Hate Kills. No doubt about it. Matt Shephard is non-living proof of it. Remember Matt? Young Wyoming college kid, pistol whipped and strung up on a fence in the snow to freeze to death because he was gay. The guys that did it went to jail. Matt is dead. Hate kills.
I lived in Northern Colorado for almost 10 years. Matt's death affected me a lot. It brought back memories of the guys that used to drive down, no matter how bad the weather, from Laramie to Colorado so they could hang out with other gay guys in relative safety (and I say relative) in Fort Collins, the closest thing to a big city at the time. It also reminded me that Matt could have been me. Hate Kills.
Back then Fort Collins had perhaps 100,000 people. There were neat, manicured lawns, flowers and little bunny rabbits in the Spring. It is also home to Colorado State University, the Aggies. There were bucks with full racks and golden eagles munching ground squirrel on the road. The people were, for the most part, really nice and nothing particularly exciting ever seemed to happen.
In addition, for Northern Colorado, Fort Collins was relatively liberal back then, likely due to the influence of a University in their back yard. There was even a gay bar in town (read it, ONE). I ironically discovered the gay bar when it burned down. I had no clue there was a gay bar in town until it showed up in the newspaper. Guess that's just the low key nature of gay bars in a small town.
Now, about that fire... One of the gals put a lighter to the Christmas tree that year to see if they really burned as fast as everyone said. It did. The bar burnt down. Two people were in the bathroom and did not know about the fire. One of the patrons, Buck (perhaps another story, another day), risked his life to pull them out of the fire. Buck will always be a hero to me. Top notch in my book. A man that cared about the community who carried a heart of gold on his sleeve. The problem was that Buck didn't know CPR. The Firemen putting out the fire suddenly didn't either. Go figure. Something about having to resuscitate gay people and all of a sudden the Firemen get shy. The two gay patrons both died of smoke inhalation. Nobody even tried to resuscitate them. There were people along the street above chanting, "burn faggots burn". Some kind of religious thing I suspect. Hate kills.
Fort Collins did have its good side too. They rebuilt the bar. Yes, we had a real gay bar. We had the cutest guys that would drive down from Laramie, Wyoming. Of course, the Fort Collins guys would go down to Denver most nights. The mayor, bless her heart, even pushed through a non-discrimination policy that included sexual orientation, a gutsy thing back then. Of course, she woke up the next morning to find buck shot in her car. In all fairness, she was not in it, but it was very rude reward nonetheless. Hate kills.
We always put a float in the gay pride parade in Denver. It was the social event of the year. The sun glasses went on. The shirts came off. Everyone was festive and cheery. We even ended up on the front page one year. Not a good thing in a small town. We had sun glasses... They never quite figured it out for certain. Good thing that. Hate kills.
At least it was fun until one of our friends was whacked in the head with a two by four. The cowards snuck up at night while he was sleeping in his truck, guarding the pride float. They drug him out of the truck, still groggy and hit him in the head with a two by four from the float. That year, we marched for Mark. He was a PhD chemist. He was never quite the same after that. He suffered brain damage that made it really hard to visualize chemical structures. Hate kills.
Reverend Phelps was always there at the parade as well with big signs that spoke of Hell and Damnation. Nasty signs that spoke of hatred and disdain. Hate Kills.
The problem with all this hate is that you internalize it after a while. You start to believe the papers and right wing conservative politicians with their crafty messages. You start to believe that you cannot ever be a good person unless you stop being gay. We all know how well changing your orientation works. It doesn't. If you're gay, you're gay. Get used to it.
The anti-gay propaganda is particularly tough on the good kids. These are the over achievers, the valedictorians, the captains of sports teams, presidents of honor societies, class presidents and eagle scouts. They work hard to please their parents, their coaches and their teachers. When one of these kids turns out gay, it's like hitting a brick wall. How can something you cannot change, something you are likely born with, be so horrible to people that don't even know who you are.
Futhermore, if you are living to please everyone and finally grasp that you cannot change being gay, everything shatters. You are faced with a choice, abandon the basic tenets your life is built upon, that you are here to fit conventional ideas of good and pure or end it once and for all. I was one of those teens: well liked by students and teachers, valedictorian, eagle scout, president of the honor society, yaddah, yaddah. That wall hurt, a lot... I thought about how much easier it would be to end it all. The pain was constant and never ending. Lucky there wasn't a gun around. Hate kills.
I'm even luckier that there are good people in this world that care about the people around them. I'm lucky that I had friends that cared enough to matter when it really came down to the wire. I'm lucky I had friends that walked me through the tough times and helped me to learn how to care about myself again, gay or not. Friends that showed me that being gay is not such a horrible thing. Friends that showed me that gays are normal people who can love and be loved. Friends who consoled me late at night when it seemed that there could be no hope. Friends that kept me out of trouble when trouble was in the offering and friends that ever so gently helped me out of the closet. I am still alive and kicking and all the sassier for it. Nevertheless, hate kills.
I still think about those nights sometimes. Lying on the carpet alone hoping everything would just end. The bad times. When I hear stories about good kids that commit suicide, I wonder if they were gay too. I wonder if they hit that same rock wall. It is those times that I get so furious over the sheer irresponsibility of politicians that would use anti-gay hatred as a platform to get elected and religious leaders that would use anti-gay gospel to drive donations and attendance at their churches. How ignorant can they be? Don't they understand that the next gay kid may be their own? That child might well be theirs. Surely they must know that hate kills.
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