I haven't written much in the last three weeks. Sorry about that. I think that it's safe to say that I was writing more than you can imagine. I'll be posting some of my work soon, in fact now. This is my final essay for L&T (The Language and Thinking Workshop) complete with bibliography. Enjoy.
RCW
She was a senior at South Hills High School in downtown Ft. Worth. Her hair was pink and her favorite movie was The Rocky Horror Picture Show. I was a young, naïve freshman at Joshua High; a school named after a town which had acquired its title from a chapter in the Bible. Joshua was small, cloistered from the rest of the world. After church one Sunday, she smiled, tilting her head down and looking up at me through long eye lashes and spikes of bright hair. “What are you doing later?” she asked. I was uncomfortable and confused; I blushed as words stumbled out of my mouth, “Just going home... I have work to do for school tomorrow.” I later told a friend from my youth group that I thought the girl may be a lesbian; I giggled awkwardly and my friend replied, “So what?” It was the first response to homosexuality outside of my family that had not been negative; I was stunned. The idea of girls was even more puzzling than the half hearted, overly complicated relationships I’d had with boys. I pondered the situation for a few moments and then quickly dismissed it. I was not yet ready to explore sexuality.
Tradition is often used to justify the ostracism of homosexuals, claiming they are less than human, living in un-godly sin. In Michel de Montaigne’s essay Of Cannibals, he argues that, “It seems we have no other test of truth and reason than the example and pattern of the opinions and customs of the country we live in” (Frame 152). By the truth and reason of a small town, rural society, homosexuality is not an alternative lifestyle but justification for condemnation. Generalizations, such as this, are simply too broad, leaving out all individual characteristics of a person. It is as ridiculous to say that all homosexuals are immoral as it is to say that all women who wear red shoes on Thursday don’t believe in gravity. Each person must be judged on an individual basis, taking into account their own actions, beliefs and circumstance. Montaigne speaks of generalizations when he states, “Thus we should beware of clinging to vulgar opinions, and judge things by reason’s way, not by popular say” (Frame 150). Unfortunately, in grade school, “popular say” demands the attention of the students, who have yet to consider another path.
From the beginning of elementary school, I often felt left out, different, as if I was an alien posing as a six year old, desperately trying to fit in. Even at a young age, I felt myself being drawn into conflict with the immediate world that Joshua represented. Within five minutes of my house were at least eight different churches of varying orientations- Catholic, Baptist, Lutheran, Presbyterian, Methodist and one commonly called “The Cowboy Church.” In a place preoccupied with religion and scandal, fear and misunderstanding, my frantic attempts to be “normal” and to assimilate myself into the brutal social scene of the rural school system was unsuccessful. Instead, I distanced myself from that which was foreign to me. Taught by my parents to be kind and generous, especially to those who were less fortunate than I, I was astounded by the name-calling and bullying of my classmates and their continual need to pull others down. I was instantly at odds with the boys in my classes; they seemed to be the cruelest of all. They called me a he-she, referencing my chili-bowl hair cut, and once I was told that I was the greatest mistake God ever made (I later discovered the joke was on them; God doesn’t make mistakes). In standing up to them, I lost popularity points, dragging me even further down the social ladder. The truth of who I was prevented me from making much progress.
In her essay, Toccata and Fugue, Julia Kristeva describes the life of a foreigner-- “Strangely, the foreigner lives within us: he is the hidden face of our identity, the space that wrecks our abode, the time in which understanding and affinity founder” (1). The unknown, the questionable that lies within is ultimately what prevents an individual from living to their highest potential. With everything unknown comes fear, and the ability to push past that fear fosters both knowledge and self worth, a trait that many homosexuals lack because of the negative bombardments of modern society. However, it is possible to look past those attacks, instead choosing to live contently as a person instead of classified as a faggot or a dyke. Richard Rodriguez, a famous homosexual author, speaks of his experiences and concludes, “It was then I saw that the greater sin against heaven was my unwillingness to embrace life. (502)” Entering middle school, the hidden face of my identity continued to wreak havoc on my life, my misunderstanding of who I was contributing all the more to the playground tauntings of my peers and my own misplacement.
The ridicule continued and I was still left without an idea of why I was so different. In middle school, mockery was the chief suppliant of entertainment for the ignorant. At thirteen, the entirety of life is encompassed in volleyball practice, homework and the continuous popularity contest that everyone is subjected to, whether they like it or not. A girl named Wendy didn’t seem to be good at any of the above. In eighth grade she was “outed” and scorned by her peers, not only for being unpopular and less than the epitome of the Britney Spears-esque teenager, but for being attracted to girls as well. I was perplexed, attempting to contemplate what that meant, scared to walk past her in the hall, not for fear of molestation or something similarly ridiculous, but for fear of recognizing the same qualities that ostracized her within myself. In eighth grade there was no alternative lifestyle, no prospect of variety in dating. If you were a boy, there were girls and for girls there were boys. Wendy had become a mirror to me, reflecting back the traits I feared most. She scared me and I didn’t know why; I didn’t want to know honestly. Ignorance seemed to be bliss.
As I graduated from middle school to high school, I also became part of my church’s teenage group, the Youth of Unity, or Y.O.U. for short. My mother and I would drive an hour round trip each Sunday to attend the Ft. Worth Church of Unity- for me, the first public place of acceptance, even before the realization of my sexuality. It was there in my youth room that I first encountered the pink haired girl and became conscious of acceptance because- not in spite- but because of difference. I soon recognized the middle aged, lesbian couple whose children were in my mother’s Sunday school class as well as the many other homosexual individuals who had found a haven in Unity. The subject suddenly seemed much less taboo in such a safe environment.
On the contrary, my school was becoming increasingly homophobic as my class advanced in years. I found a large number of friends in Y.O.U. as I exponentially lost friends in Joshua. In my yearning to find someone who understood-- for as of then, I still did not-- who I was, I separated myself from an even larger portion of my class, finding a few sparse individuals who, while they did not throw rocks at me (which I have experienced) nor yell obscene names across the hall (I have known this as well), loved me in the greatest capacity they could, still acknowledging that upon my death my soul would speed hastily to hell. I will never forget their disappointment in me and I fear that I have hurt them as much as I was injured.
I came out of the proverbial closet in my sophomore year of high school. It happened in stages, progressively, as all things do; my youth group, close friends in Joshua, a teacher, my big brother, my parents, my little brother (who, when I told him, replied, “Really? I’m gay.” “Are you serious?” “Nope, just kidding,” he added with a devious smile), close aunts and uncles and eventually my whole high school. By avoiding my sexuality, I had rejected a holistic life, living only part of my truth. After sixteen years of confusion and avoiding the topic, I finally had an idea of who I was. Lydia Davis wrote, “It is once again a question of saying, Yes, I do exist, and Yes, I did exist all along” ( 89). With the knowledge that Yes, I was a lesbian and No, I was not ashamed of who I was, I began living life, knowing that for the first time that I was not acting, putting up a façade but instead living, being true to who I was . Existence became more meaningful despite the increase in taunting. I graduated with honors and that night I was finally able to walk away, free from the chains of Joshua High. I was grateful for the time spent there. The thirteen years I attended school in Joshua were the greatest learning experiences of my life.
“Though I am alive now, I do not believe that an old man’s pessimism is truer than a young man’s optimism simply because it comes after.” (Rodriguez 493). Individualism should not be shunned simply because tradition dictates against it. It is not justifiable to torment other people because of the color of their skin, the way they talk, where they’re from or who they fall in love with. A teacher once told me that what is popular is not always right, nor is that which is right always popular. There will be bullies, boys from the fourth grade who tell you that you are a mistake. There will be tormentors, people who not only attack you physically, but your soul’s core as well. Montaigne writes, and I agree, that, “The worth and value of a man is in his heart and his will; there lies his real honor” (Frame 157). I will no longer live my life in fear. Instead, I will continually choose to recognize my worth, not as dictated by ignorance, but by my own honor and will. I will live my life, undefined by stereotypes and generalities. I live my life, as it is, perfect and whole-- untitled.
Bibliography
Davis, Lydia. The Graywolf Forum. Saint Paul, Minnesota: Graywolf Press, 1999.
Montaigne. The Complete Works of Montaigne, trans. Frame, Donald. Connecticut: Stamford University Press, 1958.
Freud, Sigmund. Civilization and Its Discontents. New York: W.W. Norton & Company Inc., 1961.
Kristeva, Julia. Strangers to Ourselves “Toccata and Fugue for the Foreigner”. Columbia: Columbia University Press, 1991.
Rodriguez, Richard. Encounters: Essays for Exploration and Inquiry. Columbus Ohio: McGraw Hill, 2000.
