But then...again

As the sixth grade year began to take its leave, I was never so happy that the summer was within reach. At least for a few short weeks, I would be free of the stress of these kids who found it increasingly fun to taunt me and shout things in my direction everyday. After seeking help from school counselors, administrators and teachers-I soon realized that none of them were in any way prepared to help the situation. I cried most nights about what was happening to me at school, and would often pretend to be "sick" so that I wouldn't have to go the next day. Most of my friends who I had had in elementary school had fled, a few stayed by my side-but only for a brief while. When it wasn't cool to be seen with the "queer kid" they fled too.

Perhaps the hardest of friends to whom this hide and seek "game" was part of their day, were my "church friends". I grew up in a Southern Baptist church, and was there every time the doors were opened. I was very involved in the youth group and singing in the choir. Church, was sort of a haven for me-a place where I could be in secret who I was-and outwardly who everyone wanted me to be. These so called "church friends" from the youth group would be my best buddies at church, but come Monday-they barely looked at me much less spoke to me.

The last day of my sixth grade year, one of my "best friends" from church-Scott, came up to me during field day and along with some other kids, started laughing at me and one kid, Bob-shouted out "Jason's gay". They all laughed. I walked away and sat on the hill beside the field, and just watched the events of the day. When it was my turn to participate in a relay, I made my way to the line. When it was my turn to run-I fell. No-I didn't fall because of that sixth grade awkwardness-I fell because Scott had tripped me. I ruined the entire relay.

Scott would go on later in our adult lives to out me to an entire congregation of Southern Baptists in Frankfort, KY the town where we grew up. From that "outing" the pastor of the congregation called me at my office one day-and literally told me I was going to hell and that I was no longer a member of that congregation. This would be an impetus to a huge divide in a congregation that was moving forward. Now, the congregation has dwindled-the church is stagnant and the church where Scott now attends-well that's where my father goes, and they "pray for me" all the time-that I won't be gay anymore. Now-that's love (don't you think)?

As for me-we'll chat later about my involvement in a wonderful congregation.