Journeyman professional basketball player, 34-year-old Jason Collins, recently received his proverbial “fifteen minutes of fame” when he revealed in a Sports Illustrated article that he is gay.

So . . . ?

What does anyone’s sexual orientation have to do with anything besides one’s own personal sexual feelings and behavior? Which is, frankly, no one else’s business, apart from whomever may wish to relate–in this instance, to Jason Collins–in necessarily sexual ways.

The public reaction to Collins’ disclosure obviously reveals more about our culture’s anxiety with respect to human sexuality than the character of Jason Collins. Indeed, an anxiety that is obviously exploitable where media and marketing are concerned.

Like the guy calling in to a National Public Radio program–I was listening while driving my truck–who claimed that if Collins’ National Basketball Association career (which is at or near an end) is extended another year or so, if a team offers him a contract, Collins should be quarantined to his own personal locker room.

Not realizing, of course–the guy on the phone–that he was revealing more insecurity about his own sexuality (including his assumed sexual orientation) than likely Jason Collins’ public disclosure regarding his sexual orientation.

Notably, besides such public figures as President Obama and Oprah Winfrey, various prominent professional athletes have applauded Collins’ courage, honesty and integrity. Not the least of whom have been former team-mates and coaches who have spoken of such integrity on Collins’ part as a basketball player. In other words, whatever his sexual orientation, he has been a valued and respected team-mate who has played the game honorably and successfully.

Hardly a “star” in the NBA, Collins–a seven-footer and Stanford graduate–has nevertheless distinguished himself, far beyond most of the rest of us who ever bounced a basketball, by being able to play for twelve years at an optimal level of athletic competition.

A toxic flaw, in the service of de-humanizing anyone, is to assume that “any part” of a person is meant to sufficiently define “all of whom” the person is and is capable of becoming. And we are all comprised of various “parts” when it comes to the assorted aspects of our humanity, including our character.

For example, in appreciation for my service on an advisory board some years ago, the chaplain of a local hospital gave me a book entitled, You Are Not Your Illness (Fireside, 1995). The book having been written, particularly, for those afflicted with serious, often even illness that would seem to elicit forms of discrimination, however subtle or otherwise. In other words, whatever your illness–it is but “a part,” not “all” of who you are. Such illness–if it may “describe” a dimension of your personhood–it is not meant to “define” you.

This moral principle is meant to apply to many descriptive personal characteristics, including one’s race, ethnicity, gender, size, intelligence, talents, interests, aptitudes, physical attributes, education, economic status, achievements, failures, losses, disappointments–the list is endless.

None more important than with respect to anyone’s sexual orientation. As in this case. Those who have worked with Jason Collins over his extensive professional basketball career–an endeavor that is surely more “work” than “play”–have described him as the same capable, credible person, the same respected and valued friend and colleague irrespective of his sexual orientation.

What does one’s sexual orientation have to do with the worth, the value of whomever? Nothing. Unless one is as unaware as insecure about her or his own sexual orientation. Indeed, when LGBT persons challenge one another to stop obsessing about what’s “wrong” with themselves, they are challenging the rest of us–whose sexual orientation may be different–to stop projecting what is “wrong” on to them.