“I love it! I live in the Gayborhood and everything I could ever want is within a five-block radius. This place, Naked Chocolate, theater, music, good food, even a Tiffany’s … not that I would ever go there, but still. I could live here for the rest of my life and have access to everything I wanted.”
So says Alan Robarge, a new Philadelphian who’s been here a scant six weeks. His enthusiasm about the city is infectious and his ability to meet so many new friends in such a short time is impressive. I met up with Robarge at Absolute Abstract and spoke with him about his life, his work as a psychotherapist and what makes him a proud new Philadelphian.
PGN: Where are you from? AR: I moved here from Denver, Colo., but I was born in Ohio. I’ve lived in several places from New York to Chicago.
PGN: Where in Ohio were you born? AR: Rising Sun, Ohio. A small town, population 500. I left when I turned 18 to move to New York. People ask me if it was culture shock and I tell them that, being who I am, it was culture shock living in a town with 500 people for 18 years.
PGN: What was family life like? AR: My mother was a schoolteacher for 30 years — she retired last year — and my father worked as a machinist in a spark-plug factory. He passed away when I was 14. I have a sister who’s three years older than me.
PGN: Did she treat you like a dress-up doll? AR: [Laughs.] She wasn’t really around, so I self-initiated dressing up! We actually have pictures of me in a slip and a wig. I also remember going over to my cousin’s house and getting all excited about painting her Barbie doll head. You know, those oversize Barbie heads that came with a make-up kit.
PGN: And how did machinist dad take to seeing his son in a slip? AR: I was an entertainer from the start, and I was young enough that they thought it was funny. I would lip sync to old K-tel albums.
PGN: Where did your urban flair come from? AR: I have no idea. Probably a past life!
PGN: What’s your best memory from back in rural Ohio? AR: [Long pause.] I just remember it being boring. Not my childhood — I had a good upbringing — but the place was boring. I think I managed to stay engaged through artwork. I was always painting and drawing and had several art projects. I enjoyed pursuing creative things.
PGN: Where did you go when you left? AR: I thought I left to go to school in New York, but I really left to be gay and I spent a lot of time discovering what that meant.
PGN: How did you decide how and where to figure things out? AR: Somehow, through television and the media, I figured that New York was the place where I could be myself. I had been non- or asexual for 18 years and, in New York, I came into my gay identity and looked to find myself. I transferred schools a lot. I started at Fordham and, for a period, I think I went to a new school every semester. And then I dropped out of school altogether so I could go gay full-time! Eventually, I went back to school.
PGN: What did you study? AR: I started out with liberal arts, pursuing a business track, then I went to Parsons School of Design, some marketing art program and then a host of others. I eventually graduated years later from the Columbia College of Chicago with a degree in nothing. Technically, it was a bachelor of arts degree in an undeclared major, but I like to call it a degree in nothing.
PGN: What was one of the most exciting things you remember about New York? AR: I’d go dancing at the Roxy every Thursday night for the Disco Interruptus parties. We’d wear costumes and, on Saturday nights, everyone would wear their wildest outfits. I felt like every night was Halloween, every night was Carnivàle. It was the early ’90s and I felt like something special was going down and I was a part of it. It was a vibrant time.
PGN: What was your worst outfit? AR: Probably a plain shirt and pants. I had read New York magazine all throughout high school and knew I always wanted to move there. My mother would run into people in downtown Rising Sun and they would tell her that I’d mentioned that I was going to school in New York. She’d come to me and say, “Alan, why are you telling people that?” and I’d say, “Because I am.” And then we’d go into a “No, you’re not/Yes, I am” thing. From reading New York magazines, I was aware of the club scene but when I first moved there, I was out for a walk one day and stumbled upon a club and, even though I was in my plain old street clothes, I figured I’d check it out. They wouldn’t let me in! That’s when I figured out I needed to get hip to get through the velvet rope. One night I wore some spandexy pants and a glitter shirt and this guy thought I was European. When I spoke English he was surprised and it made me feel good to create such a mysterious aura.
PGN: Do you remember your first kiss? AR: It was profound and exciting, but it also instantly connected to years of unacknowledged shame, so it had a bitter sweetness. Because even though the experience was wonderful, it was scary because it was the beginning of touching the edges of that shame that was buried deep inside.
PGN: Was that the start toward getting involved in your current career as a psychotherapist? AR: Not really. During that time, I managed the guilty feelings I had. Years later, I met a man in Chicago and we had a wonderful, passionate beginning that ended abruptly and left me torn apart. That triggered an incredible grief that cracked me open and made me confront my inner homophobia and other things. I came to the phrase, “I hate myself” and with the help of a good therapist, discovered a truth that was shocking and difficult to digest, but that led me eventually to the work that I do today, which is cultivating self -worth and self-kindness.
PGN: Where did you study? AR: Initially the work found me, which sounds esoteric but it’s the truth. In studying acting, I learned about power dynamics, text, subtext, motivation, body language — and they’re all foundational pieces of how I work as a therapist: uncovering truths amid the drama. I was going to therapy myself at the time and with friends, our conversations would naturally turn to healing talk. Or I’d be on a bus, and someone would say, “I don’t know why I’m telling you this but … ” I started to think about work as a therapist as a result of my natural ability to engage people, as well as my own desire to explore who we are, what’s the meaning of life, why are we doing certain things, etc. I studied contemplative psychotherapy at Naropa University in Boulder, Colo., which is based on Buddhist psychology and I got a degree in counseling psychology from Regis University in Denver. PGN: What is your clientele like? AR: It’s across the board: men, women, gay, straight, all types of people. They seem to break down mostly into two categories: the people who have had a life crisis or transition and have to go to a therapist because they need immediate help, and then the type of people who think everything is fine but just want more out of life. They feel something is missing and want to examine their lives. Therapy is a transitional process. You have one foot in the old life, of who you were, and one foot in your new life, who you are becoming. It’s managing the anxiety of letting go. A lot of times, acknowledging sexual orientation can be the change that brings you to that point — sometimes it’s women coming out of a marriage, sometimes it’s business owners or artists starting a new enterprise. It’s about trying to deepen and understand a new life. Psyche represents the butterfly in Greek culture, and so there’s a lovely analogy of the transformation from the caterpillar to the butterfly. The only people I don’t work with are couples or children.
PGN: So what made you choose Philadelphia? AR: I researched it on the Internet. I liked the urban vibrancy of the city. I visited some cities in Connecticut, but that definitely wasn’t for me. Philadelphia is such a great city. The biggest test was in my body. I came to visit and just wanted to see if the place felt right to me, and instantly I knew I could live here. It was a good fit.
PGN: What personality traits have gotten you in the most trouble? AR: I can be loud … at inopportune times.
PGN: Really? You come across as mild-mannered. AR: Well, apparently my voice can be booming. In grade school, I was always being sent to stand in the corner. I would ask the teacher why I was being punished when everyone in the class was talking, and she’d tell me, “Yes, but your voice carries!” [Laughs.]
PGN: Any pets? AR: I have a Jack Russell terrier named Liza. We go to Washington Park every day and she’s a great icebreaker. People will stop me and tell me how cute she is and start up conversations. We also like to sit on the benches and people watch.
PGN: What profession, other than yours, would you most and least want to try? AR: If I had the body for it, I would love to be a dancer. I really respect dancers and love the visual images they create. What would I not want to pursue? Being a machinist!
PGN: What book would we find on your nightstand? AR: “Momma and the Meaning of Life” by Irvin Yalom. I’m reworking my relationship with my mutha!
PGN: What do you like about what you do? AR: I develop a relationship with my clients. It’s a one-on-one professional relationship designed to develop and improve their mental health and emotional well-being. Our talking is the foundation for them getting to know themselves better.
PGN: Is it ever scary? What do you do if someone is suicidal? AR: That’s an intense question. My answer is that there is an official protocol that has to be followed; once those have been enacted and I know that there is no imminent danger or active intent to harm, I can discuss the fact that suicidal thoughts and questioning the meaning of life is normal. There is a difficult and dark side of self-discovery and I value the mythical approach, which says that there is a natural process of death when the caterpillar turns into the butterfly. It’s not a literal death, but a psychic transformation that can be so painful that suicidal thoughts can be informing that something needs to change. PGN: How does it make you feel? AR: I think I’m hardwired to receive the intensity of people’s emotions. It’s what I do and I’m honored by the honesty of meeting someone in that place. I’ve worked with rape survivors in Denver at a program called RAAP [Rape Assistance and Awareness Program] and I’m trained in eye movement desensitization and reprocessing, which is a technique to release trauma from the body. It could be any trauma, from a car accident to sexual assault or covert incidental trauma. That can be something like, my parents would fight and though it was never directed at me, it was so scary that I’m now anxious all the time. It can be touching, it can be sad, it can be uplifting, but it’s something I always consider a privilege. I grow from the process too. [Laughs.] I don’t know how you are going to fit everything from playing with Barbie doll heads to mythological death processes in one article!
PGN: It’s my specialty! n
Alan Robarge can be reached at www.alanrobarge.com or (215) 983-9407.
To suggest a community member for “Professional Portraits,” write to: Professional Portraits, 505 S. Fourth St., Philadelphia, PA 19147 or [email protected].