Tangible journal entry that I decided to reproduce. I like it.


Today I sat through a rally—already an unpleasant enough experience as it is—in front of a loud band of punks. Punks, without the good connotations of rock: the messin'-with-people-just-to-be-jerks kind of people.

There were all the signs that the seat choice wasn't the best one... It had been one of the few areas of bleacher still open (why we took it, of course), and one of the dudes had his feet up on the seat in front of him, slouching and making mean looks to people who attempted to interrupt his footrest space. Richter did, in the end, and got kneed in the back throughout. I regret, a little, putting him through that.

Said punks made—I could hardly call them snide, as that would imply some level of intelligence—comments throughout. Loudly. Sexual innuendos about the cheerleaders. Whoops for their chosen favorite jocks. Booing. Part of high school (at least as a member of the more band-tending group) is about ignoring the people who make apes of themselves.

But something struck me. B-Boy Club was up freestylin', and Adam busted his moves (if I knew anything about dancing, I'd love to better identify it). The ape punks yelled something to the effect of, "He's gay! Get off the stage!" I had just been noting, with the visual example, the way Adam dresses: awesomely tidy. But the collared shirts, sweaters, argyle, are just fodder for such idiots as the dudes sitting behind us. It's not as if anyone else was jeering at Adam; he danced skillfully. And it's not as if kids like the ones behind us even matter (especially when they say stuff like that). As a band kid, a geek, a member of the more bohemian community, you just let comments like that roll off. But this one made me so mad.

I have a whole lotta respect for Adam: ASB President, band cheerleader, Comp Civics-level nerd, argyle-toting bi guy. One of the kids who proves you don't have to be cliquey or social élitist to be popular. In other words, he is awesome.

And maybe it's that something in me automatically associates with any kid they're calling gay. I stick with the bullied rather than the bullies. (I guess that makes sense, but: ) I'm a band kid. I'm a gay rights sympathizer, an unliberated something between the occasions when I'm mistaken for male and when some elegant tough chick catches my eye. I've a boyfriend, and so whoever else I'm interested in is irrelevant at the moment. (Besides which, bi girls aren't terribly abundant, unlike the males, of which there are many respectable real-life [at my high school] examples.) And it's not like I want to make a big deal. I exist as I exist, and that's my policy.

So: Dear Adam,
I support you.
And great moves, by the way.
Sincerely, Susie