I've already written about my own personal coming out day back in the summer of 1982, when I came out of the closet as a gay teenager at the age of 16. Over the years I've noticed that everybody's coming-out experience has it's share of smiliarities and differences with everyone else's, no matter who you are or where you're from; but one universal bond of this experience we all share is the sheer relief of being honest and true to ourselves as well as those around us. No one can amply describe that feeling because in most cases the heightened sense of that relief is indescribable. For myself, it was as if I had passed a certain rite of passage, as if I had finally become a grown-up - and I did, we all did. We made it.
With everything that's going on in the GLBTQ world today, on this very special day, there is a poem that appeared on one of my posts on Facebook a day or two ago that I would like to share with all of you at the end of this entry. I found this poem extremely moving, yet right-on-target on every single one of its verses, especially when thinking about the numerous sucides of GLBTQ youths that have taken place this September and October. I've written on this very same subject a few times now and not only am I abhorred that the suicides havent stopped I still continue my stance that we need to do so much more to protect and ensure the safety and welfare of our GLBTQ youth than simply talking about it and getting them to open up about their feelings of what they are experiencing. True, that is the first step but we need to do so much more. I refuse to budge on this. I still say that beginning a nationwide (hell, even world-wide for that matter) mentoring program between those youths and the adult GLBTQ community is the best route to go - those children of all ages need direct, consistent, stable moral support from all of us on a regular basis and I still feel that will put an end to the rising suicide rates. Granted, perhaps not every GLBTQ youth can be saved, but it sure as hell is worth trying for, dont you think?
This past week yet another dear friend raised an extremely legitimate point regarding the current epidemic of GLBTQ youth suicides. He posed the very same question that I think most of us have been wondering about too - how do we know, without a doubt, that this hasnt been happening all along but is being mistakenly attributed to other factors? Are we finally learning more about this problem because the media is finally focusing attention on it? The possible answers to these questions is downright frightening. I may not have all the answers on this problem guys but I remain steadfast in my convictions on it - point blank, we need to find a legitimate, educated and legal way to step into the lives of our GLBTQ youth and save them, because let's face it guys, it's not like anyone else is gonna do it. Like they use to say in the Midwest when I was growing up - you either gotta piss or get off the pot. I suggest we start doing the former, and ASAP. How to exactly start the process is the hard part that needs to be figured out but like I said, we gotta do something. I'm sorry but continued complacency simply won't cut the bill on this one.
This poem was shared with me through my very good friend Morgan Reynolds, a woman whom I greatly admire as an individual and treasure as a friend. When I mention my friends who are also family to me, she is definitely included in that group. When I asked her who wrote it she told me the author is anonymous. Personally, I was saddened to hear that because I find it to be nothing less than a brilliant, heartfelt piece of literature. Oh I know, poems and literature are suppose to be two totally different things but when any of you read this, I think that you will agree with me that it's not just a poem, but literature too, literature of the heart, literature of the soul, literature that should make each and every one of us realize that we must spring into action in the battle against bigotry, hatred, and bullying, as well as our attempts to do what we can to prevent the suicide rates of all GLBTQ youths from rising any further than they already have. We're all in this world together, to help each other along, I suggest we start working much harder at that than we previously have - and then some - to win the battles on the road ahead of us. We're talking about saving innocent lives here, so not doing anything at all is non-negotiable. Did you hear me? Non-Negotiable.
Due to the fact that this poem is a different font-size as well as the fact that I copied-n-pasted it in its original format, I dont know if this is gonna work or not, but if it doesnt once I autopost this piece I will attempt to re-configure it as soon as I get home from work late tonight. One other thing. If the author of this poem is somewhere out there and somehow reads this entry, please contact me so that I may give you proper credit for this astounding piece of literature that you wrote. The words, the emotions, the truths contained within it may have come from you as the author, but your overall piece is a living testament of the true sentiments of those of us who firmly believe that every member of the human race is worth saving - as well as worth fighting for. Your poem was written about the people, for the people, everywhere, and whoever you are, you will always have my eternal gratitude and respect for doing so. Thank you for reading.
Homophobia..is wrong
I am the girl kicked out of her home because I confided in my mother that I am a lesbian.
I am the prostitute working the streets because nobody will hire a transsexual woman.
I am the sister who holds her gay brother tight through the painful, tear-filled nights.
We are the parents who buried our daughter long before her time.
I am the man who died alone in the hospital because they would not let my partner of twenty-seven years into the room.
I am the foster child who wakes up with nightmares of being taken away from the two fathers who are the only loving family I have ever had. I wish they could adopt me.
I am one of the lucky ones, I guess. I survived the attack that left me in a coma for three weeks, and in another year I will probably be able to walk again.
I am not one of the lucky ones. I killed myself just weeks before graduating high school. It was simply too much to bear.
We are the couple who had the realtor hang up on us when she found out we wanted to rent a one-bedroom for two men.
I am the person who never knows which bathroom I should use if I want to avoid getting the management called on me.
I am the mother who is not allowed to even visit the children I bore, nursed, and raised. The court says I am an unfit mother because I now live with another woman.
I am the domestic-violence survivor who found the support system grow suddenly cold and distant when they found out my abusive partner is also a woman.
I am the domestic-violence survivor who has no support system to turn to because I am male.
I am the father who has never hugged his son because I grew up afraid to show affection to other men.
I am the home-economics teacher who always wanted to teach gym until someone told me that only lesbians do that.
I am the man who died when the paramedics stopped treating me as soon as they realized I was transsexual.
I am the person who feels guilty because I think I could be a much better person if I did not have to always deal with society hating me.
I am the man who stopped attending church, not because I don't believe, but because they closed their doors to my kind.
I am the person who has to hide what this world needs most, love.
I am the person who is afraid of telling his loving Christian parents he loves another male.
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