My name is Molly and I am a 16 year old straight girl who’s fed up with how many people act toward gays, lesbians, bisexuals, and transgenders. There’s nothing that shocks me more than hearing a well loved friend or family member say something distasteful about someone else. A lot of kids at my school speak as if being a gay, lesbian, bisexual, or transgender individual is something not only to be ashamed of, but a choice. Obviously it is a choice but not in the way many people seem to refer to it as.
It isn’t a choice like deciding whether to do your chores or not, because a choice like that can be changed by willpower. I can choose to clean my room or to not clean my room. If I clean my room one day I can still choose not to the next and vice versa. However, no one can successfully will themselves into changing a part of what makes them who they are, and nobody should feel like they have to.
A common argument I make to my straight friends is, “Why are you straight? If I told you tomorrow that it wasn’t acceptable to be attracted to the opposite sex, would you be able to switch that attraction to the same sex as yourself?” Every single one I’ve said that to hasn’t made a rude comment about gays, lesbians, etc. in front of me since because I made them think about what they were saying. The thing is when people around you hate something, sometimes its easy and automatic to concentrate on the hate itself instead of on the reason for the hate.
When you think about what you’re against and why, a lot of prejudices dissolve. In my opinion the biggest and worst hate crimes are when people don’t ask themselves the reason why they hate something.
I’m Bryce and I am fifteen years old.
Ever since I have been in 5th grade, the school students have bullied, harassed, tortured, and neglected me over my sexual orientation, but the funny thing is, they didn’t even know if I were to be straight, bisexual, or gay.
I would go to school every day, constantly scared and deathly worried that today would be the day that I would get beat up because of my sexual preference. I would walk into school thinking that there would not be a single chance that I could get out of the situation that I was in. So instead of stepping in, and putting an effort to making it stop, I would only hide and would never try to do anything to try and make the situation go away, because I figured that since it was happening now it would never be able to end in the future, and in a way, that is true.
We are all equal. We have all been this way since the beginning of time. I am glad to see people giving a damn. I am PROUD to stand with you as a straight male. I believe everybody should be allowed to love, and nobody should be allowed to force hate. Keep up your fight… I will always stand with you.
I am a seventeen year old bisexual girl, but no one knows. I date girls from out of town so that my friends don’t find out. I go to a continuation school that is full of gang bangers. One of my best friends came out that she was bi about two years ago. Someone broke into her house in the middle of the night and cut her up. She now has scars from her forehead to her neck. I just don’t want that to happen to me. I can’t tell my parents either. I tried once and my mom told me to get the f**k out of her house. I will not be someone else though. I am who I am.
My name is Mary! I am only in high school. I am a homosexual and lean mostly towards women. I came out to my Mom when I was only 13 but knew I liked girls since I was 6. People have always made fun of me and called me a fag! I was punched in the face and told that lesbians were only good for males’ enjoyment in the porn industry. I am stronger now and am happy with the fact that I can be proud of who I am. I don’t care what others think. All I care about are the others like me and that people who support me!!!
I went to a pretty big school, around 560+ kids per class, so there is no surprise that there was at least 1 or 2 gay people in school. This one hate crime was directed towards one guy, who was a friend of mine, and was the lead in one of the school plays. He had came out about 3 years prior, right around the time when he started high school. He was gay, and he was not shy about it.
It was pretty amazing since I have known that I was bi-sexual since I was 12 or 13 and was to afraid to come out to many people. I did not start to come out to friends until I was about 16 or 17. However, back to my story, one night after the first show of the play a couple of kids had gone to our school rock, a giant boulder out in front of the school that kids can paint to announce home football games and who they are playing, friends birthdays and so forth. The kids went to the rock one night and had written “God Hates Fags” on the rock.
The school quickly covered it up with new paint, however not before plenty of students had already seen it. This story flew thru the school like wild fire. The next day, a few seniors who were friends with the kid who the hate crime was directed towards, went thru the school and spray painted “Love” all over the school, on the sidewalks and the benches, etc. They found out right away who wrote “love” every where and suspended them and refused to let them graduate with the rest of the class and they would not get their diploma.
My name is Justin and on the night of March 7th 2011, I was the victim of a hate crime. I was waiting to buy cigarettes at a gas station when the man ahead of me accused me of standing too close to him. I didn’t believe I was but I apologized and gave him more room. Instead of letting the situation go the man then began assaulting me with crude questions: “what are you a f**king faggot?! If you ain’t a f**king faggot, why would you be standing so close?” I tried to ignore it.
I bought my cigarettes and tried to leave the store but the man would not relent. At this point I was irritated but as a last appeal of apology, I turned to say “Look man, I didn’t mean anything by it.” This apparently was the wrong thing to do. The man then pulled his shirt back, signaling that he had a gun and said “What the F**K you say to me?” in a voice that froze me where I stood. He wouldn’t do anything, not in a room full of witnesses and a video camera right above us. He then walked up, put his hands in my face and said “Explain something to me, why the f**k would you stand so close if you ain’t a f**kin faggot? Are you a faggot?” I could have lied… but why? Reluctantly, I said “Yeah.” after a moment of holding my breath that seemed to go on forever, the next thing I remember is it going black.
I didn’t feel anything at first, but I remember feeling like I was on the inside of a drum and the combination of a “crunch” and “thud” sound resonated through my head. It wasn’t until the second hit (or more) to the face that my mind said “Oh my God, you’re getting hit. DO SOMETHING!” I remember hitting him back. He advanced and I defended myself. We wrestled in the store until we knocked shelves over. He stood up and rushed me until I was pinned against the bullet proof glass of the check out counter trying to fend off more of this man’s punches. “Could you call the police, PLEASE?!” I urgently pleaded to the clerk. Instead of complying with my request, he addressed my attacker saying “Kill it. Kill it bro, I don’t have time to be cleaning up this mess!”
I was compelled to stay in the closet until I was 18 because I went to Catholic school my entire life. In high school, I fell in love for the first time. We were forced to keep our relationship secret because the school priest had full jurisdiction over school matters and could easily expel us. We were inseparable… eating lunch together, texting during class, even sneaking flowers into each other’s lockers. I was slowly accepting the fact that I was a lesbian, and tried to reject all of the negative attributes associated with “gays.”
She was the only person that could make my stomach tingle just by looking at me from across the room, the only person who didn’t judge me, the only other person who I could be myself around. Cliche, yes… but I knew damn well that she loved me. And I loved her just as much. Our relationship was so emotionally charged, and I had never felt that with any male that I had dated.
When I was 25, (in the early 80s) I attended a birthday party at a friend’s house. Lots of people attended and there was lots of alcohol available for everyone. Admittedly, I had my share, although I was careful on how much I had to drink as I knew I had to drive myself home. At the party, I hung out with a friend of mine, who I thought was gay, but wasn’t sure. During the coarse of the evening, we decided to go for a walk.
As we walked down the street, thinking we were alone, we ended up holding hands. I remember stopping to light my cigarette. We were in the middle of some conversation. The next thing I remember was being on the ground surrounded by eight guys (who were originally at the same party). They took turns beating and kicking us. I don’t remember the whole experience, but I do remember it wouldn’t stop. They spit on us and kept laughing, calling us names. The next thing I remember is driving home, bleeding from my nose and mouth.
The next morning, with black eyes and bruises, I went to the police station to report the incident. I can’t tell you the whole conversation, as this happened years ago. But what I do remember, is the police officer asking me if I really want to file a report. “Do you want the whole town to know you’re a faggot?” He suggested I go home and let it be since there were no broken bones. There were no laws to protect me. I felt if I couldn’t get help from the police, I had no choice but to go home.
I went to prom with my girlfriend. Everyone at school had been really sweet and accepting, so I assumed that they wouldn’t cause any problems.
Turns out that one of them is dating a homophobe, who didn’t like the fact that I had brought my girlfriend with me, so he tried to beat her up. I stood up for her, and he beat me instead. He also destroyed my car, and gave me minor brain and nerve damage in the process.
Him and his girlfriend split up, and although my girlfriend and I aren’t together anymore, the bashing only brought us closer together.
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The following is a statement from Give a Damn Campaign founder Cyndi Lauper about the 13th Anniversary of the passing of Matthew Shepard ...Author: Admin
Hate crimes can happen anywhere, at any time. In fact, in the U.S., one violent act of hate takes place almost every hour of every single day.