She was working on the grid staff, and I was climbing the ranks of the National Auto Sport Association’s high-performance driver education program in my 1995 Mazda Miata, on my way to earning my full racing license.īeing a car person and being queer are often seen as incompatible. We were sitting at a picnic table over the lunch hour at Virginia International Raceway.
One of the first people I fully came out to was a college friend.
