In a Moment of Hate I Almost Broke

For those on the outside looking in on my white picketed fence town I would like to share with you my story and by the end hopefully you will see that not everything is peachy keen in the town of Wilbraham. Families fight, children are bullied, teens are drinking, sexual harassment is occurring, rape has occurred and gangs have made an appearance. Are all these things happening at the same time and in the same neighborhood? No they are not but when and where they are happening is not important. What is important is that it is happening and it should not be ignored. Of course every resident wants to keep their town a safe place for their families and maintain a friendly environment but you cannot and should not do so by being hush-hush or putting a Band-Aid over undesirable occurrences within the town.
I graduated from Minnechaug Regional High School on June 1, 2012 and the event had me very nervous because I was wondering if people were able to see my sundress through my white gown on stage or if I was going to trip on my way off stage. Not once was I reminiscing about my moments in high school until I was sitting down in my seat listening to the speech that my class President delivered. He reminded me of the good times we shared as a class but as I looked around taking one last look at the faces that belonged to my former classmates I was reminded of the bad times that we shared.
I was very active within my high school’s Gay Straight Alliance club and that made me a target for bullying in my neighborhood. I knew when I started my activism for the LGBTQ community that some people are not accepting and can be cruel to LGBTQ people but for that reason exactly is why I started my fight against Homophobia. So I can eliminate or decrease the amount of hate within America to make more room for acceptance.
Recently within a few months I was faced with a homophobic bully and this bully wasn’t going to school with me but was with my younger sister and we all shared the same bus stop as well as lived in the same neighborhood of Wilbraham. For a couple of weeks this bully constantly called me a faggot and no she did not mean a pile of sticks. She didn’t directly call me a faggot to my face but whenever she saw me around she would openly yell it then laugh with her friends. One day my little sister and were walking to the bus stop together and when we got there we talked amongst ourselves. Within a few minutes the girl who had been yelling out Homophobic slurs approached me from behind and I knew she was coming because my sister saw her. I turned to face her because I knew she wanted to say something to me but I had no clue what she was going to say. She started yelling in my face; “You wanna fight me? I know you wanna fight me?” I was shocked because I had no idea why she thought I wanted to fight her; I wanted her to stop with the homophobic slurs. She started to take off her earrings and roll up her sleeves.
Tears began to fill my eyes and for each tear of mine that fell represented each victim of Homophobic bullying. My bus approached and my good friend who I have known since middle school caught a glimpse of the situation and she ran off the bus to my aid, she tried to get me to come on the bus with her but I told her that I needed to go home so she walked back to the bus and on her way there she said something to the bully but I couldn’t make out what she had said. My little sister walked me home with a reassuring arm around my shoulder probably because she remembered what my mom said to us earlier that morning, our mom told us; “If anything happens come right home.” When we got home my little sister explained to our mom what had happened. After that my mom took the appropriate steps as a parent and fought hard to make sure the girl who bullied me didn’t get away with it. As far as I know the girl was never punished for what she put me through.
This story that I told you is very true and it is one of my own but there are many others who have yet to share theirs. We all have a story but some of us choose not to share perhaps it’s because there is fear of opening old wounds or that no one will believe what they hear. When you graduate high school you begin to discover more about yourself as you try to move up in a society that will repeatedly try to knock you down.


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