Love in Action

I’m the last one to talk to them.

My five friends have already spoken,

And over the past three days

I’ve grown closer to the other twenty-seven,

People I was close to before

And people I never thought I’d say a word to.

Granted, they all heard me speak the first day

(Two of the adults cried),

But this time means more to me.

This is the talk where I bare my soul,

Where I tell everyone about the lowest point of my life,

“The deepest gutter of the deepest valley

Of my personal life graph.”

Ask me a year ago if I’d share this story,

Much less in front of thirty-two of my peers,
I’d laugh,

Say, “that would just be reliving it.”

I do relive it, in a way,

Describing the event requires it.

I relive the nerves,

The fear,

The instinct to turn into myself and die.

This time I don’t, though.

This time, as I listen to the music I chose

(Janelle Monae’s “So Afraid,”

How fitting), I read the words the first five wrote me.

I laugh, I remember.

I’m not in the same place

I was three years ago.

Adrenaline spikes,

Is the song almost over?

Am I going to miss my cue?

I whirl around, only to realize

That the song isn’t over, and I have

At least a minute to look at the crowd,

Thirty-two peers, another seven adults,

Before I can start talking.

One of these boys has called me a fag,

Another has called my friend the same.

Who knows how many times any of them

Have made gay jokes to each other,

About whoever,

It doesn’t matter.

My principal is here,

The one who promised to bring change,

But hasn’t, yet

(Well, he did once, but then he changed back).

Will he be offended by what I’ll say?

Will he think I’m acting in bad faith?

Will this only impede any progress

I’ve made but can’t see?

It doesn’t matter.

These words are important.

My thoughts need to be said,

My ideas need to be heard,

My love needs to be acted on.

That’s what the talk’s about, anyway.

I talk a lot about fear

(How meta is this poem?),

As I try to help them share their love.
I share with them tangible examples:

Giving food to a friend,

Helping someone study,

Writing people letters,

Praying in front of them.

More relevant to my own story,

I come out to them,

Though they all already know,

Because being out is how I share my love.

I lobby for the publication of my club,

Not daring to look at my principal,

Who’s already heard so much on the topic,

So much from me and my friends.

One example I give them,

Though I don’t say it explicitly,

Is what I’m doing right now.

I’m showing them my love,

I hope they know

What I’ve known since last night,

That I love each and every one of them,
Regardless of our past,

Regardless of our present,

Regardless of our future.

What I was scared of before

I push through today

Until soft country tones play me out,

Love is a wild thing,

But it’s what gets you through fear,

So wildness is just what I need.