By Brenna Kate Simonds

The recent suicides that are related to bullying have brought back some not-so-pleasant memories for me. I’m sure I’m not alone.  Coming out of the closet (or rather, being pushed out kicking and screaming) as a high school student in 1990-ish in small-town New Hampshire was not fun. I always joke that Ellen didn’t come out for another 7 years I was made fun of, harassed, threatened, and insulted.  I remember sitting in class and having a peer tell me that all gay people should be put on an island and blown up, as my teacher sat there and said nothing.  I spent many classes just putting my head down on my desk and crying. I remember once being harassed so severely that I got up and walked out of the class because the anxiety of sitting there, in that class, overwhelmed me.  I went to the principal’s office, as I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go.  He didn’t ask me if I needed anything, didn’t ask me why I left my class, didn’t send me to the guidance counselor even though I was visibly upset; he just told me I could sit in the waiting area until my next class.

The harassment wasn’t limited to school hours.  I would walk down the street and people would threaten me from their cars, yelling insults and screaming “Dyke”.  I also wasn’t just bullied because I was same-sex attracted; I was bullied because I was smart, because I dressed differently, because I was a “band fag” – the list went on and on. (keep reading…)

Homosexuality is one of those issues where I feel like my personal views as an apprentice of Jesus Christ are often misquoted. People like me don’t tend to take out letters in the paper or hold sandwich signs during gay Rights Day. I stand back and watch as the louder voices on each side of the issue get the press coverage. It seems like all that I get is misunderstood, mischaracterized, and maligned. And there is a growing group of people like me. (keep reading…)