When I Was

In the ninth grade my friends who I use to sit with at lunch many of which went to the same Sunday services as I handed me a note as I went to sit down with them holding my lunch tray uneasily in my hands One sat the note on the brown plastic next to my single slice of pizza and looked away As did they all I read the note alone Too ashamed to let them see me read it or to let anyone see in case they knew what it meant to read a note huddled in the hall where no one ate They said I could not be their friend That I made them uncomfortable because I was gay But I was not gay And as middle school children often are they were mean They did not leave it alone and let me simply cram the letter in my pocket and shuffle away in silent tear filled silence No They took the wrinkled and ripped paper from me and read it aloud for all of my peers to hear And what could I do but listen as I got shoved back while trying to take it These scars run deeper than any others that stain my body When I was a senior in high school I dressed myself in black I felt that this was who I was And secretly when no one was around I worried that I might be gay You see I liked the way men dressed I liked how they looked and tried to look as they did The men on band posters and in magazines I would see them and know they were attractive and what I wished to be And I'd silently wonder if I was gay After all what does it mean to be attracted to someone Was I I could not tell anyone I was too scared Too ashamed of what they may think or say Was the note true I could not bare to know Society told me that it was not natural And so I kept quiet all the while remembering that I had a girl friend That I was attracted to them as well And this was different in some ways I did not want to be them but wanted to be with them But there are others whose rights have been taken Whose childhoods are filled with similar stories as these but at the same time nothing at all the same They walk the halls as I have alone in the gray lockers that make up time and stories and memories that will inevitable shape us into the person we are today And although the laughter may be hidden it is there biting and hating and drowning There are those who are denied the love of another through marriage There are those still called names by men who are more like the adolescent middle schooler than the wise seasoned adult There are those who still fear their own truth for fear of many who they themselves have come victim to abuse name-calling and the scars that come with growing up. But some still stand with hope and conviction that a day will come when men unite together in a common understanding of good and truth and moral rightness Where we will embrace our brothers and sisters and daughters and sons in loving arms Taking hold of their dreams and pushing them forward Showing them the things that a future brings where tolerance and acceptance are given with the simplest touch from another human being