at the church?

Robert Arrington:
Yes.

Jack MacCarthy:
Okay. And because you've talked a little bit about how your father was mean and abusive, I know that when an abusive parent dies, that can be really complicated emotionally. Do you remember what you were feeling when that happened?

Robert Arrington:
Well, basically, my mother sat me down, and Aunt Lucille and my uncle came and got me. My mother was devastated, I could see in her face, she was trying to cover it. My sister was like nine or eight. She sat on the couch and she said that daddy flew away. I knew what that was. I now look back at it, I think my tears was a combination of relief and grief mixed together. It causes some issues later down the road that I had to resolve in my thirties. No, in my twenties.

Jack MacCarthy:
By the way, you're closing your eyes a lot when you speak, and you have such beautiful eyes. [crosstalk]. Tell me a little bit about what changed when you and your mom moved from Harlem to Durham.

Robert Arrington:
Well, it was very rough at that time. My mother's family is a very huge family. My grandfather and grandmother had 11 kids. We was rushed off and we stayed with my aunt, uncle, their children, my grandparents. It was a very crowded house. I didn't get along with them. I was invisible, the way I felt with them. It was very difficult for me. I think we froze.

Jack MacCarthy:
I think we did. As soon as you started talking about your aunt and uncle, that was the last thing I heard. Okay.

Robert Arrington:
Yeah. Like I said, in my aunt's house, it was full. They had their children, my grandparents and everything was tooken off of the plantation that they lived, and they was living with my aunt. The house was full. I really did not fit in with them, I was kind of the invisible child. My sister was the one who was more embraced. My brother was more embraced because he was raised, so he was saw more as my uncle and my aunt's brother, than their nephew.

Jack MacCarthy:
Was there anything that was a touchstone for you or what helped you get through that time of feeling like you didn't fit in?

Robert Arrington:
Well, I had to do what I had to do. I mean, I sat there. I was one of those kids who had to get attention by doing stuff that wasn't right, and wasn't content because I just felt invisible. I felt that my siblings was the one and because I was “weird one,” I was spiritually weird and I was sickly and I couldn't play with the kids. Even when we was coming in the summers, because in the summers, we was just thrown in my father's Cadillac or my mother's station wagon, and we was taken to my grandparents’, which they stayed on the plantation. I just had to adapt because I no longer had the shield of mother Lucille who passed away right before I was put in boys' school and before my father got killed. I didn't have that covering anymore, so it was interesting.

Jack MacCarthy:
What was the school situation in Durham?

Robert Arrington:
A freaking nightmare. It’s Nightmare on Elm Street, Freddy Kruger or anybody else is the … When I moved to Durham, because my diagnose and everything else, I had to be thrown in special ed -- and again, it was not, it was behavior classes. I was put back, not one but two grades, because according to the academic institution of Durham, I was picked on by the kids because if they saw you going to that classroom, they knew it was the stupid kids and the crazy kids. I didn't learn much because I was fighting kids off of me and being touched improperly by kids feeling my button. It was just really mayhem. Sometimes the teachers will control the class, and sometimes it wasn't. My cousins kind of treated me a little different because they thought I was a little special one. School was just really a nightmare on top of everything else.

Jack MacCarthy:
Were there any allies or friends that you had during that time? Or maybe even people you didn't know personally, but who were role models or possibility models?

Robert Arrington:
Well, the only one that I kind of gravitated to was my Uncle Gilbert, and his twin brother Wilbert. They kind of embraced me. Some of my uncle's wife, a couple of them, they embraced me. I only have one cousin that I was really close to, and one of my aunts, who I eventually went to stay with, Aunt Shirley, she was the one. Everybody else was just interesting.

Jack MacCarthy:
Something that I forgot to say at the beginning of the interview is to just incorporate my question into your answer whenever possible. So if I say, “What did you have for breakfast?” Instead of just saying, “Oatmeal,” you'd say, “I had oatmeal for breakfast today.”

Robert Arrington:
I try to remember that. I'm not gonna promise I'm gonna to do well.

Jack MacCarthy:
Yeah. I may prompt you to repeat things. When did you leave that situation of staying in the full house? When did you get out of there?

Robert Arrington:
When did I leave that situation? Well, I didn't leave that situation for about four years. What happened was my mother got her a job. My father kept my family very well off, so we went from well-off to nightmare poor. My mother had to start over, find a job. We got an apartment in a neighborhood where I had two aunts and three uncles, I believe -- two or three uncles. We had a little bitty apartment. We had our own plates. My brother was in and out because of his relationship with mama. He tried to stay with us. I was with her into, roughly into, I was 17 years old. Then there was a situation and I went to stay with my aunt.

Jack MacCarthy:
Was staying with your aunt any better.

Robert Arrington:
Oh my God. My cousins, who I now see, I kind of see them ... Yet that we have kind of moved to another level because of my sexuality and me being pastor and reverend. But it was such better. I fit in. My aunt took in all of the kids who was, kind of, I hate to say the outcast, all the kids who was having issues, they went to my aunt. I loved my aunt, and I still do. She's still in Atlanta, living. The situation was much better, but I was so damaged and so very confused because I was just struggling. I was struggling mentally, physically, trying to fit in. My aunt had like six kids and the house was always full. I shared my bedroom with my cousins. It was very interesting and kind of put a little rift between my mother and my aunt because I was being mean and spiteful, I was calling my aunt, my mother. It was a lot of drama, but it was so a relief to get away from the situation with my mother.

Keywords: Abuse; Behavior Classes; Boarding School; Catholic School; Cousins; Death; Diagnosis; Durham; Family; Father; Fight; Grandparents; Grief; Intellectual Disability; Invisible; Job; Learning Issues; Mental Retardation; Mother; North Carolina; Nun; Outcast; Parents; Plantation; Role Models; Special Ed

Partial Transcript: Jack MacCarthy:
What happened after you graduated high school?

Robert Arrington:
What happened after graduation was first and foremost, I graduated from a high school where most of my family is still graduating from Northern High in Durham, North Carolina. I wanted to quit, but my grandmother, my brother, my sister and everyone else who wouldn't let me do it. I graduated at almost 20 years old, and out of 300 kids, I was the third oldest kid to graduate. After that, I kind of lost my mind. I went and tried to go to college. That didn't pan out, but then the other stuff jumped off after that. I had a brief forced marriage with a woman that didn't last long. It was kind of downhill a little bit after I graduated.

Jack MacCarthy:
Yeah. I wanted to ask about that. Did you know from the beginning that it wasn't going to work out or was there something there where you thought this could work?

Robert Arrington:
Well, the thing is at eight years old, I basically knew that God was calling me to the ministry, but I could not explain it, especially to that pastor at the time, because I believe him and my mother was having conversations behind my back about the difficulties, because I was very different than any of the children, especially in that church. I vividly remember -- and still at 61 remember -- the calling at a revival, one night that I was called. Fast forwarding, as I got to high school, we started going to this church that was a distant cousin. He knew, of course, that, as my grandfather used to call me, I was a little twisted or [inaudible]. I had a long talk with him and he said, “Look, you got a call in your life. I want to help you get into ministry, but we gotta get this gay demon out of you.” He called it a demon, and he said, “Go find a woman. That's going to fix it.” When I was briefly at college, Ruckus College, I met Valerie. We kind of hung around, and I tried my little best to be with her, but we knew it wasn't. Had like 250 people at the wedding. Her mother was an alcoholic and there was some other abuse that was going on to Valerie. I had no idea that she had a severe mental issue, so it was just a Nightmare on Elm street. It was a fake marriage. Matter of fact, the night before I met Valerie I was kind of with this guy that I was really interested in. I had my last little kiss and my little hug and embrace, and next morning, hang over, I showed up at the church and got married. I married because my mother wanted me to be a man, and I married for the church.

Jack MacCarthy:
What was your mother's response to both the marriage and the divorce?

Robert Arrington:
Well, my mother praised God, it was almost like we was having a service instead of a wedding because everybody was like, Ooh, finally Bobby is straight and everything else. My mother also got married seven months after I did, to the deacon of the church, and neither one of our marriages lasted. Mine's only lasted seven months. I was with Valerie for two years, seven years with marriage. I had to send Valerie back because her mental issues was getting severe. I was trying to work. I was a functioning alcoholic, I was smoking reefer. Trying to work, she was not mentally to work. Violence came, so I had to take her back to her mother.

Jack MacCarthy:
Yeah. I wanted to ask about the alcohol and the drug use. When did that start?

Robert Arrington:
Once I started with Valerie. I mean, I had my own place, because I got my own place around 22 or something. I was working at the Salvation Army. I got out, I got my own little place. It was a shotgun house. You run up the stairs and you run out the back door. Valerie kind of incorporated my little space. I brought her in and we tried to live there, and it was rough. I mean, she had an episode, and I don't know if you know about those big chairs with the beds, the couch with the bed in it, she literally threw it at me. The drinking was really bad. I guess I started with six pack of bull, and I ended up, before I took her back, I was drinking like maybe a fifth liquor a day, and spending somewhere between 20 and $30 on reefer, because I was miserable.

Jack MacCarthy:
When and how did the substance use stop?

Robert Arrington:
Well, it didn't really stop, it just wasn't that increased once I got away from Valerie. For many, many years after that, I still dabble with all kinds of drugs and alcohol. My favorite was the bull. Every time you saw a blue can in my hand, it was my bull, which my family still, even today, will not let me forget.

Keywords: Abuse; Alcoholism; Church; College; Demon; Divorce; Drugs; God; Graduation; High School; Marriage; Mental Health; Mental Issues; Ministry; Reefer; Ruckus College; Substance Use

Partial Transcript: Jack MacCarthy:
And there was a drag, a brief drag career in the middle somewhere. Right?

Robert Arrington:
What happened was, right after Valerie left, for that brief moment she left, and then we found out later that she was supposed to be with child. I got out there and I started getting into the clubs, and one of my dearest friends was a popular drag queen. It was also, again, a way for me to get attention, because just me as a gay African-American male, the guys wasn't hitting on me, because everybody in my little group at the power company in Durham, I don't care how short my shorts were. I got messed up one night, and my best friend and them says, “Let's dress you up and do amateur night,” and I did it. I didn't do as long because that, also, was taking me into cocaine, and it was just kind of eerie. I didn't really like it, but it was fun when I did it. It was something that was exciting. But the world of drag queen is not an easy lifestyle. It's very expensive, and when you're doing pageants, you got them putting stuff in your dress, cutting your dress. I did it for a little while and I knew it wasn't me.

Keywords: African-American; Club; Cocaine; Drag Queen; Drugs; Gay; Pageant; Pregnancy

Partial Transcript: Jack MacCarthy:
Can you just walk me through the timeline between when you and Valerie separated and your HIV diagnosis? How long was that?

Robert Arrington:
A long time. Okay. That timeline between Valerie and the HIV basically is, like I said, I sent Valerie back, my friends was getting ready to have a coming out party. I never came out, I mean, I never went in the closet. I didn't know what the closet was. That was mostly for Caucasian people. I just told people when I married Valerie, I just put a cute curtain up in the front of my closet. My friends and them was going to take me to the to the club in Raleigh for my freedom from that Godforsaken marriage, Valerie showed up, her mother showed up with her, and I found that the Valerie was with child, but sadly, because of Valerie's medicine and her condition, the babies didn't make it in the world and it was supposed to be twins and it was supposed to be boys. From that, I began to really do the club. My family members was gossiping and telling my mama that he saw me on the corner with a dress on, which none of that was true, one of my uncles that he saw me kissing somebody, that could have been true. So, I ran away. I showed up at one of the family get-together and I told them -- I don't want to use that language on this interview, but it was some foul language because I was drinking my bulls -- that they'll never see me again. I followed my best friend, who just moved a year before, to Fayetteville, and Fayetteville was my Sodom and Gomorrah days. Only thing that I did right in Fayetteville was work at Mayflower moving company, just before I finally returned to Durham the second time. I was diagnosed in 1988, being HIV positive. I was supposed to go out of town to Delaware, knew that I wasn't feeling good, one of the many guys who I was dealing with at that time told me I didn't look right, but I got up and went to work because I had good work ethic, and I collapsed at work. I was taken in ambulance, put in at Cape Fear Valley Hospital, and fighting for my life. I had pneumonia. My asthma came back because of me smoking reefer and trying to smoke cigarettes, and being grown. My right lung was slightly collapsed, but it was something not right. Kind of was on the ventilator to help me breathe, and all that. Then he noticed, because at that time I had beautiful hair, which I don't have anymore. And he knew some of the people who was coming to see me, with my family kind of looking at them, because my family was coming in and out because the doctors told my mother I could go either way, I could make it or I could die. They told me I needed to have a test, a blood test. Anyway, I had a blood test, I never forget it, me and my mother was sitting, talking, one of my family members left and went to the waiting room, then all of a sudden the door opened and it was a doctor and it was some other people and a chaplain and everything. I was like, I felt in my spirit, I said, “Something ain’t right.” I looked at my mother and I demanded her to leave the room. She left, very angry and pissed. The doctors looked at me and he said, “Look, we looked at your blood test and everything else, you have it. And we roughly give you five years if you get out of this hospital.” I kind of panic and everything else. [inaudible], and had to put me back on the ventilator for maybe a day or so. So, it was in 1988. October the 11th 1988, at 2:30 PM.

Jack MacCarthy:
What was your awareness of HIV and AIDS before that? It seems like when they said, “You have it,” you knew what that meant.

Robert Arrington:
Right. Because that's exactly what he said. I knew that a lot of people in Fayetteville, one of my roommates passed away with it. I knew it was all over the place. I know I had a cousin that was up in Washington, DC, who wasn't doing well, he was full-blown AIDS. Kind of first started, it was a Caucasian disease and then it started moving in. I, kind of, knew it was out there, but I never asked anybody, a man who was with me, to protect themselves because I just wanted somebody to be with me, so I compromised myself. I even know the person who infected me. Matter of fact, before he died, I went to the hospital to forgive him. I knew of it, but I didn't know it was going to hit me the way it did.

Keywords: AIDS; Ambulance; Asthma; Blood Test; Closet; Club; Coming Out; Death; Divorce; Doctors; Family; Fayetteville; HIV; HIV Positive; Hospital; Pneumonia

Partial Transcript: Jack MacCarthy:
After the diagnosis and you were told you had five years to live, what happened from there?

Robert Arrington:
Well, that's when it went all to hell in the hell box, because back in that 1989 and everything else, to get disability, you almost had to be on your deathbed, on the way to the funeral home. The [inaudible] was, you really couldn't work. After I got out of the hospital, I tried to stay in Fayetteville. My mother and them wanted me to let go the house, let go everything, and just come back to Durham. I wasn't going back to Durham. What happened was, I was trying to do a set moving furniture, because I'm a certified packer, I was packing. But my breathing; some days I didn't have no energy; the medicine, the AZT, they had me on; diarrhea and all that other stuff. They finally said, “Look, you can't work.” I had to let go, because to get disability, I had to have no income. It just went from nightmare. I got an eviction notice on my house. My boyfriend at that time left me for my other best friend. Left me in the house, my lights was turning off. The clincher is, because I love to eat, I had no food in the refrigerator. I had to eat crow and go across the street to Ms. Hattie's house, she was glad because she was begging me to go back. I had to call for my family to come and get me. They all came down, my uncles, my sister, my brother, and I think one of my aunts came. They all packed me up and took me back to Durham, which I stayed with my mother.

Jack MacCarthy:
How long were you in Durham that time?

Robert Arrington:
I was in Durham, maybe seven, seven or eight years before I left, the final time, the right way, the way God wanted me to leave.

Jack MacCarthy:
Once you moved back, what did your life look like at that point?

Robert Arrington:
Well, the thing is I have a mother who never let you forget anything. I have a family who never let you forget nothing. My mother was staying in the compact, I moved back with her and had to eat crow because I was very skinny because I was not eating right. Just messed up. My mother really didn't know until a few months after I moved in with her that I was even HIV positive. I told her in a way that you shouldn't be, so I quickly looked for an exit. I applied for Section 8. I was blessed. I got on Section 8, I was getting some food stamps. I got my disability check, the lump sum. My mother asked me, what was I doing upstairs? I was packing, and I told her I was leaving. She was telling me, “You're not gonna make it. You know what they told you. Clearly, you can't live.” I was like, I'm the hell out here. I moved in my own apartment, a Section 8 apartment. I started still partying and drinking, because I thought I had five years. One day, my big boss, God, told me to look at the calendar. I'm half high, and I'm looking at the calendar. I looked at the year and I'm like, oh, okay. It's seven years, I passed the five years. That's when I started to get my life back, kind of, back together.

Keywords: Alcohol; Deathbed; Diagnosis; Disability; Disability Check; Durham; Family; Fayetteville; Food Stamp; God; HIV; HIV Positive; Hospital; Income; Mother; North Carolina; Siblings

Partial Transcript: Jack MacCarthy:
Tell me a little about getting your life back together. What changed? What did you start doing?

Robert Arrington:
Well, the first thing I did was after I [inaudible] messed up the credit cards, because I thought I had five years. Matter of fact, I want to throw in there, the two doctors who gave me five and agreed to five years, one doctor died right at the five years he gave me, and another doctor died, maybe a couple of years after that. I outlived both of those doctors. What I basically did was, I started work at 11, so I had a work ethic, and I just did not like having disability. I did not like having food stamps, and I didn't have a vehicle. What I did was I started volunteering. I became an activist and I started volunteering at Duke Hospital in one of their ICU critical units. I was supposed to be the person at the front desk and sashay you to the back when the doctors wanted you. But my boss upstairs, with my calling, was different. I was ministering to families. I was in there when the plug was being unplugged. I became an activist. One of the main things that happened while I was in Durham, I came out with my HIV status. I'm raised in an African-American family, like every other black family, what stays in the house stays in, but that didn't work with Robert Arrington. I'm always the one out with everything. The Herald newspaper in Durham wanted to do a story on me because I was really moving up, being an activist. They told me I was going to be like on the second page or the back page, so I started to tell my family. My mother was threatened that she was getting ready to go to the funeral home and see Jesus. My grandmother was coming over to my house, begging me not to do it. I told them I have no choice. I came out with, not only my homosexuality, I came out with my HIV. Ended up on the front page of the newspaper. Then I got back in church. My family's conservative Baptist, missionary Baptist church, I started a HIV care team with my aunt who I lived with, aunt Shirley, because we always went around in her car to take care of the sick. We took care of all the family people. I was traveling with her, taking care of my great great aunt who was like a hundred and something, because when she died, she was like 114. I just continued. But, also, still trying to find love in all the wrong places. Had guys who was inducing me to hard drugs, crack cocaine. I had to ease it off. The club was not doing anymore, so I went to revival one night and I kind of rededicated my life to the Lord. Then I got very sick, very, very sick. My [inaudible] because I was going to Memorial hospital in Chapel Hill, and everything was going downhill. They thought I was getting ready to die. But God was telling me to go and tell my pastor that I was called to preach, and I refused to do it. Basically, what I'm just saying is, around 1991, that's when everything started jumping with my life. Now, I was doing activism; I was traveling around the United States; I was speaking; I got sent to Vancouver as a representative for the world AIDS conference. I even was in the limousine with Reverend Jim Wright, who was Obama’s pastor. Everything was interesting starting in 1991.

Keywords: AIDS; Activism; Activist; African-American; Baptist Church; Christianity; Clubs; Cocaine; Coming Out; Death; Doctors; Drugs; Food Stamps; God; HIV; HIV Care Team; Homosexuality; ICU; Life; Ministry; Newspaper; Pastor; Religion; Volunteering; Work Ethic; World AIDS Conference

Partial Transcript: Jack MacCarthy:
Just so I'm clear on the timeline, 1991, was that also when you got the calling revival?

Robert Arrington:
What basically happened is ... Backtrack. I was [inaudible] I've ran from my calling because my former pastor, Charles Ranch, and the Storefront Church told me that God can't use homosexual, because I was an abomination, I was unclean, and there was no way that God can use this little sissy. But I knew because I had visions as a child. I was very spiritual as a child. When kids fall on the ground, I was framed for them, and the kid and the nuns and everybody thought I was weird. But when I came back to Durham the second time, the calling was getting rougher and rougher on me, where I just succumbed. I thought maybe working with the youths in the church and starting the HIV care team with my aunt and them was going to be enough, but that wasn't enough.

Jack MacCarthy:
At what point did you realize it wasn't going to be enough and start looking into becoming a preacher?

Robert Arrington:
Well, that started this almost six battle with my family's conservative church because I wanted to be ordained as an open gay man, and that was just not going to happen. One night, at the revival I was doing, I was sick. I had diarrhea, my family kind of looked at me, and my mother kind of knew I wasn't doing good. My CD4 count was dropping. I was teething towards full blown AIDS. This is the second revival that I went to and I was really sick. I stood up, and everybody knew that I was HIV positive, and I kind of came out, I told them, “You know I'm different.” I didn't say gay, I didn't say homosexual, sissy and everything else. The church was crying. People got up. My mother was pissed that I got up in front of the church and did all of this. They laid hands on me. They prayed for me and everything else. Moving forward, my doctor says, “We might have to put you in the hospital.” I got enough nerve to call my pastor, met him, he was a professor at Duke Divinity School. I went to meet him and he thought I wanted to talk about my final wishes and my funeral and everything else. Well, that wasn't the story. Basically, I met him in his office, he looked at me and he said, “What is it?” I said, “I'm called to preach the gospel of Jesus Christ.” He looked at me and he said, “Excuse me, did you say you want to preach?” He says, “That can't happen.” I said, “I'm called.” He said, “No”. He left me in his office. I have, till date, not know where that man went. It feels like hours, he left me there. He came back in, he sat down, he looked at me and he says, “I don't think that's going to happen.” He said, “Because I know you are funny, or whatever you want to call yourself, and I'm not sure you want to be a woman or a man.” He says it wouldn’t. I wouldn't give up. Basically, for almost six years, it was a complete bringing in different people and everything fighting for me to get ordained as a gay preacher.

Keywords: AIDS; Christ; Christianity; Church; Conservatism; Doctor; Durham; Gay Preacher; God; Gospel; HIV; HIV Care Team; Homosexual; Jesus; Jesus Christ; Open Gay Man; Ordination; Pastor; Prayer; Preacher; Religion; Revival; Spritiuality; Visions; Youth

Partial Transcript: Jack MacCarthy:
What do you think gave you the courage to ask for that and to keep at it?

Robert Arrington:
Well, it's funny you have that conversation because I'm working on my first book and I had to take a break because it was too depressing, and my therapist told me to just stop for a while and then go back, because I'm almost finished. And I just had a very conversation with my friend. All I know is it was my spirit man, my spirit person that continued to fight, because I almost had a nervous breakdown. I had to know it was something greater than me, but I just would not. Even my grandmother begged me, and my mother, I didn't speak to some of my family members. It was just a mess, but I kept the battle.

Jack MacCarthy:
What happened at the end of those six years?

Robert Arrington:
Well, basically, they knew I wasn't going to go nowhere. They knew I was not going to give up, so it was kind of a little compromise, in some kind of way, that I will be licensed as a non-practicing homosexual. It was like window shopping, I can look at it, lick my tongue, but I could put my hands on it. I had my initial sermon, my great, great uncle came and sat in the pulpit with me. It was a great day. Then I finally was sitting with all the reverends and the deacons, and some of the church members was looking at me, and those mothers, like, hmm, they didn't like it. Then I had a visitation where the Bible opened up to Abraham and Moses, and God said, “Now leave”. I'm like, okay. I went through all of this, caused all this hell in this church with my family. I hit the floor, got up. That's where I'm now at Unity Fellowship Church Movement.

Keywords: Battle; Bible; Christianity; Church; Courage; Family; Gay Preacher; Perseverance; Preacher; Religion; Sermon; Spirit; Unity Fellowship Church Movement; Visitation

Partial Transcript: Jack MacCarthy:
Between getting the message, “Okay, now leave”, and getting to the Unity Fellowship Church, how did that happen? How did that transition happen?

Robert Arrington:
Well, at that time I was traveling every three months. I was involved with a man's group, HIV organization, and we go down to Jackson, Mississippi. There was a deacon, Deacon Carlton, was telling me about this church that was full of gay people; the preacher was gay and his pastor was gay, and he was married. I was like, what the hell? It was just very interesting. But between that, I received this video, in the middle of me fighting, sent it to me. It was very weird how I got it. It was called, All My God's Children. In this All My God's Children document, it was talking about HIV and people dying of AIDS, especially men of color. It was also talking about the church, and the damage of the black church. All of a sudden, I looked up, and there was, at that time, it was Bishop Carl Bean, who is now Bishop Carl Bean. He was a little chubby guy. He was walking with a Bible. I remember sitting in my little room and I wept. I said, I want to be where that little chubby man was, because he said, “God is love and love is for everyone”. Then Carlton gave me the brochure. I found out that there was going to be a church, a Unity Church opening up in North Carolina, the first one. The Reverend and her wife lived in Washington, DC. Even today, I cannot tell you, I don't know how, I got a plane ticket, hotel room for three nights and went to Washington DC to meet them. They had a fundraiser. I met them at the fundraiser -- a little joke, I changed three times because I was kind of weird at that time -- really met them. That Sunday, I went to a Unity Fellowship Church, which was quite different. I didn't know what they was doing, but I felt at home. I came back to Durham and I asked God, “Can I leave?” And God said, yes. I said, “Are you sure? Because I don't want to come back to this place.” I got a yes. I resigned from the church. I called my mother and my brother and my sister, they met and I said, “I'm leaving”. My mother thought that I was on crack cocaine and I was having a mental thing. Everybody was trying to keep me from moving to Charlotte.

Jack MacCarthy:
What year was that?

Robert Arrington:
I moved to Charlotte, June the 26th of 2001.

Jack MacCarthy:
Okay. I'm going to ask about that, but this feels like a moment where we could take a like five minute break. If you need to drink water and use the bathroom, do you feel like you need a break or would you rather just keep going?

Robert Arrington:
I can keep going. Was it the boo-boo that I was drinking while I was talking to you? Do I not supposed to drink when I'm not talking to you?

Jack MacCarthy:
No, you're good. Please hydrate yourself.

Robert Arrington:
Okay. I’m good. I might have to do it. Just check-in with me another 20 minutes, I might have to walk around a little bit with my bag, but I got this beautiful new chair that my church got me. I'm doing good, let's go a little bit more.

Keywords: AIDS; Baptist Church; Charlotte; Durham; Gay Pastor; Gay Preacher; God; HIV; Jackson; Love; Mississippi; North Carolina; Resignation; Unity Fellowship Church; Unity Fellowship Church Movement; Washington DC

Partial Transcript: Jack MacCarthy:
Wonderful. Okay. So tell me what happened when you moved to Charlotte?

Robert Arrington:
Oh my God. Charlotte was the beginning of a wonderful journey, in some ways, because I was not using Robert. I didn't use Robert until a couple years later. I was calling myself Bobby. I know who Bobby is now, Bobby was the little child that never grew up to be who I was. I didn't know who Robbie was, so I called myself Bobby. In Unity Fellowship Church of Charlotte, I came in, they let me keep my credentials, which was a blessing, I came in as minister Bobby. I found a little apartment with a very nasty, hateful little landlord, section 8, right down the street from Johnson and Wales. Had my little apartment, and I was glad to be away from Durham. I have to back up a little bit, at 33 or 34, I went back to college. I started at Shaw University in Durham. They had a satellite office in a little basement, and then every other Saturday I had to go to Raleigh, North Carolina to have some classes there. When I knew I was leaving, I was like, okay, ain’t no Shaw University in Charlotte, what was I going to do? I got the shock of my life. I applied to the university, North Carolina university of Charlotte, and they let me in. I read that letter, I ain't gonna lie to you, I read that letter four days. I don't know. I kept reading and I kept saying, “I know ain't no way they let me into that.” I switched over because in Shaw, I was getting a religion degree, but they didn't have the degree at the University of North Carolina of Charlotte. What I got is my religion, so I was pursuing my BA. I was starting school, I was scared as the hand. Most of my teachers was younger than I was. I started in ministry. I was seeing a therapist, because I always had a therapist throughout most of my life, dealing with my father and other issues. I moved up the rank of ministry, was kind of my pastor/Bishop right hand man, and I also met someone who I ended up briefly married to.

Jack MacCarthy:
This was all in Charlotte

Robert Arrington:
Yeah.

Jack MacCarthy:
Over the course of how many years was all this happening?

Robert Arrington:
Well, I left Charlotte in 2007 or 8, so it was that span, because I was sent to Rochester.

Keywords: BA; Bachelor of Arts; Bachelor’s; Charlotte; College; Journey; Minister; Ministry; Religious Studies; Unity Fellowship Church; University of North Carolina at Charlotte

Partial Transcript: Jack MacCarthy:
Okay. You went through this program at Charlotte, you started moving up, you met the person that you were briefly married to. Tell me about getting sent to Rochester.

Robert Arrington:
Yeah, well kind of put it this way. I graduated at 45 years old with my BA, which I'm looking at right now, proudly, on my wall. I have a BA, a bachelor of arts in Religion Studies, which was very rough because I had two professors told me that I'll never be pastor material, and quit. I didn't. I graduated. After graduating, there started some issues with me and the pastor who now moved up from Reverend to Elder, now she was Bishop, we started bumping heads, and it was some issues, it was some doubt that I was pastor material because I had a vision through a fast in Columbia, South Carolina, with the person who I was with, Robinson, and it was telling me I was coming to South Carolina. I was telling her this and everything else. And somehow this new thing that the movement wanted to do was send someone like me to get a little bit more experience and be assistant pastor in another church. Had a good fundraiser, raising money and everything else. My mother was like, oh no, I'm moving all the way to Rochester, New York. My brother drove the truck, all those hours, and my mother gave me her old car. Me, Robinson and Angel was sent to Rochester.

Jack MacCarthy:
How long were you in Rochester?

Robert Arrington:
Maybe like three or four years.

Jack MacCarthy:
Can you tell me what happened in Rochester?

Robert Arrington:
All I'm going to say is, Rochester is something that if somebody came to me and said, “What memories would you like to erase, that you will never think of?” Rochester would be there. Rochester, New York is a scary place. It's very prominent. It's very poor. It's a little scary. It's cold, 0.0. I have never seen that much snow. I saw snow when I was raised in New York. It was just … It was rough. The pastor of the church that I came in, there was so much trouble in the church, it was unsaveable. I was resisted because it seemed that I was coming in to take over the church. Their members, some of them, literally wanted to fight me. It was a nightmare. It not only almost financially bankrupt me, it was the end of my marriage. So it was not good.

Jack MacCarthy:
Yeah. I went to school in upstate New York after being born and raised in San Diego and those upstate New York winters are no joke. So did you go from Rochester to South Carolina?

Robert Arrington:
Yes. What happened was, we used to, and now we just did it, but we did a virtual this year, but what we was having for the longest is we had convocation. Our mother church is in Los Angeles, California, in the hood in the Crump. In October, we will go to LA, and then midyear, will be on this side, like in New Jersey, Washington, you know, stuff like that. The year that I was almost to lose my mind, they gave us midyear. We only had a few members. Really, only three of us; my ex -- soon to be ex -- and two other people who had the only sense in the church. We put this thing on thinking that only a few people would come to Godforsaken Rochester. We thought maybe a hundred, we ended up getting 400 people coming up there. Our founder, who was traveling at the time, he drove from LA -- never took a plane because he's kind of huge -- he came. He sent for me. I walked in, as soon as I saw him, I started crying. He saw the pain. He says, I don't agree with this anymore. He released me from Rochester to go and open up a church here in Charleston, South Carolina.

Jack MacCarthy:
And this was the founder, this was Carl Bean?

Robert Arrington:
Yes.

Keywords: BA; Bachelor of Arts; Bankruptcy; Charlotte; Church; Divorce; Graduation; Los Angeles; Marriage; New York; Pastor; Religious Studies; Rochester

Partial Transcript: Jack MacCarthy:
Okay. Tell me about coming from Rochester to South Carolina.

Robert Arrington:
Well, I always loved South Carolina. I loved it. I was so glad to get away from that snow. Well, the funny thing is, we moved from Rochester in January, the end of January. I left Rochester with ... He really wasn't a member, he was dating a guy who was coming in and out. He drove me and Robinson and Angel for 19 hours to Charleston, South Carolina. We left in the middle of a winter storm. Matter of fact, we barely got out of Rochester. Got to this apartment that two people who was with the church found for me and Robinson. When we got here, four days after we got here, Charleston got a dusting of snow for the first time in years, and the whole city shut down. I was confused. But I love Charleston, South Carolina. It's different. It's a very difficult ministry. I've been here for 10 years, it's not been easy. Clearly a lot's happened from 2010 when I got here to 2021 right now.

Jack MacCarthy:
Tell me a little bit about that change starting in 2010. What was the situation when you got there?

Robert Arrington:
Well, I was living in North Charleston in a rundown apartment. Robinson was blessed with the knowledge of putting stuff together. I had a decent sized congregation. I know this interview is going to be seen all over, so I will be nicely of my words right now. There was some problems with the former members that was going to the church, and kind of running the church. I was like not running the church. They had issues with my preaching. They had issues with me, period, and I got attacked by 17 people, to remove me from the church. That was the same time that my big boss blessed me, where I'm talking to you now, from my study, we got a habitat house. A habitat house is where you have sweat hours, like 500-some sweat hours, where you have to build your house, go to classes, all this kind of stuff. We were selected. We was the first open gay couples do get a habitat house in Charleston. That was in 2015. I also got legally married in 2015, at that time also. Yet the relationship was rocky at that time, and it just got worse after that.

Keywords: Charleston; Congregation; God; Habitat House; Marriage; Ministry; New York; Open Gay Couple; Rochester; South Carolina

Partial Transcript: Robert Arrington:
I had some health scares. I had to have a hip replacement, right after, like 2014. Then in 2000-somewhere-around-16, everyone thought I had the stroke. What I had, because I've been HIV positive for over 30-some-years, I began to have neurocritical problems. After my members left, the church was in a limbo. I thought that my Bishop at that time, because Bishop Rawls, who was the pastor in Charlotte, she left the movement and started her own thing in Charlotte. She left and I got a new Bishop. I thought she was going to remove me after those people [inaudible], but I was, like, under, in a way, probation. We got over that and it's just been really hit and miss after that. Then finally in 2019, my ex, Robinson, walked out and left me. With a house, car and a dog. He's halfway taken care of the car, I gotta throw that little piece in. But it's been rough for the last two years, but I still have the house, I still have the car, with the help of many family, friends and everything. I'm still holding everything together.

Jack MacCarthy:
Can I ask you what the issues were that those 17 people united about to try to get you off?

Robert Arrington:
I feel they wanted a woman preacher. Two is, I'm very Pentecostal. I don't know if you know anything about Pentecost, I don't know your spirituality, but we are people, if you drop a book on the floor, we get up and we dance and shout. I'm very pentecostal. I have the gift of laying hands on people. I speak in tongues. Some of those things was not there that they wanted. I, also, am bold in this interview saying, I don't feel like they wanted a church, they wanted a social club, because they brought people to the church and everybody was in that circle. They came to church together, they left, they went to eat, and I saw the pattern. Then they was talking about, because I don't pronounce words right, because I have a learning disability. Now, I know what it is, I don't talk about it. I was diagnosed with it because when I was at UNC and Charlotte, they wanted to help me so I can graduate, so I had to pay like $300 for this test. They found out what's wrong with me. All these little components was issue, and about me being gay. Put it this way, it was just a lot of issues and it damaged my self-esteem and everything, because I struggle with my self-esteem and other things.

Keywords: Bishop; Charleston; Church; Divorce; Ex; HIV Positive; Health Scares; Learning Disability; Pastor; Pentecost; Preacher; Self-Esteem; South Carolina

Partial Transcript: Jack MacCarthy:
You've been there about 10 years, or it seems maybe even more than 10 years.

Robert Arrington:
11

Jack MacCarthy:
11 years. After that conflict, what has kept you there?

Robert Arrington:
Thing is, I love Charleston. I'm nine minutes away from Folly beach. I have a beautiful three bedroom home. We had a house, and at that time I had a husband. I still had a few people who stayed with me. And I was determined, and I'm still determined, to build a ministry here in Charleston. Again, it goes back to that, the spiritual person just don't quit.

Jack MacCarthy:
What's your vision for that ministry?

Robert Arrington:
Right now, we are at a standstill in some ways because through the pandemic, and even before the pandemic, I knew at least one person was moving. Then one person who was my deacon, my first deacon, she decided to move away. That was interesting. I really don't have a lot of members right now. We doing virtual everything, because we’re no longer in the building because of the pandemic. We have stuff stored at MCC, where we went to, to relaunch the ministry right after the 15 people did what they did. I still have a vision because people still believe here. My heart is still raining from, even, maybe a month and a half ago, where a young man told me, “You can't be a pastor because you gay.” He will never come to the church because there was no gay church. I told him, “You’re right, it’s not a gay church, it's a church like everybody else church.” I have that mindset. I have people who stay in churches that they are told they're going to hell. The biggest thing is most people believe. Because they're gay, lesbian, queer, bisexual, transgender, and whatever, those other little acronyms that come after that, that they are a sin because of who they are. So, I got a lot of work to do. I love my home. I have a beautiful home, and I love Charleston. I'm going to stay here and fight. I'm trying to hold on to the house, car and everything else, it’s been really interesting. My fur baby is 16, and if she lives to see July, she'll be 17. She is starting to decline a little bit. She's blind in one eye and sleeping a lot. Some days she doesn't move, so I'm keeping my eyes on her now.

Keywords: Charleston; Ministry; Pandemic; Perseverance; Quit; South Carolina; Virtual Church

Partial Transcript: Jack MacCarthy:
It sounds like what you want is to reach the people who feel shame about their identity and bring that love to them. Is that the vision?

Robert Arrington:
Yes. I also have a vision of building a Nehemiah justice center here. The Nehemiah justice center, in my vision, is a center, because here in Charleston, South Carolina, let's just say, there's a race issue. And there's gatekeepers here in Charleston, inclusiveness and diversity is not here. All the agencies, let me just back up, is Caucasian. We have nothing minority here. We had one club here, that was it. We don't have an African-American club. We don't have an African American organization, nothing, here in Charleston. Everything is run by Caucasian people. I have a vision of building a Nehemiah center, where we'll be inclusive, and we'll deal with HIV. It will deal with illiteracy. I also have a calling towards my trans community, I want to do more. I'm looking into grants right now. My church is 501(C). Maybe down the line, I incorporated the Nehemiah center, and hopefully, maybe in the next two or three years to get a 501(C)4 there.

Jack MacCarthy:
Can you just explain for me what a Nehemiah center is?

Robert Arrington:
Well, I kind of told you, a Nehemiah justice center is, the reason why I named it Nehemiah, in the Bible is a book called Nehemiah. Nehemiah returned back to Jerusalem after they was tooken in captivity for seven years from Babylon. The walls was towed down, the city was, the temple, and everything else. I see myself as Nehemiah. I'm not building walls in some ways, but I build up people. The Nehemiah is a justice center for people. Like I said, I want to do HIV work. I want to reach the transgender community. I want to drop in center. I still have division, at 61.

Jack MacCarthy:
Can you elaborate a little more on what your vision is for what you want to do for the trans community?

Robert Arrington:
Well, the vision is I would like to do clothes [inaudible] for them, so they have proper clothes when they go for interviews. Have some people who I'm trying to reach out to, and matter of fact, I'm really working on, now meeting with some of them, have someone to help with their makeup, how they look when they go out, support. Right now what it is in Charleston is different, what I want to do. I want to ask my community, what do they need, and not what we have been given by some of the organizations that is running here, who just gives what they think we need.

Keywords: Bible; Charleston; HIV; Illiteracy; Inclusivity; Love; Minority; Nehemiah Justice Center; Shame; South Carolina; Trans Community

Partial Transcript: Jack MacCarthy:
Yeah. That's so huge, having it be community led. This is a really big question, but what's your relationship like with God these days?

Robert Arrington:
Well, the thing is, oh, it is a big question. I'm always gonna have a relationship with God. I came up with mothers with a relationship with God. I'm called by God. God is both the father and all of the above to me. I also am not only a Reverend, a pastor, a teacher, a activist, I'm also a seer. A seer is similar to a prophet, I have prophetic gifts. My relationship is not damaged. It has been rocky. I have refused to talk to her and he, but I'm really good. I mean, two years ago, after my spouse of 17 years walked out, left me with another person, who literally was grabbing the stuff, moving out the house, I was kinda questioning God. I was like, you know, this ain't making a whole lot of sense. You sent me down here. I got a help, I had a bunch of people attack me, got people crazy, and now my husband leaves. It's been interesting, but my relationship is stronger than anything. I wouldn't be able to hold on to the house, take care of the dog and everything else.

Jack MacCarthy:
It seems like there's a dominant attitude in Charleston that being spiritual, being connected to God and being lesbian or gay or bisexual or trans, like that, people see those at odds with each other. I feel like I'm hearing you say that part of your mission, the mission that God has given you is to release those people from that shame and give them what they need.

Robert Arrington:
Correct.

Jack MacCarthy:
Yeah. Do you see being LGBT as incidental to a connection to God? Do you see it as part of a connection to God?

Robert Arrington:
The thing is, I really don't understand that a little bit, but what I can relate on, one of the blessings that happened a couple of years ago, a young lady named Mo Gina, I think she called herself Mocha Regina, she separated because when I moved to Charleston, they started their first Pride, but that Pride was really Caucasian, and it was towards the Caucasian people. It was doing boogy, if I can be nice, events, things that we can't go to because I don't have money to go to things like that. Gina started Charleston Black Pride. That's kind of opened up the door, because she's a millenia, she's doing things I can't. We do work a little bit together, but the pandemic has just unraveled everything. When she did that, I saw hope for Unity Fellowship Church, and the Nehemiah justice center.

Jack MacCarthy:
I just want to check in, because you said to check in with you in 20 minutes. How's your back doing? Do you need to get up and walk around? We've got about half an hour left.

Robert Arrington:
All right. If I can just move around for like … Give me 10 minutes so I can walk back and forth in the hallway and then come back in. It would be really good.

Jack MacCarthy:
Yeah. That sounds great. Let's do that. All right.

Keywords: Activist; Charleston Black Pride; Christianity; God; LGBTQ Identity; Pastor; Relationship; Relationship With God; Religion; Reverend; Seer; Spirituality; Teacher

Partial Transcript: Jack MacCarthy:
I wanted to ask you more about what you see as the work to be done in Charleston? Let's just start with the HIV and AIDS community, what do you think needs to happen for people in Charleston who are HIV positive? What do they need?

Robert Arrington:
Well, let me say one thing about this. When I moved to Charleston, I will never forget this, because I was very aggressive and I had to tone it down a little bit. I came in like Malcolm X and Martin Luther king mixed together. I’ll never forget that my initial getting into community, which is still hard, but I was talking and I was like, “Hey, I’m Reverend Robert Arrington, I moved here, I'm openly gay and I'm also HIV positive.” I watched everyone just shift from smiling to like ... After that I was told, “You're not going to make it here. You just don't go around telling people, especially you HIV positive.” The other thing was, with me, after I started getting out, I've been in the newspaper maybe once and twice, my ex and me, and a former church member, one who passed away, my first member who died. Been in the newspaper and everything, and this young man saw me at an organization, which most of all of color go, especially gay males. He wanted to talk to me. Now, he took me out of the building, and I was like, I hope you're not hitting on me because I'm married. But it wasn't that, he took me four buildings down to get away, so people would not see me talking to him, to ask about how I'm living with HIV. He just found out. I went back to my car and cried that that young man could not talk to me in the building or outside the building, because what happens some people run in that building. Now, they changed the name of the building so that it wouldn't have that look, but it's still called the AIDS house. What that’s saying, it’s still a stigma here. I guess one of the things, I'm an obstacle of the church, because right now, I'm the “only open gay” African-American pastor in Charleston. There's no other sissy running around looking like me and telling you he's HIV positive. There's a stigma with HIV. I've done two funerals of two individuals, one who I fell in love with, was only 21 years old, did not get tested in time, found out, still denied it. Didn't want to tell his family because there’s stigma with it, and he died, a horrible death. There's so much work to do here. I know I'm 61, I got health problems, but I'm determined to do this until my big boss takes me out of this body and I return back to spirit, which I came from.

Jack MacCarthy:
What do you think it's going to take to change that stigma?

Robert Arrington:
Well, the thing is long-term HIV people are no longer talking. HIV is not even talked about now, it's just pop a pill and you're going to be okay. I've been undetectable now, Hallelujah, going almost 11 years. When they see long-term people like me, well, I had one guy tell me, “Well, if I get it, I could just live as long as you can.” That question, it's going to be years, it's going to be a long time before people feel comfortable of their HIV status and everything else. That is going to be evolving elephant in the room that is going to slowly be moved out.

Keywords: AIDS; AIDS Community; AIDS House; African-American Pastor; Charleston; Church; Gay Pastor; HIV; HIV Community; HIV Positive; HIV Status; Long-Term HIV; South Carolina; Stigma

Partial Transcript: Jack MacCarthy:
What do you think it's going to take to change the racism and the homophobia in Charleston?

Robert Arrington:
I don't know. Maybe it's going to take a Moses experience where a burning bush comes down, and I don't know where that. I don't know if you know, in 2015, we had a tragedy here where nine people got killed by roof, and it still breaks my heart. I really found out how much the good old boys and the good old girls did not embrace me because I went to the pastor’s funeral, I showed at some events, and was kind of very much shy, a little bit. Matter of fact, one of the pastors came and I introduced myself. He looked over at the other pastor and he said, “Oh, you're that one?” And I said, “Yes,” and he smiled. The racism, it's a history, it's in the air. It's going to take a long time. The homophobic is going to take people like Gina who started the Charleston Black Pride, is going to take Robert Arrington that keeps doing interviews, getting in people's face, and let them know that God loves you just as you are. And I'm gay. I'm blessed. I haven't gone to hell. I've been in ministry for 28 years.

Keywords: Charleston; Homophobia; Racism; South Carolina

Partial Transcript: Jack MacCarthy:
There was something that you mentioned in your pre-interview questionnaire that I wasn't sure what you meant, so I wanted to make sure to ask you about it, about overcoming labels. What do you mean by overcoming labels?

Robert Arrington:
Sorry about that. I tried to tell Tom, my handwriting is horrible. I learned in my thirties, from a doctor, that I was originally supposed to be writing with my left hand. I guess my family made me start writing, so my hand is writing. I'm writing a book about everything that I discussed with you. I'm at the end, and it's rough because I'm talking about the way my marriage ended, and the struggles with the ministry. The labels, I am an individual and my [inaudible] I close eyes, is to help people remove labels. I have label, label. I was labeled as retarded. I was labeled as sickly. I was labeled as weird. I was labeled, labeled, labeled, labeled. In the 61 years, which is going to be in my book, it's about removing labels. Labels is very mad, very crazy. That's why, to be honest, when I looked at your profile and looked at your organization, I saw the pronouns, I said, “Ah,” because I even feel like pronouns is a label. I don't even call myself gay. I have a long word that people look like and say, “Can you just, please, say, ‘gay’? That's too long.” That's what labels is. I think we froze again.

Keywords: Label; Pronouns

Partial Transcript: Jack MacCarthy:
You froze for me, but I think I got the gist of it. I'm moving a little quickly and not as many transitions between things, just because I want to get to these things in the last 15 minutes we have. There were three people that you said you wanted to talk about the impact that they've had on the LGBTQ community. You've mentioned Carl Bean, but I also wanted to talk about Bishop Thomas Harris. Can you just talk about that a little bit?

Robert Arrington:
Oh, Lord! Y'all do know everything about me. Okay. Bishop Thomas Harris is someone who I call my spiritual father. He has been a rock. He is one of the bishops in our movement, recently a Bishop, was a pastor, he's retired in the Baltimore church. Bishop Thomas is the one who embraced me, even when I came in looking crazy, being Bobby. He is one who has, and definitely two years ago, he was my rock, my counsel, when my spouse decided to leave. Bishop Thomas has his health issues, still has his health issues. But he's someone who I love. Like I said, that was the first pamper that I got from his deacon who talked about the Baltimore church.

Jack MacCarthy:
You also mentioned Gina Manoa. I know, I know Gina Mocha goes by lots of different names. Is this the same Gina?

Robert Arrington:
Yes.

Keywords: Bishop; Love; Spirituality

Partial Transcript: Jack MacCarthy:
Okay. Got it. You've touched on this a little bit, but I wanted to ask, what advice or words of wisdom would you give to LGBTQ folks who are coming of age today?

Robert Arrington:
Well, one of the things I will say to them is, because I'm proudly uncle of a very out niece who is a lesbian, and I paved the way, I took the bumps from her, what I would say to around her age, she's 26, and to anyone else is, first and foremost, don't let anyone force you into marriage, force you into a closet. I had to walk away from my family. I was separated from my family for many years, to live completely as Bobby to Robert. Just live life, and understand that life is going to give you some bad, use wisdom. Understand that your voice has power. To my community, and even to my heterosexual community, if you're labeled with disabilities like sickness, like I am, and you have learning problems, you can do it, I've done it. That's one of the beautiful things I'm going to walk in this universe is, everything that they told me that I could not be. I am.

Keywords: Advice; Closet; Disability Community; Heterosexual Community; Marriage; Pave The Way; Voice; Words Of Wisdom

Partial Transcript: Jack MacCarthy:
That's beautiful, by the way, I feel like I needed to hear that today. These last few questions we ask to everyone we interview. Do you believe in the notion of an LGBTQ superpower and if so, what do you think it is?

Robert Arrington:
Hmm, repeat that one more time.

Jack MacCarthy:
Do you believe that there's a super power that LGBTQ people have? And if so, what is it?

Robert Arrington:
Yeah. I'm gonna have to sit with that one because, matter of fact, this coming Sunday is Pentecost Sunday and I'm kind of preaching about superheroes, and that's why I was like, okay, did I hear what you just said? But I'm preaching about divine superheroes and super power. But I believe that even to Stonewall, which I had a pleasure of going to New York, which I didn't have the opportunity when I was growing up to go to stonewall. I had to go down there, and there's an energy, there's a power when you go into that building. I think the beautiful thing that I know from the history, even the man who was helping Dr. Martin Luther king, we have this power that when we step into the universe and undeniably walk in our truth and our beings without any shame or anything else, like I walk in the universe, that there is this power. I don't know the name, what it is, but when we gather, the earth stops. People listen. Things happen. From New York to San Francisco to LA, my Archbishop, Carl Bean, is one who, not only had that superpower that you’re talking about, but he had a divine superpower and mixed with that, he started a movement 30-some years, found people like me, took them off the street, put us in positions. I believe that we do have a power and I believe many LGBTQ, and I'm getting used to this word right now, queer, has a power that they do not know that they hold.

Keywords: Energy; LGBTQ; LGBTQ Community; LGBTQ Superpower; New York; Power; Queer Community; Queer Superpower; Stonewall

Partial Transcript: Jack MacCarthy:
Yeah, absolutely. I think people are starting to know it, but yeah. You've touched on this as well, but why is it important you to share your story?

Robert Arrington:
Well, one of the things is, I wish I had it here so I can grab it, it's on in my living room, on my floor. We need to tell our stories. Other people will tell our stories, but not tell our stories the way we are because we lived our stories. Everyone is a walking navigator, they tell their story, they're walking stories. Also on the spiritual side, we are all walking gospels. We all have gospel. The gospel doesn’t end the 66 books of the Bible. I want people to know my story because I want some young male or female or whatever gender, faith, to hear my story. That's why I'm trying my little best to finish my book and get the help that I can do to get it. That's why I really want to get this out, the book, so other people can be enforced that you can be gay, you can be a pastor. If you got sickness, like I have a list of health issues, you can do it. I think it's important. Archbishop, Carl Bean, wrote his book because he wanted people to know his story [inaudible]. I think it's important, just like we have books on Dr. Martin Luther king and so many other great people. We need to tell stories. Our stories is important. That's the reason why I went through all of this interesting process to do this interview with you, because anytime anybody wants to hear this sissy, I get on here and I say, “Okay, let's talk.”

Keywords: AIDS; Author; Book; Gay; Gospel; HIV; HIV Positive; Pastor; Sickness; Spirituality; Stories; Storytelling

Partial Transcript: Jack MacCarthy:
Excellent. Robert, is there anything we didn't cover that you'd like some time to talk about?

Robert Arrington:
Well, I do want to say this, and I thought about it because some of my talk about Charleston and everything is maybe not so much on the positive, but I have had awards. Gina from Charleston Black Pride gave me an award for my work in the community. College of Charleston gave me award, because I was one of their speakers at the diversity. I think what I really just want to say is, Charleston has a long way to go, but it is possible. I think the second thing is, which I would like to leave OUTWORDS is, this has given me more power and the ability, starting next week, to really get at this computer and finish my book. I'm really excited about my book. I just want people to be spiritual beings living their life in any way they have to. It's been really rough here in Charleston for me, financially and everything else, but again, I am really blessed. October the 11th, I've been almost 37 years HIV positive. I think that's just basically saying that there is a rainbow on the other side. Hopefully, one day, yet that I have gone through a rough 17 years, and ending, I am looking forward to remarrying and find someone, the right one. That's basically it.

Jack MacCarthy:
That's beautiful. Thank you. I think that's everything. Yeah. I did want to share a quote with you, it's one of my favorite quotes, and this was on what I was asking about before with that connection between queerness and connection to God. I just wanted to read this to you which is, this is from a book called Something That May Shock and Discredit You by Daniel Lavery, who's a trans guy who grew up very religious, he’s a preacher, and he says, “As my friend, Julian puts it only half-winkingly, God blessed me by making me transsexual for the same reason God made wheat but not bread, and fruit but not wine, so that humanity might share in the act of creation.” I just wanted to share that, because I personally like my relationship to spirituality, I see queerness as divine. I just wanted to share that with you.

Robert Arrington:
The thing is, when you was reading, I was thinking about it is, because in our belief system, in our movement, that God is not gender. God has not male, not female. I don't believe in Adam and Eve, I believe that there was one human being and that human being was the image of God, and it multiplied after the fall into these different genders and everything else. One of the things that we definitely are in the movement, and one of my beliefs is, every day, I look at myself in the mirror, I see God. When you get there, you see the God of your understanding. Kristie sees the God of her understanding. That's a beautiful thing is, that we are not bound to what we are. I'm just blessed to be a gay man. I cannot speak of being transgender or non-binary, I just know who I am.

Jack MacCarthy:
Yeah. That very much resonates with me. Yeah. well thank you some for your time and for sharing your story with us, it's really, really such an honor. It's been such a pleasure having this conversation with you today. I'm going log off so that Kristie can wrap up all the tech things she needs to.

Keywords: Awards; Blessings; Book; Charleston Black Pride; College of Charleston; Diversity; Gender; God; HIV Positive; Human Being; Queerness; Spirituality

Partial Transcript: Jack MacCarthy:
So much. Yes to all of that. The last question is what is the value of a project like OUTWORDS that records the stories of LGBTQ pioneers and elders across America? Use the word OUTWORDS in your answer. If you could.

Robert Arrington:
OUTWORDS?

Jack MacCarthy:
That's who we are. Yeah.

Robert Arrington:
Okay. I know that's who you are. I was trying to get a little gist of what you was asking me.

Jack MacCarthy:
Yeah. What's the value of a project like OUTWORDS?

Robert Arrington:
Well, the beautiful thing is, I didn't have many interviews and everything else, but the hugest thing here in Charleston is the college of Charleston has a LGBTQ archive that they put people in, similar to OUTWORDS, like you, and I'm not only there on there once, but I am on it twice, because they did something on the church. I think organizations like this is important for the archive of many people who is unknown. I was freaked away because when Tom went down about my drag and my everything, I'm like, okay, do y'all have a camera in my house or how you get all this information? I think that this is important for someone who's walking around, thinking that what they're doing in the universe is not important and OUTWORDS gives them an opportunity to tell their story.

Jack MacCarthy:
Thank you so much for that. I'm going to check in with Kristie. Kristie, did you have any questions that you wanted to ask Robert?

Kristie Taiwo-Makanjuola
No, I think you guys covered it all. Thank you.

Keywords: Charleston; LGBTQ Archive; LGBTQ Community; LGBTQ History; OUTWORDS; Oral History; Storytelling