I wrote this letter to Gaga as an assignment. I am in my sophomore year of school at Columbia College Chicago (this was my first semester, I was previously enrolled in community college in Michigan. And at midnight tonight, I will be 23 years old. My name is Cole H. Burton. The beginning, a prologue addressed to “Victoria” is a note that I added to explain my creative process to my professor.

So, Here it is, 

VICTORIA: For my concept paper, I hope you don’t mind, I took a more creative approach. Originally, I planned to write a research paper about domestic abuse among homosexuals. I, however,(and this is where I need you to trust me) started writing a paper for a different class, and I realized how well the two things that I needed to write about combined. So, it’s not plagiarism if you cite your source, right? Because I would like to informally cite the fact that I turned in this same paper for another final this semester. When I turned in that draft, however, it was four pages shorter. So what I want you to understand that this is not out of laziness, but rather, I decided before I wrote it that I wanted to combine the two papers, because of their interlocking themes. One paper is a review of  the Gaga album ‘Born this Way’, and the other paper is your concept paper, and my story. You’ll see when you read it that I had the concept paper in my head while writing it. I know you’re a writing teacher at DePaul, so I hope this informality, and the informality of my grammar don’t offend you. I write very colloquially, and I do this for stylization. I view this much more as a creative piece than as a formal essay. I learned a lot writing this paper, and I’m extremely proud of it, so even if you give me a bad grade for not following the guidelines, or for turning in the same paper to two classes, I’m proud of the grade I give myself for writing it. And I think so will you be…  So, Here goes.

An Open Letter to Lady Gaga
My Gay and Lesbian Studies Concept Paper

By: Cole H. Burton


Dear Gaga,

 You don’t know it, but it’s been a long journey to get us where we are. There are so many things that I have wanted to tell you. There are so many things about how you shaped me, changed me, helped me. You saved me. Honestly. Not in the melodramatic way. In the actual way. I think I would be dead without you. That’s just a fact. I feel like I know you so well. And, I really believe that I exist somewhere in the back of your mind, and you just haven’t realized it yet. You are truly one of my best friends, and nobody but you can really understand how that is possible with someone I have never met. I know you exactly as you are. Every nuance and idiosyncrasy. Deep conversations and cases of the giggles both. I love you exactly as you are. If I could only say one sentence to you before I die, if I had to pick just one thing that you got to hear from me, if my impact on your life had to be compacted into a few syllables, I would tell you, “I think you’re so cool.” And I know that this would be important to you. I know that you would remember hearing this. Because it’s all you need to keep going. Is one person who gets you. One person who believes in you. Is reason to keep pushing, keep growing, keep being in pain, keep healing, and keep pushing. And I understand that more than anything.

I must admit, friend, that I never intended to like you. In fact, I intended the complete opposite. I intended to hate everything about you. Everything about what I thought you represented, and who else liked you. When you first started, it was the gays. Now, I came out when I was extremely young. I was 14. And in this heteronormative society, fourteen year old me began being pressured to change things about myself in order to fit in. To get a job, even, I could not wear the eyeliner that I so carefully applied every morning. I could not retain the long hair that I so proudly grew and pampered. If I wanted to make money of ANY kind, (I was not looking for a CAREER. I just wanted to work at the movies) I would have to conform. To be more “masculine”. I started talking in my lowest register, and I started calling everyone dude. I shaved half my head, and at some point, this ‘masculinity’ became a part of me. I ingrained it into my behavior. I lost control of it. I do it without thinking. This is not to say that I’m macho or anything. I’m still really gay, I promise.

But this manliness, it’s important to me that you understand, is what drove me from you. I had spent my early adulthood shedding all things stereotypically gay about myself. And the gays and you were moth to flame. BAM. Gay explosion. Everything that I had taught myself to hate. Is what you represented. I would jam “Just Dance” when it came on the radio, I knew every word to “Pokerface”, but I would NEVER admit that I was a Gaga fan. To be a part of this obsession would make me one of ‘those gays’. I always thrived off of being told that I was special. I would hang out with straight guys who would tell me that they never knew a gay kid as cool as me. I was ‘not as queeny’. And this was on purpose. I could not embrace my own identity. My own people. My brothers and sisters. My peers, my allies in the battle for equality. I did not love that part of myself enough to acknowledge its existence. Not until I met you.

I was in a pretty crappy relationship that ended just over a year ago. This is a hard thing for me to talk about, because it has become so important to me that he not seem like a villain, and that I not be seen as a victim. That I do not see myself as a victim. I was depressed my whole childhood, I had a lot of issues with anxiety. OCD. ADD. You name it, I had it. And until I got out of this bad relationship (not bad romance, like what you and me could write) I thrived on people’s sympathy. I thought for whatever reason that as long as everyone understood that I had it rough and I was struggling, and they felt bad for me, I would retain support through the storm that was my life. In the middle of this relationship, a song that ended up on my ipod accidentally, yours, called ‘Monster’ came on in my car one day.

             I was instantly yours. I identified with this. This addiction to something bad for you. Someone bad for you. I listened to ‘The Fame Monster’ on repeat for months. I had to have a coming out to my friends about you. My preconceived notions that your art was contrived were so wrong, and I finally let down my anti stereotypical guard and loved your music as it was. I realized that this is your soul. As it is also mine. I can wax poetic about music with you all day. Music is everything I think about. My heartbeat is a fucking mad bass beat. My legs hit the ground in perfect 4/4 time when I throw on my leather and cruise down the street that I love. And you are the same. And as someone who is the same, you understand that I truly believe that music is a piece of our soul that we can somehow record. When we write something, it is coming from an unconscious level of our existence. We are giving listeners a part of us. I think there is science to this. If I were a scientist, I would put effort into researching this. But unfortunately, I’m a musician. So I can only think. We do love to think, you and I.

        While  ‘Monster’ embodied my relationship, “Alejandro” helped me say goodbye (again and again, we never stopped). In my moments of strength during the rollercoaster of an abusive relationship, I felt sometimes, secretly, deep inside, that as long as I had you, I didn’t need him. We would break up and get back together and break up and get back together and break up and get back together and break up and get back together. AND. We would break up and get back together.

Of course, we sometimes have to hit rock bottom before we realize how wonderful we are. For you it took being dropped from your label and the horrible thing that happened to you the same day (I figured it out, by the way, and I’m so sorry).For me, it also took hospitilization. I was psychiatrically institutionalized when my ex and I finally managed to stay broken up. And this was honest to god the best thing that ever happened to me. People need to know that it’s okay to need help. It forced me to finally realize that I did not have to be a victim. I could be strong. I could be happy. This was something in which I had a say. I never realized until you helped me, that my sadness was a choice. There was another option. Be happy. Love every minute of my life. Immerse myself in art. Live a life that I could love.

          The first months post breakup/meltdown were scary. I was unstable. I was trying to become something that I wasn’t so that I could shed the skin of my formerly tortured identity. I drank way too much, and ate way too little. I tried to mold myself into something that I could deem desirable, because after the breakup, I was certainly not feeling desirable. I had been reduced to the lowest possible state of being.

          Then, fatefully, your new album came out. Again, when I first heard ‘Born This Way’ (the song) I thought it was just the gayest thing I had ever heard. I was still not ready to love this fact. After you released the video (which is a fucking masterpiece) I began to enjoy it better, and now I of course recognize it as the truly important piece of pop culture that it is. By the beginning of the summer, ‘Born this Way’ (the song) opened my eyes in an eruption of gay fabulousness.

          I just moved to Chicago from a small town in Michigan this September. The summer that preceeded this move was the most amazing time of my life. You and I hung out every day. I had a crew of friends that I loved more than anything. I liked myself. I thought I was talented. This was a BIG step. I thought I was an amazing singer. For the first time. I had spent my life being modest, and believing my modesty. I knew that I loved to sing, and I thought maybe other people would think so too, but I didn’t really share it.

Which was a waste for me to have been doing this long. I have a gift, and it’s not meant for me. It’s meant to be heard. I was given this voice to use it. ‘Born this Way’ gave me the confidence to do this. And to be fucking fierce in the process. Why should I hate anything about myself? I’m beautiful. I never knew that until you told me. You inspired me to look at myself objectively. I had grown so accustomed to hating myself. I had worked so hard to change the way people would see me. So they would think that I was better than I really was, or something. But now, I was beginning to change. I was on the right track, baby. I was born this way. Immediately I knew to let go of my homosexual homophobia. We are all in this fight together. Those guys are fighting this fight just as hard as I am. They are under the same pressures, the same judgement. Why was I not allowing people this free and unique into my life? I couldn’t do it until I became free and unique.

Immediately I knew that even though I’m surrounded by people who think I’m weird, or feminine, or don’t accept me, I’m also surrounded by people who admire, respect, and love me. As my therapist eye-openingly told me, “The whole time you have been thinking that you were mashed potatoes, but all these people who love you, and even people who don’t know you, they all think you’re a Filet Mingnon.” I am a Filet Mingnon. It took a force of nature to finally make me realize it (my trinity of role models, you, my therapist (who is an out and proud gay man), and Oprah – see, I told you I was still really gay).

          But then it was ‘Judas’. I’m in love with ‘Judas’. Again, when I saw the video.  My God. Your attention to detail. Your direction. That sick dance. The apostles as a Latin biker gang. I could finally see your music beyond the surface. You successfully combined Judas Priest with Judas Iscariot, and you did it seamlessly. You invented a noise. That wailing noise in the pre-chorus. Or maybe you didn’t invent it, it seemed kinda Yoko inspired. (An homage?) But you certainly made the noise mainstream acceptable. No one would have let that sound be in top 40 music, it is far too strange. But you’re making strange popular. The freaks are starting to become the cool kids. And you’re paving the way for us. On a Unicorn. This was the point at which you moved up into the top slot on my favorite artists chart. This song breathed life into me. And of course, I too, was still in love with Judas.

          Though both of our life circumstances are so vastly different, they are so frighteningly similar. We are parallel versions of each other. I won’t even go into parallels between the guy that you don’t like to talk about in the press (I, of course, know his name, and I know the story of your relationship pretty well. Even though you don’t talk about it, you sure do sing about it, don’t you? I understand this language better anyhow) and the guy I don’t like to talk about to the press either.

           I bought your album the day it was released. That’s a lie. I downloaded it illegally when it leaked early, because I still did not respect you (or any musician)enough to pay you back for the service that you have done for me. The help that you provided me. But I know that you don’t want my money. That Shit’s ugly. You’re doing it for the fame. The day I got the album , I had to work a 10 hour shift waiting tables. Luckily, my former manager is a little monster, so we (and a crowded restaurant) listened to it on a loop for the entire shift. I listened to this album (damn close to exclusively) for MONTHS. I’m still listening to it. I’ve thrown in another album or two, but, I still listen to ‘Born This Way’ (the album) at least one song a day. Not like, as a ritual, but because I still love it and still discover new things about it every time I listen to it. You know what I mean. You did the same thing with ‘Abbey Road’. ‘Born this Way’ is my ‘Abbey Road’.

          The first track that I took strongly to was ‘Bloody Mary’. I think that the religious themes in that record are so genius.  You have your own name chanted by Gregorian monks. Christ! (Literally and Figuratively).The bassline is some amazing synth that sounds like the future. The engineering on this entire album is spectacular, and I wish people knew how much work you really put into it. You only really understand it when you listen to it through headphones. Or in surround sound.

          You are a genius, and you work with a team of geniuses. You do such a great job making music. You have a gift. I’m sure you are finally able to realize that fact every day, because you’re Lady Gaga. But just in case you’re ever insecure like I used to be, I want to reassure you that you are marvelous. You’re marvelous. So marvelous.

          Of course, ‘Marry the Night’ was another fast favorite. The way that you used that church organ. Christ! (Again).This song is perfect, and I would say that it is the most important song that you have ever written. ‘Marry the Night’ is about embracing our past and for me it meant respecting that something bad happened to me. That, and respecting that I had grown and learned as a result of this bad thing, were crucial to my continued existence. I am not defined by the bad experience. I love that I have become what I am today because of that experience. I love myself today because of that experience. It was a stone on the road to self acceptance.

          Good thing I’m still running down that road with my top down, flying. This song changed how I looked at myself. This song cemented that I was not a victim. When I had doubt, I would plug the CD into my car (I know you like it when we listen to CD’s instead of Mp3) , drive around, and fucking belt out this song. This was my summer.

           Then there’s the video. Which led me to a second and more recent change. When you told everyone that you had been hospitalized. That you had hit rock bottom and crashed. That you are who you are today because this major event shaped you in a major way. It pushed you to succeed. This was both of our stories, to different degrees. Yours landed you as the success that you so truly deserve to be, and mine forced me to view my life as something that I loved. I bet you’d agree that these are equally major life events. This is when we both got famous. You externally, and me internally.

          We had been in out ruts.We had nothing left to lose. We crashed into the median, spiraled out of control, and landed upright in our vehicles. And we turned the car on and ran. Together. And though I didn’t know you’d gone through the same thing, I had been finding so much strength in the words you wrote. Because they had been about me the whole time.

        I finally began to view myself (without a bias) as someone cool, as someone I liked, when I moved to Chicago. I had a fresh slate, to start off. I could use my bangs to hide that I didn’t stand a chance. You have always said that fame was not external. Flashing bulbs and fanmail are not what make a person famous. Fame is internal. We decide that we are famous. Everyone else will catch up eventually. I have found strength in my oddities. I walk down the sidewalk to your pulse in my ears, and I fucking work it. I may look silly, but I’m so much happier than anyone who wants to laugh at me about it that I don’t give a shit. Sorry, but I’m having a great time in my mind’s music video right now. Sorry. Don’t give a fuck. I’m living halfway between reality and fantasy. Fuck you guys, I was born this way.

          I bet a lot of people think it’s silly that you wrote ‘Hair’. It is firstly the gayest thing I have ever heard, and secondly, I am in love with it. When you sang it as a piano ballad on Howard Stern, I cried. I could finally relate to older gay men who felt this way about Judy Garland. Gagarland. The song is haunting and empowering at once. We’re all just here fighting to stay cool on the streets. Everyone. Everyone feels unliked sometimes. Everyone feels uncool sometimes. But when you finally realize how special you are, how cool you are, with no ego or self judgement, that’s when you’re famous. You can’t achieve this until you view yourself as something special. I think I’m something to write home about. And I am proud of this. You taught me this. I’m famous. You taught me this.

         I am of course, still hurt by the end of my love affair. But, as you always do, you released the music video for ‘Marry the Night’ at the exact right moment. Your music always seems be released just in time to pick me up from the ground. I had been sad for a few weeks again out at college, and I was worried that the strength I had found since I’d left home might be fading. I had hit a low out here. But this video. I watched it over and over and over again. It’s better than ‘Thriller’, Gags. (I call the you in my head gags sometimes as a cute nickname. It’s very endearing, and it reminds the you in my head of when people call Barbara Streisand Babs). It is the most creative thing you’ve ever done, and I literally think it should win a best picture Oscar.

           ‘The King’s Speech’ ain’t got shit on ‘Marry the Night’. I hope you’re proud of that one. There is not a single flaw. But this video changed my focus. I had been focusing on the past so much that I wasn’t being present in my present. I saw the journey that I have been on over the past year, and I realized that I could no longer be angry at my Ex. He was born that way. Though we were a toxic couple, it was because we tried to force together two pieces that just didn’t fit. It was not his fault that it had gotten so bad. Nor was it mine. I could forgive the wrongs he had committed. I could love him, but not be in love with him. I finally let go.

          And now I’m learning music at a wonderful college in the city where Oprah made it. I am on top of my game. I am living the life that I always wanted to live, but never loved myself enough to embark upon. Without you, I would not be alive. I know I said that already, but I wanted to really drive in the nail with this. Without you, I would not be alive physically, and more importantly, I would not be alive spiritually. I finally met ‘the one’ I had been waiting for to sweep me off my feet all this time. His name is Cole, and I see him every time I cross the path of a mirror. And I love him. I really do.

          So, I wrote you a letter. To thank you. I don’t think people express gratitude enough. I always make it a point to thank people who genuinely care. It’s important that everyone knows that they are surrounded by support. By people who think they’re dynamite. It’s important to thank and compliment people, because knowing that we’re doing something right is what keeps pushing us to be more. You are truly one of the most highly regarded people in my heart. If I never have sex again, but I get to spend my life with you, well obviously I’d prefer to have sex some, but, if I never do, and I get to spend my life with you, I will still look back at the end, when I’m on the edge of glory, and I will believe my life to have been lived beautifully. You are as precious as a close friend, because to me, you have been one. And you did it on purpose. And I just think that’s amazing. And I want you to know that I think you’re cool. And I know that you think I’m cool too. I know that. We both feel that way about me now.

Love,

Cole H. Burton