flashpoint

4/30/08

"i wish that i knew what i know now, when i was younger. i wish that i knew what i know now, when i was stronger." -the faces

yesterday, i had a letter to the editor published in the racine journal times. it was in response to acts of discrimination against students at local high schools participating in the national day of silence to raise awareness of the struggles many LGBT students face daily.

my little brother is the picture of courage when it comes to speaking out, or in this instance, not speaking out. since his decision to come out, he has been an advocate for LGBT students. he was a founding member of the gay-straight alliance, leader of the poms squad, and a star in choral and theatre performances. he's also participated in sports, sex-ed awareness, and religious activities.

i think about this awesome kid, and how much he does for everyone around him. he's fortunate to feel confident enough to share himself regardless of consequence. then, i imagine all the students who are afraid to tell their friends and families who they are because they think they'll be ostracized, mistreated, or worse. when people have to hide their love for someone of the same gender, or feel that they must conform to the "norm" to avoid persecution, i am frustrated beyond words. it seems to me that the fight for civil rights is far from over.

i remember an incident i was involved in my 8th grade year -- young and stupid, but still old enough to know better. after months of struggle with a particular teacher (i was constantly removed from the class, in spite of my attention and engagement in lectures) i'd had enough.

a couple of us got together after school at a neighbor's house and thought of ways we could get back at this teacher who had it out for me. someone suggested we put something on his door, maybe some kind of banner or something to perpetuate the rumor of his sexual identity. one of the girls' mothers was a quilter, so there was plenty of fabric. we gathered some supplies, and set to work.

i'll never forget that banner. it was a white pillowcase with a purple ruffle, sequins and beads. we attached a picture of dorothy from the wizard of oz and a queen of hearts. the idiot innocence in us compelled us to use puffy paint and spell out his name: tom.

we hung the banner early monday morning, before school started. everyone dashed off to class on an adrenaline rush, we didn't speak. i remained relatively calm for the remainder of the day, until the school police officer pulled me out of class and directed me to his office. i was given a lecture, which i didn't quite understand until recently. we had, in fact, committed a hate crime. our angst and anger piled up in helplessness, we retaliated in a way that would hurt him.

i was the only one who was caught, and the only one who confessed. i was suspended for two weeks. the other folks involved are memories to me now, but i still see tom around town. he lives near me, i think, and we frequent the same spaces. part of the irony: until he started throwing me out of classes, he had been my favorite teacher because he showed us movies on rock and roll, anthropology and politics.

i owe that man an apology, and it's taken me a good eight years to realize it. he's not gay, but if he were, why should it have mattered to me, to any of us? it's taken an outlash of hatred and intolerance for me to see the mistake. i'm ashamed, and i hope some day when i see him out, he won't dash off in the other direction so i can tell him i'm sorry.

i'd like to think that i'm a better person now, and i won't tolerate discrimination of any kind. i'm more careful in my thoughts, words, and actions. i hope this revelation can change some things for the better.


To the City of Racine:

I am ashamed of the backwoods-style condemnation of students participating in the National Day of Silence campaign. I commend those students who had courage enough to invoke their constitutional right to stand in peaceful protest against hatred and bigotry. These young people are the new civil rights activists in the fight for social equality. In battles such as this, there are countless others paralyzed by fear. They see these students as champions of human rights.

I am proud to be a member of a socially-active, blended LGBT family. I challenge any of those gay-bashing in this city to rise to the occasion of accepting the words of our forefathers — that all men are created equal. We must celebrate life, regardless of race, gender, creed, ethnicity, sexual preference, or ability. This is a nation for all people, not just those who live as you do.

Rosy Ricks