Campbell Johnstone has come out as the All Blacks’ first gay player. The rugby union team was established 131 years ago. The rugby sevens team was established 50 years ago. In that time, only one male player has come out as gay. That speaks to how difficult itis for gay men to play rugby in New Zealand. Despite not subscribing to the concept of coming out myself, Johnstone’s coming out is heart-warming.
I hated my first two years of high school. Physical education classes were compulsory in years 9 and 10. I was the only feminine kid in my Year 10 all-boys PE class. I stood out like a sore thumb. The homophobia started when some rugby boys started describing negative or uncool things as “gay”. I didn’t understand how someone’s illegible handwriting or someone spending their recess break finishing their assignment could be gay, but it caught on quickly.
Things got worse when I had to play sports with those boys. The boys in the team my teacher put me in threw a fit. Hearing them complain about me being on their team filled me with guilt. I was by no means the weakest. I was a few centimetres short of 2m tall, and I was fast. But I was gay, and no one wanted the feminine gay kid on their team.
One day I went into the gym’s changing room, and I heard one boy say to another, “Look, your boyfriend is here,” before they all started laughing. At that moment, not only did I feel ashamed, I felt afraid. Just looking at these boys could result in a beating. Being gay somehow meant I was attracted to all men or that I was asking for it. I tried to do everything to avoid being in the gym or the proximity of the rugby boys from then.
I found PE so terrifying I started writing notes, pretending to be my parents. I wrote to my PE teacher that I could not partake in swimming classes because I was too traumatised to swim after my uncle drowned. I was lying, but my PE teacher was merely tolerating me. He never told the rugby boys it was not okay to be homophobic. His job would’ve been easier if I weren’t around. He didn’t verify the letter, so I got out of swimming classes. Changing in the gym with the rugby boys was hellish enough. There was no way I would get shirtless in a pool full of them.
I was made to feel like I did not belong, that I couldn’t play sports and that I was a creep. I hadn’t wrapped my head around my sexuality at the time. It was very confusing to be ostracised for wanting to be a part of the team. It made me lonely. Hundreds of queer kids across New Zealand schools, just like me, will know what it feels like to be ostracised from sports because they don’t have the traditional masculine Kiwi bloke persona.
Junior All Blacks front row, from left: Campbell Johnstone, Corey Flynn and John Schwalger in action against Manu Samoa. Photo / Dean Purcell
There must have been many gay men who have played as All Blacks but were never afforded the safety to come out. Just a few months ago, seven rugby players in Australia refused to play a game because they were asked to play in uniforms with a rainbow stripe, and Israel Folau blamed the Australian fires on gay men. Some rugby players have tried to make the sport unsafe for queer men.
Johnstone coming out helps an entire generation of queer people; all the young people who are questioning if they have a future in the sports they love, all the kids who think they cannot play sports because they’ll get bullied and all those who feel ostracised in PE because they are too feminine or feel anxious to sit through their health class because the students call anything negative or uncool gay.
For all the gay kids who feel too alone, too afraid, and too ashamed to play sports, Campbell says you can.
Shaneel Shavneel Lal (they/them) was instrumental in the bill to ban conversion therapy in New Zealand. They are a student, model and influencer.
