I clicked the safety on the gun. My hands trembled as I pointed it towards my head. Memories poured over me. As I squeezed my eyes shut I could feel the cold metal against my temple and the tears running down my face.

It was like reliving the day all over again. “Hey fag, don’t you know you’re not allowed to walk passed me?” he
sneered as he stuck out his foot and pushed me over it. My books and homework cascaded across the faux brick floors
in front of the gymnasium. My face burned with embarrassment as I heard them snicker and walk away. I looked up
briefly as I scrambled to gather my things, my eyes caught my PE teachers glance, she quickly looked the other way. It
wasn’t something that shocked me anymore. Most of them did it. They stayed silent as I was put through hell.

I had gone to the porch that day. What I was planning to do was messy enough, no need to ruin the carpet or couch in the process. I was so broken by my peers and by society; I saw no other way out of my pain. I was tired of feeling like I was bad, like I was dirty, like I was wrong. I would sit at night and plead with God to take the pain away, to just make me like everyone else, to make me straight. But it seemed like God wasn’t listening, like he didn’t care… like nobody cared.

As I drew closer I could see it. Scrawled in black Sharpie across locker 121, was the word. Faggot. I had been
branded. I walked passed, hoping the crowd wouldn’t realize the locker belonged to me. I went to the auditorium; no
one would be there this time of day. I sat in the dark room, a sea of empty seats around me, waiting for the sounds
of the class change to die down in the hall. When the tardy bell rang I walked out, found a custodian and fought back
tears as I asked him to help clean my locker. He smirked, handed me a scour pad as he told me, “You take care of it
yourself.” He added, “you might just want to leave it, you know they’ll just write it again.”

I’m not sure what changed in that moment, maybe it was adrenaline, maybe God was listening or maybe I just chickened out. The gun clicked again as I reengaged the safety. I set it down and fell to the floor shaking.
Queer, homo, gay, faggot. These are words used to describe the stupid, the despicable, the wrong. These same words are used to describe homosexuals. Regardless of the context when we use these words as a society are sending youth the same message, if you’re gay you’re stupid, you’re despicable, you’re wrong.

My story is not unique. Despite the growing societal acceptance of lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, questioning, interest and asexual (LGBTQIA) people, our students are facing the same issues I faced in high school so many years ago. The most recent National School Climate Survey, a report by the Gay, Lesbian & Straight Education Network, cites 63.5% of LGBTQIA students feel unsafe at school. 81.9% of these same students report being verbally harassed at school. More than half of students surveyed report hearing homophobic remarks coming from school personnel. Less than one fifth of students reported that their teachers took action when homophobic remarks were made in school (National School Climate Survey). If you want to understand our society all you need to do is look through the window of our schools.

An alarming number of lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, questioning, interest and asexual (LGBTQIA) youth are being bullied, and far too many are killing themselves. Yet, words like faggot are hurled with reckless abandon in schools, in office buildings and on the streets. How many more children will hold a gun to their temple and have their minds fill with the same thoughts mine once did? How many will pull the trigger? How many could have their final thought be of you as you uttered, “quit being a fag,” or “that’s gay?”

As educators we must cultivate a culture of tolerance and understanding. Education shouldn’t be just about mathematics, history, science and the arts. It must also encompass empathy and social justice. We as a society must begin to at the very least, see each other as human beings and not whatever the new derogatory term is for a person, a person who is also someone’s son, daughter, brother, sister, niece, nephew or friend.

8 Responses

  1. Lisa Imel

    It’s really courageous to share your experience. As we discussed last week sometimes educators or support staff are perpetrators of terrible things that happen to children in schools. We didn’t get to this specific topic during the conversation we had. It’s unacceptable for a students to go to school and feel anything but support in a nurturing environment. In order to help our youth develop into the best version of themselves more people should share their story to create a kinder, more supportive academic and social environment. I know you have had a positive impact on a number of people that I know and I am so grateful that you are here with us to share your reality and help others. You are creating a beautiful legacy and living your purpose.

    Reply
    • Brendan Downing

      Thanks Lisa! Part of my experience that I don’t talk about in the blog is how I never even told anyone what I was going through. I was too afraid to tell my parents (until years later) because I thought they wouldn’t love me if they found out I was gay, which is not the type of people they are, but I was so broken by what society had to say about gay people that I believed it! I never told friends because I wanted them to see me as cool, and strong. Even though I didn’t have friends and family to lean on I had two teachers in particular that created safe spaces for me within the school- Mrs. Traster, my French teacher and Mrs. Elliott, my Biology teacher & Yearbook advisor. These two women created an environment were I was able to feel safe and wasn’t worried about being called a “fag.” I think we need more teachers to be like these women, teachers who stand up for the helpless and hopeless, because if teachers don’t who will?

      I really hope that as others read my story they will take a look at themselves and make sure they are part of the solution instead of being part of the problem.

      Reply
  2. Annmarie Ferry

    This brought tears to my eyes and gave me the chills. A 13-year-old boy at my middle school who was bullied (for his red hair and freckles…what kids jokingly refer to as a “ginger” nowadays) went that next step that you (thank God) did not. I will never forget that and that’s what makes me so cognizant about derogatory comments being tossed around. My classroom is a “safe” zone from that stupidity and was the main reason I started the One Kind Thing project with my special diploma students. Kids need to be taught tolerance, empathy, and impulse control along with how much words actually can hurt. Sometimes their parents do just that; other times their parents are the reason they have their various prejudices. Either way, the shows they watch certainly don’t help, and their peers’ laughter encourages the behavior. We need to teach kids to be brave and not only refrain from saying hurtful and hateful things, but to also stand up for those who they witness being bullied. Simply not giving the bully an audience will do wonders!

    Reply
    • Brendan Downing

      Awesome Annmarie! We need teachers like you who stand up for what is right and create safe zones within the school. Bravery is a very scary thing, however if students (teachers and admins) stay quiet nothing is going to change and we will continue to lose a generation of amazing young people!

      Reply
  3. Melissa

    Thank you for sharing this. My brother (unsuccessfully, yay) tried suicide a number of times; he still bares the scars. Today he is happily married to the love of his life in MA.

    Right from the start I tell my students his story with a zero tolerance for verbal abuse or bullying of any student in my presence.

    Years ago (12ish) I had a female student “come out” to me in a poem she wrote (i helped her get published, and I still have some of her poetry). I was the first “adult” she was able to talk with. She and I are still in touch to this day.

    Reply
    • Brendan Downing

      Melissa, I think conversations with students about this kind of thing are so important. So often teachers don’t share anything personal, or any “opinions” they have for fear of what administration or parents might say. Kudos for your courage to stand up and tell kids your brothers story- also I hope your brother knows that his life and story is making a difference and touches each of the students you share it with!

      Reply
  4. suzan Harden

    Thank you for sharing your story. I am glad you made a different decision, and I hope your life is fabulous!

    Reply

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