Interview with Sean Strub, founder of Poz magazine

In the new book Amy Ferris and I co-edited, Dancing at the Shame Prom, twenty seven brave women share deeply personal stories of a shame that held them back, and how they became empowered by letting it go. This book is only the beginning of an ongoing movement. We plan to continue this conversation in workshops around the world (Woodstock NY this October, San Miguel, Mexico Feb 2013, Costa Rica, June, 2013) Amy and I plan to drag shame out of the closet and eradicate it from the planet. In order to do that, we need to bring men into the conversation.  In the next few months, we'll be featuring a series of interviews with some very interesting men.

Below is my interview with Sean Strub, filmmaker, author, activist, founder of POZ magazine ( for the HIV positive community) and Mamm magazine (for women impacted by breast and gynecological cancers). Sean's accomplishments are too many to list here,  so I included his bio at the bottom. Here are his thoughts.

Can you tell us a little bit about your life path, and what led you to it?

I grew up Catholic in Iowa, influenced by the social justice tradition in the church, as well as civic-minded feminists on my paper route, and became an activist at early age, protesting the Vietnam War, advocating feminism and progressive causes and, eventually, LGBT rights.  Most of my adult life I've been engaged in the HIV/AIDS epidemic; I acquired HIV around 1980, when I was 22.

How do you, personally, define the word shame?

Shame is a secret we carry that hurts oneself more than it hurts others.  Shame doesn't exist on its own; it is a symptom of the mind's management of trauma.

Women seem to carry shame, and let it make them small in the world. Do you think men process or carry shame differently than women?

I'm not very good about generalizing differences between men and women, but I think there are many different ways people carry shame, or how it gets expressed in their life.  How shame is managed is important, so I suspect there are lessons to be learned from all genders.

In your experience, how does shame affect the men in our society?

Traditional constructs of masculinity, whether expressed by a men, women, trans or intersexed persons, carry expectations about what constitutes shame.  It seems that at times the most acceptable masculine emotion is around anger, dominance or violence; these are outward expressions of a deeper inner pain that has often (and destructively) been repressed by expected masculine norms.

The women who wrote for Dancing at the Shame Prom are role models and leaders in society. Many of them became successful either in spite of, or because of, the shame they carried. In other words, they were able to turn poison into medicine. Has Shame played a role in your own life, and in setting you on your life path?

Enormously so.  My entire life has been a struggle over my physical corpus, my body, and how it was violated as a child. The traumas I experienced (namely, but not entirely, physical and sexual abuse) were more defining to my character, life and accomplishments than anything else.  Whether it is about sexual freedoms, reproductive choice, combating a virus, shaking off Catholicism, they all ultimately boil down to who is in charge here, who is making the decisions that so profoundly affect my body.   My lifelong commitment to social justice activism was shaped to a large degree by traumas, and this sense of a lack of control over my body, that I experienced as a child.  Trauma, whether it is from physical, psychological or sexual abuse at the hands of another, or whether it is from an incident or life transition, like the loss of a loved one, divorce, serious accident or even loss of a job or relationship, is shame's evil twin. Where there is one, if you dig deep enough, you'll usually find the other.

Can shame ever be a good thing?

Per my previous answer, I would turn it around and ask can trauma ever be a good thing?  One of the most wonderful aspects of being is our remarkable ability to learn from every kind of experience in life and, if we're looking for it, we can usually make sure some of the things we learn are good things.  So shame isn't something I would recommend, nor would I recommend trauma, but they are both parts of every life.  I don't think anyone exits this mortal coil without having experienced them to some degree.  How we react to and handle them is what is important.

We can also impose shame on ourselves, in reaction to specific acts or attitudes, but even those are typically underlain by traumas that make our minds work the way they work, which makes us do the things we do.

What is on your personal “dream-agenda” for the future?

Recognizing greed as a disease that should be treated as a mental health condition.  Requiring all students to be continuously enrolled from K through 12 in ethics, civics, art, music, nutrition and sustainable gardening classes.

Amy Ferris and I thank you so much for participating, Sean, for your thoughtful answers, and mostly for the work you do in the world.

Take a few minutes to watch Sean's short film, HIV Is Not a Crime.

See seroproject.com for more info on Sean's work.

Sean's BIO:
Sean Strub is well known as an activist, writer and entrepreneur. Sean has founded many successful fundraising, publishing and marketing organizations, virtually all in support of progressive social change efforts. He founded POZ in 1994. Strub's companies have also launched POZ en Español, Mamm (for women impacted by breast and gynecological cancers) and Milford Magazine (a regional title distributed in the Delaware River Highlands area of northeast Pennsylvania).

He has written extensively on corporate social responsibility, smart growth and land development issues, direct marketing and AIDS, among other topics. Sean co-authored, with Dan Baker and Bill Henning, Cracking The Corporate Closet, (Harper Business, 1995) and co- authored, with Steve Lydenberg and Alice Tepper Marlin, the seminal guide to corporate social responsibility, Rating America's Corporate Conscience, (Addison-Wesley, 1987).

Sean's involvement in the social responsibility and ethical investment movements dates to the early 1980's, when he worked with Alumni Against Apartheid and the Harvard Endowment for Divestiture through his direct marketing firm which specialized in social change and mass marketed fundraising techniques. Direct mail campaigns created by Sean have been labeled "slick" by The Wall Street Journal, "highly sophisticated" by The New York Times, and "inventive and unusual" by Business Week.

Strub has also produced theatre and large-scale fundraising events. In 1992, at the Perry Street Theatre in New York, he debuted his production of The Night Larry Kramer Kissed Me, written by and starring David Drake. The Obie Award-winning hit became one of the longest running one-person Off-Broadway shows ever.

In 1990, Strub was a Democratic candidate for the US Congress from New York's 22nd congressional district, running as an openly (but incidentally) gay/HIV+ man. He was defeated by a former member of Congress by fewer than 600 votes.

He has received numerous awards and honors from AIDS organizations, community and professional groups, including the 1995 AIDS Action Foundation's National Leadership Award, the 1996 Cielo Latino Companero award from the Latino Commission on AIDS and Los Angeles-based Being Alive's Spirit of Hope award in 1997.

A native Iowan, Sean attended Georgetown and Columbia Universities. He lives in Milford, Pennsylvania and New York City.

The Stories I Don't Tell

It’s funny that I’m co-editing a book on shame, because if you’d asked me a few years ago, I’d have said I was a shameless woman. What I mean by that is I don’t have a lot of regret. I made some mistakes when I was young, but that’s what youth is for. I feel good about my life in general. And yet…

There were some things I just never talked about. That’s what interests me now: the things we don’t talk about. Shame is the part of your story that you don’t tell. You may not dwell on it, but it dwells in you.

For instance, all my life, I tried to push away from the truth of who I was and what I came from. In the Shame Prom, I write about the fact that I was an unwanted pregnancy, born to two juvenile delinquents. My father was in jail when I was born, and would end up spending my entire childhood in prison. My mother, a 16-year old rebel, became a single mom who worked nights in bars. We used food stamps to buy our groceries.

But I wanted to be a Brady Bunch kid. I was a cheerleader. I wore the right clothes. I got good grades. Not until the last several years, after I wrote my memoir, did I start talking about my history. In denying that part of my reality, I became a fractured woman plagued by anxiety attacks and fear. Once I finally claimed that part of my story, it no longer held power over me. It freed me in ways I couldn’t have imagined, and opened new doors in my life.

I remember when Rob Lowe’s big sex tape scandal broke in the 90’s. Soon after, he was on Saturday Night Live, poking fun at himself over it. He never made excuses or tried to hide it. Suddenly, no one cared anymore. He claimed his shame, and it no longer had power over him. Look at him now- successful career, happy marriage and family. When you claim your truth, you take away the blackmailer’s power. YOU hold the power.

So that’s what this Shame Prom movement is all about. So far our Shame Prom writers have turned in gorgeous essays about the stories they never told:

Elizabeth Geitz, an Episcopal Priest and leader of her community, reveals her shame over her mother’s suicide

Kristine Van Raden comes to terms with the mother-guilt of her daughter’s eating disorder, and her daughter, Kate, writes a companion piece

Laurenne Sala struggles with her teenage shame over her gay dad

Julie Silver recounts the day she was banished from her loving community, and how she found redemption

Robyn Hatcher tells a fascinating story about carrying the shame of her race

Rachel Kramer Bussell, an erotica writer who would appear to be shameless, tells her  secret – she is a hoarder

If you think you don’t carry any shame, ask yourself…are their parts of my story I leave out? Parts of my history I’d rather not talk about?

There are for me.

Everyone knows I’m married to a wonderful man for 22 years, but few people know I had a previous failed marriage.

And no one, I mean NO ONE knows what I am about to reveal to you now, for it is perhaps my greatest shame ever.

In 1982, I voted for Reagan. If you defriend me on facebook right now, I’ll understand. I just couldn’t hold it in any longer.

So friends, this is what our mission is about, and Amy and I want you join us. Let’s get it all out, free ourselves, connect with each other, support each other, celebrate all we have survived and the strong women and men we are.

Let’s move from Shame-full to Shame-less.

What is Shame?

image courtesy of  shamelessmag.com/

One of my favorite quotes by Julia Cameron is this: “Anger is meant to be acted upon, not acted out.” So simple, and so true.  This statement alone has helped me navigate so many difficult situations in my life. When I begin to feel angry about something, I think…wow, there is something I need to act upon here. My boundaries are being crossed, I’m hurt, I need to speak up and establish my boundaries clearly. If I don’t, I will carry that anger, and it will be projected onto people who don’t deserve it.

And so it is with shame. Shame, like every emotion we have, is there to send us a message. It is an emotion that initially that tells us “this isn’t right for me”. At times, it can be good for us- it acts as our conscience. We stole from the corner market, we feel ashamed (this isn’t right for me) and we don’t do it again. We’ve hurt someone unnecessarily, we bullied someone…we feel shame, act upon it ( apologize, discontinue the behavior) let it go, and move forward. When we act upon it, we are enlightened and changed by the experience. When we don’t, we either turn inward against ourselves, or project our shame onto others.

When we carry negative emotions like shame, fear, anger, regret, jealousy, the weight of it wears us down. It steals our joy, sabotages relationships, even weakens our immune system. When held inside, each of these emotions picks up a partner. Fear’s partner is paralysis. Anger’s partners are suppression and rage. Regret’s partner is worthlessness. Jealousy’s partner is criticism (of self and others). And Shame’s partner is silence. It is miraculous how your life can shift by letting go of that “partner”.

Letting go of Shame’s partner is as simple as breaking the silence. 

It is the carrying of Shame that Amy Ferris and I would like to eradicate from this planet, through sharing stories in our anthology The Shame Prom, and in our workshops.

Dancing at the Shame Prom Website

The Shame Prom

Shame is a ball and chain around your soul that keeps you from living an authentic life. When you keep it buried deep inside you, it saps your energy, steals your joy.

Amy Ferris and I have been talking a lot about this, and decided this is the year we release ours. We decided it would be a bit less scary to write about it together, you know- hold hands and jump off the cliff Thelma and Louise-style (but we expect a much better outcome). She said “What if we call it our shame prom?” I knew right where she was going.

Yes, I said, a shame prom. Let’s parade it out in public, dance it around on our arm. Let’s take awkward pictures with it. But afterward, let’s not roll around in the backseat making out with it any more. Let’s break up with it.

So here is my shame:

Inside, I feel like a colossal failure. A total loser.

Where this affects me the most is in my career.

There were many years I worked in the corporate world, and earned good money. I even carried the financial burden while Troy built up his music career. But after that …it’s a joke. Not that I haven’t been doing things, or having a career. I ran my own nonprofit organization for seven years, and it was successful. But I didn’t get paid. I’ve worked as a singer for almost 20 years, but if I lived on that income alone I’d be on welfare. My albums were a total loss. I had a clothing business that built up to some national success, but… it burned down and I went bankrupt.

So why am I such a terrible earner? I had a realization the other day, talking to my neighbor. She makes beautiful handmade quilts, and now that she’s out of a job, she was thinking of selling them but felt kind of awkward about it, at which point I gave her this advice:

“Why should you feel bad about selling them? Money is just a symbol of gratitude, one that says I value your work. Why shouldn’t you let others value the work you do?”

And of course I caught myself. Hellooooo??? Look who’s talkin’!

I realized that, dammit, no matter how much work I’ve done on myself, there is this message so deeply imprinted in me that I am not valuable. It started with the fact that I was an unwanted pregnancy and without going into detail let’s just say my childhood experiences continued to validate that feeling. I absorbed and believed it before I was old enough to even understand it. I know better now. I know I have value to add to the world, but I haven’t been able to shake that tattoo on my soul-“Unwanted”.

So no, I am not surprised that my book hasn’t sold, that I have no gigs booked for this year. If I don’t see myself as valuable, how will anyone else? I am truly embarrassed that I am this way. I want to be better.

It’s time for me to redesign that soul tattoo. I have no idea how, but I thought admitting this defect would help me to see that maybe I’m not the only one. Maybe we can all figure this out together.

The love from my husband, children and friends has healed me in so many ways, but I still have much work to do on myself. It will most likely be a lifelong project, correcting what was broken in my foundation. I’m going to start by praying about it, and reaffirming the good things in my life, and giving myself some credit for the valuable things I’ve done. That’s a start.

Like my real prom, I’d like to leave the Shame prom in my rearview mirror.

(Here is AMY FERRIS' story)

Shame, shame, shame. (Sounds just like an Aretha Franklin song doesn't it?)

I'm wearing it on my sleeve, right next to my lovely floral corsage.

I am carrying the shame of believing, "It's all my fault, I did something wrong, so I deserve this sadness and pain and suffering. And I have to make it better. And I need to apologize for whatever it is I did that made someone angry, bitter, hateful, mean."

THIS IS MY DEEP SHAME.

This (incorrect) belief system originated many, many years ago, when I would come home from a friend's house, or school and I would be crying because my friend and I had a fight, or something happened in school, and I would be sobbing and my mother would say: "Amy, what did YOU do?" And of course, I would immediately feel smaller, sadder, less than. Invisible. Unimportant. Discarded. I would feel horrible. It was my fault. And of course I would feel as if nothing I did was good enough or worthy. So i was always trying to fix the problem. Always. I always felt i had to fix something, make something better, mend it, repair it. Apologize. And I would do whatever i could to make it better, to make it right, because I believed it was my fault.

And, I never, ever felt better. I just felt more invisible and powerless. I felt completely and utterly unimportant. And good god, if I didn't do something to make it better, I would be alone. That scared me to death. Being left behind, forgotten. Holy shit, did that scare me.

And now that feeling, that "OH MY GOD WHAT DID I DO?", is rearing it's god awful, guilty, fearful ugly head again. It has a lot to do with the loss of my relationship with my brother, and the loss of the spiritual, or more truthfully, "Religious" organization i belonged to for many, many, many (35) years. The feeling of I need to do something, fix something, mend something, make it better. Repair it. MAKE. IT. WORK. MAKE. IT. BETTER. MAKE. IT. RIGHT.

But the other much more enlightened piece of me, another part of me says: STOP IT. Not your fault. There are many sides. It's not just you. You were mistreated, betrayed, treated badly. Discarded. STOP IT. YOU DON'T NEED TO FIX THIS, OR MAKE THIS BETTER. You don't need this person's love, approval, acceptance.

It's hard - excruciating - for me to see that, accept that, to understand and believe that 'truth.'

And so there in lies the battle.

And trust me, it is a huge battle. An internal battle. I can feel it right in my soul, in my solar plexis. I can. And in that battle is a whole lot of shit: guilt, fear, self-doubt, retreating, self-criticism, pain.

SHAME. SHAME. SHAME.

But... I'm pretty sure this is the moment where i get to let go of that god awful misguided pain and incorrect belief system that began in that little girl, (and grew up in this woman) who believed that everything bad that happened was her doing, her fault, her problem to solve.

The old me: the one who feels that she has to make it better, APOLOGIZE, shrink. Ask for forgiveness. It's all her fault. The one who seeks approval, needs permission.

The new me: the one who feels it's time to move on, let go, FORGIVE MYSELF, be big, release the guilt and doubt and self-defeat. To save my own life. To take responsibility for my life. To take charge. To stop looking for permission.

And yes, it's easier said than done. Much fucking easier. After all, it took years to get here.

But I know it's the right time to be here. At this place. At this 'Shame Prom,' it's time to stop the self-slander, the self doubt. The self-loathing, and yes, it's time to let the flower on the corsage bloom, and let the "shame bud" die out.

The Truth Whisperer

My husband and I have a nickname for our friend Erin. We call her the “Anger Handler”. If Erin is your friend and someone has ever done something to hurt you, all you need do is tell her the grievous nature of this attack, and then let go. When I do this with her, she gets ten times angrier that I’d ever allow myself to be, ranting and raving about this horrible person and all the ways she should meet her doom. The funny thing is it polarizes me. Erin is so angry at said perpetrator, there isn’t any room, nor need, for me to be angry. My husband Troy and I joke about how we want to make some popcorn, sit back and watch Erin “handle” our anger for us, now and then commenting…”Yeah, yeah, that’s a good one. I should have said that. What else you got?” As if suddenly we are voyeurs into our own crisis. She could do a stand up act. Just let the audience members throw any story at her of how they were done wrong, and then let her at it. I’m telling you, it would sell out! Everyone could use an anger handler!

In my own way, I guess that’s what I’m trying to do with truth. We’ve had a lot of dramarama in our lives the past six months, and my husband doesn’t really want to talk to people about it. He’s really kind of embarrassed by it. But me? I hang my dirty laundry out on the line for the whole world to see. Call it a strange obsession, a birth defect maybe. I don’t know. I was born to tell it like it is. I give voice to some dark things. I’m learning through the comments and feedback I get that these are things others might feel, but never say out loud. So I do it for them, much to the chagrin of my husband. I’m in training to be a “Truth Whisperer”. I’ll say the scary ugly stuff you don’t want to say…and you can go make some popcorn. : )

People have commented how brave I am to tell the truth, how hard that must be. But here’s the secret - it’s actually easy. What’s hard is trying to project an image that I have it all together, that I’m not insecure, neurotic, damaged, confused, afraid. It is unbelievably liberating to tell the truth.

So here are a few “truths” for today:

I’m forty six years old.

I’m terrified of aging.

I doubt myself as a parent.

I often feel like a failure.

I worry in the middle of the night, which leads to pacing the house “checking” things…windows, doors, electrical outlets

I’ve struggled with anxiety and depression all throughout my life.

I’m vain.

I’ve been estranged from my mother’s side of the family for seven years, which feels like a colossal failure

I’m cynical and jaded but want to get back to hopeful

I watch reruns of Everybody Loves Raymond.

There, I’ve said it.

(Can I get a witness on any of the above?)

And you know what happens after I release it? I am lighter. I think to myself…yeah so I’m damaged and imperfect….so what. It’s really not that big a deal. I’ve gotten the scary stuff out and made room inside to feel all the good things that want to occupy space in my heart instead. Love, gratitude, joy….

So this is my mission: to be a Truth Whisperer and encourage others to do the same. I’m telling you, it’s not that bad once you get used to it, so jump in – the water’s fine!

Come on…I double dog dare ya!