Yesterday, April 25th, 2008, was the date of this year’s National Day of Silence. I led Washburn High School to voice their opinions and feelings [on harassment] by not speaking.
Now, Day of Silence, as most of you know, has the goal of stopping harassment about sexual orientation, gender expression, religion and race.
Students at Washburn High attend a very hostile school. On the fliers I hung up, the first point I made was that Day of Silence was “in protest to the silence of Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgendered students who are too afraid to speak out about their sexuality.” I asked them to wear all black or any Day of Silent “gear.” I also stated, “Sexual orientation should be no reason for anyone to fear their peers. We can show all of those who are afraid to speak out, that it is alright to be who they are and that they can be accepted and loved; No matter what.”
Seeing as we live in the middle of a religious, bigoted, close-minded community, the parents and community members, along with their children, were not supportive because the first and only thing they saw and/or cared about was that it had anything to do with “gays.” And we all know how HORRID and AWFUL gays are! Psh, bullshit.
Since early March, maybe even sooner, I had been planning Day of Silence; Okaying it with my principal and all of the necessary details. I hung up sign up sheets to find out who would participate, to see if it was a waste of time. To my surprise, 60+ people had signed up [mind you most of them actually DID participate.] Washburn High is a very small school. 7-12 there are about 300-350 student bodies; in 9-12 [most of the participants] maybe, maybe, 250 students, so sixty students is quite a lot for us.
Here’s where the negative comes in. Fliers were getting torn down and scattered in the halls. Inappropriate comments like “I’m a fag,” “I’m gay,” and “queers!” were being etched onto the sign up sheets. But we took it, and held our ground. We hung up more fliers. We put up more sign up sheets.
We could not have an assembly on school property or during school hours, so we planned for the parking lot. We could not draw attention. We didn’t, the opposing did. Fools.
Slowly, the days ticked away, and the jostling that I had given the school had settled back down, finally; but for me, it was becoming more and more hectic. April 23rd, 2008, I made a very rough stencil for shirts, and dug out random spray paint. My friend came over, and we painted her a shirt. April 24th, one, lone student had his own Day of Silence, because he wouldn’t be in school that Friday. He held strong, and I was proud. That night, I went to the local thrift store and bought a dozen shirts, and then down the street to the Hardware store and got a few more cans of spray paint. I sat in the garage and cut out two more stencils and made 15 shirts in the rain that night. [I still have paint on my hands and legs.]
Friday came. I woke, hurried. I got ready, putting on my own shirt, [which, in case you were wondering, read “End the Silence!” on the front and, “What are you going to do to end the silence!” on the back] and fixed a cup of coffee that I slammed down. My mother asked me to make her a cup of coffee on our way out the door, to which I replied, “Mom! I’m about to start a revolution!” She smiled and replied, “You know you’ve done something right when you ask your child to do something and they reply, “I’m starting a revolution.” My brother and I got into the van, loaded with painted t-shirts, speaking cards, stickers and safety pins.
When we arrived at the school, my mother said she’d stay out in the parking lot before the speech I had been planning on making. I said, “I’ll be back, I need to get something and gather people.” I had gotten 10 people together, and when I came back to the parking lot for the last time…there were easily three dozen students, most wearing black, others wearing dark colors or a homemade shirt. And I started my speech, filled with anger, emotion and passion as follows:
What I find hard to try and comprehend is this: How can someone be so afraid of their classmate, best friend or relative to the point where all they can do to “RAISE” themselves up to their make believe level of “power” is to write insignificant remarks like “I’m a fag” on a sign up sheet to prove the polar opposite.
These beings’ insecurities need to be set aside for one measly moment to say “hey, I know you’re scared, but there will always be a community of supporters rooting for you. We hear your cries, and we’ll keep listening and try to help.”
I don’t…understand these close-minded people and their asinine efforts to try and shoot us down.
I’m waiting…for the day that I can be comfortable in my own skin, and NOT have to be afraid of someone hating or HURTING me. I bet you didn’t know that 50% of all transgendered people commit suicide before adulthood because the pain of being in the wrong body is too much to bear, and they lack support, love, or understanding from anyone. And for those who question “Why choose to be gay or trans?” You don’t choose to be who you are; it’s forced upon you in one way or another.
I can’t believe all the negative forced upon this idea, this hope that Washburn High could support diversity, but I also I can’t believe all of the positive. Your being here this morning has indeed lifted my spirits. It proves that we are more than a bunch of teenagers who shrug off anything of importance. It shows that we can appreciate the fact that someone out there needs proof that they will in fact be supported for being who they were born to be. Our silence isn’t going to go left ignored. By refraining from speaking, we are voicing the loudest statement anyone could hear. We are proving we care. If anyone tells you that you need to speak…they’re incorrect. When you get to your first hour class…maybe write on a piece of paper “FREEDOM OF SPEECH INCLUDES SILENCE.” And show it to anyone who tells you to speak.
Our silence for ONE DAY, is mimicking the silence of LGBT people all around the world for a LIFETIME. People in the middle east, one of my friends, told me that if he was ever found out for being gay…he’d be murdered. We are lucky that we do not live in a country like that. But we do face persecution.
Today’s DAY OF SILENCE is dedicated to Lawrence King. A fifteen year old boy who was murdered in his classroom for being gay. Always, we should think of Matthew Shepard. The first gay who was murdered as a hate crime. He was beaten, and tied to a fence post and left to rot. How do you think that sounds? Awful. Also Brandon Teena, born Teena Brandon. Brandon was the first female to male transgender who’s murder was public. It’s an awful thing, I will agree, but it cannot go left unheard. Let’s change that future. Let’s stop hate crimes like that. Let’s support.
So get ready for a day of silence. And I want you to focus on how it feels to not be able to voice yourself. Imagine being silent for a lifetime. For being hated for who you are. It’s not an easy task. But it’s something to think about.
Thank you so much for being who you are. Thank you so much for being here. Thank you so much, for understanding. You are wonderful people.
We all know what you’re doing to end the silence. And for those of you, who don’t think you can make through the day without speaking, though I recommend trying…maybe you could be a speaking ally. Let’s end the silence. Let’s make a stand. Grab a speaking card and….
LET THE SILENCE COMMENCE!
The students responded beautifully, and after, as we crossed the street to go back to school, no one said a thing. I was proud. We held our silence. Even in gym, when I got a soccer ball to the face, I didn’t make a sound.
But the one thing that had become an itch was this: there were at least half a dozen upperclassmen boys who were wearing shirts, white shirts, with a vivid rainbow, circled in red, with a slash through it, like a no smoking sign. They had done nothing to me, I had no problem with them.
But Second hour came around, Spanish, and about half way through, I was called into the office. I was forced to break my silence to talk to the principal. Now, after having to deal with this, I liked him a bit less. There weren’t many matters discussed. I was forced to sit in his office from half way through second hour to half way through fifth. We talked about how if the other students had to take off their “offensive” and “hateful” shirts, we would have to, too. In the start, I said just let them wear their shirts. Our shirts were not offensive, nor were they stating anything about being gay, so the students with the white shirts were in the wrong. Because as one of the “Rainbow Boys” who will remain nameless stated when my mother asked him what his shirts were about he said, “I’m against it.” When questioned what “it” was, he replied, “Gays.” My mother replied honestly, “No one’s asking you to support it.”
The “Rainbow Boys” were many of the absentminded people who didn’t read the flyer all the way through.
Before my mother came, I had asked to call her. I was told no. I then said I needed to get out. I was told no. So I sat, in tears, in the office, with my principal, and my LGBT friendly school guidance counselor. I finally decided to take out my cell phone and called my mother. As soon as we could see her walking in, my principal decided it was time for me to leave the office. Not a chance. Near the end, he called me on having my cell phone in school. I said it was irrelevant. He said it wasn’t. I said “You denied me my right to call my mother.” To which he said he 1) didn’t hear me [which he did because he said no] 2) was on the phone [which was true, speaker phone, I was there] but my mother stood up for me.
In the end, they got to wear their shirts, which, like I said in the first place, wasn’t a big deal. It was a waste of energy, breath, and time. I was pissed, obviously.
I went back to class and restarted my vow of silence. Which was broken fifth hour with another wicked speech about how those shirts were abuse, but seeing as there was no proof. I’m all for freedom of speech, in a POSITIVE way. Had they PLANNED like I had, I would’ve maybe even been slightly okay with it. But they didn’t. My brother made a wicked point. “You can’t wear a shirt with ‘NIGGER’ on it, what makes you think it’s okay to bluntly state you’re against gays, because we all know what a rainbow represents.” He’s a good guy.
He left that hour, and told my mom that if he had stayed in school, they would have had to tear him off of someone. But he wasn’t the only one who was upset. Most of the silenced, my classmates, were very offended. They planned a sit-in. The started a riot outside of the office. The Principal was pissed, but he talked to them.
Seeing as how most of the students don’t like him and THEY, not I, think he’s a bigot, a homophobe and an idiot [which is untrue, because he tried to understand, and he supported it] they didn’t listen to him. So I stepped in, and the feeling was invigorating. There was a crowd, 20 kids or more, most in black, standing, crowding the halls, listening to me. I spoke with power. I said their sitting here, fighting, wasn’t going to help, hat their squirming was exactly what the “Rainbow Boys” wanted. And though many of them made amazing points, it was all out of anger.
My principal kept cutting me off and “piggy backing” what I had to say, which was annoying, but at least he tried. We were excused from skipping class, which was neat. And we all learned a little more. I remember saying, “To all of you seniors, you had one chance. You made a difference, but I’m sorry it wasn’t what you hoped. To everyone else; next year will be better.”
And while I was speaking, the 10/12 grade English teacher was there, capturing our history. The day was filled with passion. A one sided fight. We were silent; we said nothing to the “Rainbow Boys.” To us, they are nothing. They are a bug on our windshield. A television we can mute. We came out bigger. And every single one of those kids that fought a silent fight, with their silence being the most powerful tool, will be a better person in the long run.
Needless to say, it was a hard, but amazing day. I hope everyone had a good Day of Silence, and next year will be even better.
