In the fall of 2007, my senior year of high school, my friend and I sat in front of the principal’s desk listening intently to the leader of our school explain why it just wasn’t a good idea to put National Coming Out Day on the morning announcements. We had submitted it along with the flurry of announcements about upcoming sporting events, bake sales, and dances. We did not, perhaps naively, foresee an issue. Surely it couldn’t hurt to add one sentence in between the reminder about musical rehearsal and the football game that weekend.
He declared first that he was entirely open-minded. “I had a gay fraternity brother in college, so I understand,” as if having made the acquaintance of one gay person eliminated the possibility of him being homophobic. He went on to explain that this announcement would cause too much trouble. The gay kids would be harassed even more; the unrest generated by a step forward was not worth it. I remember listening to him speak and I felt my insides being stirred up, my heart rate increased. I thought rapidly of all the great leaders who, despite facing great odds, took that step forward. As an idealist at heart, I could not accept our principal’s unwillingness to accept responsibility. It made me wonder, would my school never take steps to protect GLBT kids due to the fear of a troublesome backlash?
When I stood in my principal’s shiny black dress shoes, I could understand his feelings. Things were “fine” the way they were. As soon as that announcement about National Coming Out Day floated into the classrooms and hallways, echoing back would be gay jokes, the word fag, and possibly physical harm to GLBT students. One announcement could turn an average day into a day where a major issue had to be confronted. Best be silent and let the high school putter through another normal day.
When we left the principal’s office, shot down by an unsettling, seemingly sensible explanation, I knew it would be a normal day. A day where the words gay and fag were thrown around like spit wads and always had the surprise and sting of a sucker punch. Another day where that one guy pretended to be heterosexual by calling his friends gay and saying how hot he thought some girl was. Another day of those girls trying not to be in love with each other because they’re both female. Another cycle of sickening normality. For the kids that continually suppress their sexuality it becomes such a natural part of everyday life that their high school experience becomes radically different from other kids’. They’ll never be able to feel the thrill of asking that one special guy or girl out. They’ll only go to prom with their best heterosexual friend. They will never know the subtle sweetness of holding their boyfriend or girlfriend’s hand that perfect summer day in the park. Those are but a few of the consequences of such an evil peace.
What disappointed me most about the principal that day was the lack of courage. It would have been brave to allow our announcement. It would have challenged the common belief that “gay” is another word for “stupid” and saying “faggot” will go without reprimand. A simple act, but one that would have let the the GLBT students receive some signal that their celebrations and pursuit of fairness was considered serious by the school. For my principal, that simple action was unthinkable to even consider. But courage is a rare trait in high school when it comes to discrimination against gays. Teachers are not brave enough to call out students who use derogatory insults and students are not brave enough to tell their friends when they’ve crossed the line. There are very few strong people out there who will stand up for their gay friends. I was lucky to know some in my school, but for the majority of gay kids there is no Superman that will swoop down to save them.
More than universal legalization of gay marriage or adoption benefits for same-sex couples, I would like to see the rampant discrimination and stereotypes in our nation’s high schools be eliminated. I realize there may always be homophobia present in our institutions just as racism is still prevalent. But so many high schools have not even taken a single step to protect its gay students. This protection may come with side effects; the violence and harassment produced by desegregation of schools is a similar situation. But we cannot avoid confronting homophobia because we are afraid of a radical minority’s reaction. With the chance of suicide and homelessness significantly higher among GLBT kids than heterosexual and non-transgender kids, the consequences of inaction are seriously damaging.
The effects of homophobia are very real. In high school, it becomes more than just a restriction of the right to marry or have legal protection from discrimination. For gay students, homophobia is a terrible, potent force that can destroy a person’s social, emotional, and physical well-being. It is up to individual people and simple actions to quell that force. All you need is a little courage.



Houghton Arpt, MI