Tragically, Rutgers freshman Tyler Clementi committed suicide last fall after being outed by his roommate. His death was a starting point in what has become a rallying cry for the LGBT community and our allies in stopping the bullying and humiliation that so sadly leads far too many gay kids to take their own lives.
His older brother James is also gay, and has written his little brother a series of beautiful, sad letters, published by Out. Please read it all, and have tissue handy. I’ll excerpt some of it here, and then click over.
James describes the moment when he realized that his younger brother was also gay, and how they eventually came out to each other:
I ’m not sure when I first realized my younger brother was gay. I think I knew he was for as long as I knew I was. I had no idea how to bring it up; it was just something we left dangling in the air, unsaid. I was open about my sexuality with friends, but around my family there was this barrier that felt unbreakable. It slowly dawned on me that I wasn’t the only one, that I had a brother who was also gay — my baby brother, whom I had always felt protective and paternal toward. I knew I was in a position to be a confidant, a role model. But I wasn’t ready to do any of that. It would have made it much less lonely for me to grow up with an older brother who had gone through and understood everything I was dealing with — and I wanted to be that for Tyler.
[...]
It was the Fourth of July. We had spent the day at the movies, the diner, the fireworks. So many opportunities, and I kept chickening out. That night, I found him in the house listening to Katy Perry, and I saw that, if I couldn’t do this now, something was really wrong with me. I overthought it — because it ended up being this simple.
Me: “I’m gay.”
Tyler: “Oh. Me too.”
Heh. Now a few excerpts from the letters:
Pipsqueak,
You were one noisy kid. I remember walking inside and the most beautiful sounds of Tchaikovsky and Mozart would waft through every room. And I hated it.
Remember how I used to bang on your door and scream at you to stop being so loud? It was so unfair that I had to listen to your noise all the time — why couldn’t you just pick up a quieter hobby!? I would refuse to attend your recitals and concerts because I had to listen to you play all the damn time at home. Wow, do I regret that.
It is so quiet now. You were really talented; it was a gift. I’m not sure I ever told you that… maybe you didn’t care. It’s not like you needed my validation; I know nothing about classical music and you knew you were the shit when it came to that damn violin. I just feel really bad for not telling you how awesome you are, how much I respect your skills and dedication. I regret not listening to every note with open ears, not going to more concerts. Fuck you for making me feel bad; it’s not fair that you did that to me. But I would tell you now if I could, I really miss the noise!
About all the publicity surrounding Tyler’s death:
I wonder what you would think, seeing all the commotion you’ve caused. It is surreal and meaningless to see you as a mere story on The New York Times, a brief glimpse at a life with none of the detail. You were a typical college freshman, trying to adjust to a dorm room, make some friends, meet a cute guy, and enjoy your independence, and no one noticed. The headlines tell of how you were violated and ridiculed; your last moments are a cautionary tale, a scandal, something to sell and entertain.
You are on every talk show, newspaper, and blog, being held up as the issue du jour for the masses to “care about,” like they ever read you a story or wiped away your tears or spun you around in the air until you were dizzy. I wish it didn’t take you dying for your soul to know peace. I wish you could read the hundreds of letters we got, hear the thousands who rallied and marched for you, know the millions who followed your story on the 6 o’clock news. You were never alone; it just felt like it.
Having a younger brother who is close to me, I can’t handle the beginning of this letter:
Little Peanut,
I always thought that, between you and I, you were the stronger one.
That entire letter is amazing, but I don’t want to spoil it by merely excerpting it. Nor do I want to spoil the rest.
Patrick Wallace posted this over at HuffPost, and it needs to be shared far and wide. A little backstory: this is a kid who was taken from his frankly unfit, drug-abusing mother at age eight, thrown around the foster system, and then adopted several years later by a gay couple. As with many kids adopted that age, Zac had a lot of problems. Very often, it’s gay couples who are willing to take the kids that nobody else wants. Here is the letter that Zac, now 15, read to his family this past Christmas:
To my Family,
This is the first Christmas letter that I have ever written. I feel like since I am getting older, I should start writing a letter to the family or just talk about how I thought the family’s year has gone until Christmas.
Ever since I ended up in this family people have told me that I was lucky. I have always known that I am lucky, especially when I have two dads that love me so much as Dad and Dadio. My family is very special to me. Even when we fight and even when we argue, I know they will always love me. Yes I am a lucky boy to have ended up here after spending so many years in foster care and not knowing if I would ever have a family.
I didn’t grow with a dad. My birthmom had many boyfriends and she did a lot of drugs and partying. My sisters and me were taken from her on my eighth birthday. It was not fun to have police in my room on that day. It made me sad and this sadness I carried for many years and it got me in a lot of trouble. Then I landed in a great foster home after having lived in 12 different homes in three years. It was when I lived there that both my foster mom and social worker told me there was a family that wanted me. There was a catch: it was two dads!
Honestly, it didn’t matter to me. I told them, “well, I never had a dad, now I get to have two!”
The start was tough and rough, and I put them through hell and back. I did awful and nasty things to them both. I stole their credit card and spent thousands of dollars online. When we went on my first vacation out of the country, I stole stuff from a souvenir stand – they found out and made me go back to the shop to return the souvenirs and made me pay the lady who owned the shop for the stolen property which then I had to give to a local kid. I didn’t get it and thought they were being mean.
When I stole their American Express and maxed it buying stuff online I was only 12 years old. They were very upset, but Dad made sure I got the message of how serious this was. He took me to our local police station and reported me to the police captain for having stolen again. I was taken to an interrogation room and talked to by three police officers. All the time there I only wanted my Dad to come in and bring me home. I wanted to turn time back to before my stealing so I would not be there and I would not have hurt my parents so much. I learned my lesson and NEVER stole again!
But Dad and Dadio brought not just me into this family. They also added my brother Derrick. What I can say about Derrick is that he is really cool, he is funny, he is an awesome gay guy, he is a one of a kind guy, he is my bro. Next they added Nick. Nick can get on my nerves sometimes, but in the end he is pretty cool. He is a fast leaner when it comes to math and multiplying numbers. And with that said, I will go to the roots of the family.
Dad and Dadio. They are my parents and they are always here when I need them.
When it is dark they are the light,
When I feel frightened and chill’s,
They are the warmth I feel.
When I am hungry they cook my meals.
I did not put a lot of time into the poem, but in the poem you see my parents. The people that show me the light. The people that warm my heart when it gets dark. The people that cook my meals. If I could only ask for anything for Christmas I would only ask for my family.
By Zac
Those are the family values the Religious Right is fighting against. Just sayin’.
The Religious Right may cynically use the term, but they certainly don’t own it. Here, a Republican straight guy in New Hampshire, standing up for his gay brother and talking about why he supports marriage equality:
UPDATE: Craig Stowell, the straight brother in the video, has a petition up at Change.org, asking New Hampshire legislators not to repeal marriage equality. Go sign it.
If you haven’t seen this story, of an older, athletic brother who sticks up for his younger brother who likes “girl” colors and toys, to their Dad no less, stop and read it:
That’s when big brother stepped in. He said to his dad, “It’s my money, it’s my gift to him. If it’s what he wants, I’m getting it for him, and if you’re going to hit anyone for it, it’s going to be me.” Dad just gave his oldest son a strong stern stare-down, and then left the store. Little brother was crying quietly. I walked over and ruffled his hair (yes, this happened all in front of me). I said, “I’m a girl, and I like the color blue, and I like shooting games. There’s nothing wrong with what you like. Even if it’s different than what people think you should.” I smiled, he smiled back (my heart melted!). Big brother then leaned down, kissed little brother on the head, and said, “Don’t worry, dude.”
I’m a bit worried that the older brother seemed to assume that the Dad was going to be hitting one of them. But then again, that’s what happens in families with “traditional values” sometimes.
If you missed this story, last week, Janice Daniels, mayor of Troy, Michigan, embarrassed herself quite a bit when one of her Facebook posts started going viral. In it, she complained that she would have to throw away her “I Love NY carrying bag” now that “queers” are allowed to get married there.
This prompted a lesbian couple named Amy and Tina, who have children, to show up at the city council meeting and explain a few things to Ms. Daniels. The resulting video is amazing:
In case you missed this yesterday, it’s stunning. Ruben Diaz, the Democratic Bigot of the Bronx, who has led New York’s fight against gay people and our lives, has mentioned in passing that his granddaughter is a lesbian, in order that he may suggest that he doesn’t Hate Anyone, because after all, how could he? He’s got one in his family! Now? His granddaughter has had it. Erica Diaz took to the pages of the New York Post this weekend and decided to address her grandfather’s disgusting bigotry in public, and bless her for it. Read the whole thing, but here are some of my favorite bits:
But my grandfather should know that as he continues to skewer the marriage-equality bill on the radio, television and in newspapers, I am listening and reading. And I’ve finally conjured the courage to stand up for what is right.
[...]
When I was younger, marriage equality was not an issue for me. But now, as my grandfather ceaselessly and callously comments on the issue, each and every word stings, since I live with my girlfriend of 2½ years, Naomi Torres, and our two sons, Jared and Jeremiah Munoz.
This fight is personal.
My family deserves the same benefits as others. Naomi — whom I would like to marry — should be able to do things that straight married people take for granted, like make a decision for me if I’m sick.
You go, girl. She seems to recognize that her grandfather’s words of “love” are meaningless. It’s something that a lot of gay people have to slowly wrap our heads around. That the “unconditional love” that we are supposed to receive from our families is simply nonexistent when family members say things like, “I will never agree with your lifestyle. I pray for you every day. I will always love you, blah blah blah.” No. They do not. People who don’t understand sexuality can get a pass for a year or two while they educate themselves and wrap their heads around the idea. And if the family member doesn’t offer support after that? Well, then it’s time for the LGBT person to learn to accept that the love they got from that family member was always conditional. It’s a sad realization, but a healthy one, because sometimes the greatest lessons come not in what was modeled for us, but in what was not.
Old Ruben has had a chance to learn the meaning of unconditional love. He has decided not to. He has chosen to abandon a key member of his family in his pursuit of state-sanctioned bigotry. Sad. Sometimes it means it’s time to move on, and sometimes it means it’s time to write an op-ed about grandpa in the New York Post. Again, I say: You go, girl.
Last night on Facebook, I gave Jan Brewer a hair of credit for vetoing a birther bill that would require candidates to prove their US citizenship, either through a birth certificate or perhaps, a circumcision record [really], to Arizona’s Secretary of State before being allowed on the ballot. Apparently even Jan Brewer is weirded out by the idea of a candidate bringing his ritual penis cutting certificate to the State House.
But let us not get too excited, please? Jan Brewer is still one of the world’s worst wingnuts, and the goalposts of “too crazy” have been moved so far to the right in the past several years that she really deserves no credit for doing one sane thing. Moreover, on the same day she vetoed that birther bill, she signed this one:
Yesterday, Arizona Governor Jan Brewer (R) signed Senate Bill 1188, requiring state-funded and private adoption agencies “to give primary consideration to adoptive placement with a married man and woman, with all other criteria being equal.” This doesn’t mean that gay couples wouldn’t be able to adopt in the state, but they would have to fall to the back of the line simply because of their sexual orientation.
Absent any evidence that straight adoptive parents are better than gay adoptive parents [religious dogma is not evidence, fools], and flat against the needs of her state’s children, she decided to go ahead and sign this bigoted bill which simply seeks to make gay and lesbian couples’ lives more difficult.
“The governor’s action today is harmful to children in foster care and group homes who are seeking a permanent home and the support of a loving, caring family,” Mann said. “SB 1188 takes the focus off of what’s in the best interest of a child when adoption decisions should be made on a case-by-case basis, according to what’s in a child’s best interest. Each case is unique. For example, adoption authorities may have the choice between placing a child with a beloved single aunt — or complete strangers. The only consideration should be determining what’s in the best interest of the child.”
Ricky Martin, who announced he was gay in March 2010, is being blasted for his sexuality in a series of homophobic slurs coming from clergy in his native Puerto Rico.
Martin, in the midst of his Music+Soul+Sex tour, was called out in separate interviews by two major Puerto Rican church figures, On Top Magazine reports. Cardinal Luis Aponte Martinez of San Juan urged Martin in an interview with Primera Hora last week to stop promoting his homosexuality.
“Personally, I admire Ricky for the great artistic gifts the Lord has endowed him, but please, for the love of his children, for whom I imagine he wants the best, try to set an example to our youth of the great values we all share, besides sex,” the Cardinal said.
Uh, it has very little to do with sex, but with sexuality, which is actually a different subject. I would not expect a Cardinal, forced into [assumed] celibacy by his career choices, to be an expert on sexuality, so this may be new information for him.
This comes on the heels of an even harsher rant from Pastor Wanda Rolon, the head of a large northern Puerto Rican church.
“[Ricky Martin] wants to take people to hell!” she wrote on her Facebook page. “RM is its ambassador.”
Wanda is dramatic! I would imagine, though, that Ricky Martin is a pretty confounding figure for closed-minded religious leaders to deal with. He’s got a beautiful family, loves his kids, is quite talented, seems by all accounts to be an overall nice guy, and so on; he’s everything that wingnuts lie to themselves and say that gay people are not. He’s an example of why wingnut messages about gay people just don’t play with our increasingly globalized, technologically savvy younger generations. They know better than to buy into the religious hatred, because they’ve seen with their own eyes that it isn’t valid or true.
Your blogger also likes to have an excuse to post pictures of Ricky Martin. Just sayin’.
Tragically, Rutgers freshman Tyler Clementi committed suicide last fall after being outed by his roommate. His death was a starting point in what has become a rallying cry for the LGBT community and our allies in stopping the bullying and humiliation that so sadly leads far too many gay kids to take their own lives.
