Drama abounds

There's never a shortage of things going on in April:

• AIDS Walk is still happening tomorrow. It'll just be moved into the Union Ballroom.
• Bingo is also going to happen. Of course, the odds are not good that Sophie will be able to make it to town. And if the roads don't open today or tomorrow, I'll be doing the show by myself. YIKES!
• A poopy person wrote a nasty letter to the editor about one of the events this week and said some really nasty things. We, of course, took the high road and wrote a couple of letters in response, turning meanness into learning. Go AIDS Walk Committee!
• Work is going to be rather overly busy and stressful for a while. Nothing I can talk about, of course, but suffice it to say that people are stupid.

I know...it's a WEAK update, but I wanted to put SOMETHING up.

The Walk Approaches

Today is a day of good gay news. Iowa became the 4th state to allow gay marriages after a unanimous decision by the Iowa Supreme Court. That should take effect April 24th. Tonight is the Elton John Concert, which is certain to raise a large chunk of change for one of my favorite organizations: The Matthew Shepard Foundation. The Shepard Symposium on Social Justice is concluding today, and there've been some incredible moments, speakers, ideas, and community development. And today is the day the first ever Wyoming AIDS Walk commercial found a home on YouTube. Check it out, as my friends at 89 Second Productions in New York did an outstanding job on it! Forward the link to your friends, family, and anyone you think might be interested. Encourage them to attend the Walk, drag queen bingo, and/or the week of educational events leading up to it. Help them donate time, energy, or funds wherever they can. It'll do your heart (and our communities) good.

Lists

It's that time of year again, folks. I know, I know...I've mentioned in the last couple posts that things have been busy. But it hasn't changed! It's gotten to the point that without lists of some sort, I don't know which way is up. I've spoken to a number of classes recently. Women's Studies (Love you Jess!), Social Work, Education, and Nursing students have all listened to me lately. Tonight I have to attend a dinner meeting for work, though it's really for PACMWA. Our office is doing most of the planning and arrangements, and Nell wants Tracey and I there.

Jesse has Founder's Day stuff for the fraternity this weekend, and I might be helping a friend install some new toys for her computer. There's karaoke tomorrow night at the Library, and you can bet I'll be there belting out my favorites. Next week I have AIDS Walk meetings, drag queen conference calls, and am speaking to more classes. I'm also speaking at the Junior High, as my old mentor teacher asked me to come be part of a discussion of diversity.

Within the next few weeks, I'll speak to classes for Social Work, Communications, and Geography. I'll present 2 SafeZone sessions, including one for the Shepard Symposium. I'll attend the Elton John concert and after party, and will go into high gear for AIDS Walk. Work will be quite busy too, and spare time will be rare and precious. Sexual Harassment Prevention training, diversity sessions, and random meetings and committee discussions will be crammed into the normal office work, and I'm not exactly looking forward to it.

Lists seems to be a necessity for my future, as well as several calendar and scheduling tools/tricks. List of bills, repairs on the house, maintenance for the car...I check one thing off and another 3 pop up. I realize that this is just a part of life, and that it will not continue at this break-neck pace forever. Sometimes it's hard not to get bogged down in the length of list, or the shear number of them I have going. Left foot, right foot...repeat as needed. Thank goodness for cocktails, a loving man, and puppy therapy. If only I didn't have to work over Spring Break.

Today's lesson: We can all get through this, though it will take strength and patience. It's hard sometimes, but take a step back and look at the big picture. This, too, shall pass.

Recipe for a great night

Last night we asked Bobbers to come over and regale us with tales of his adventures in Sweden. He had to beg off due to errands, obligations, and having woken up at 4am. Instead, Mr. Man kidnapped me and said only "We're going on a date." He'd packed everything we needed already, and told me I should change out of my nicer clothes, wear something comfortable, and that it would be "a long date." We got in the car and despite having 3/4 of a tank of gas, went to the station and filled up. Needless to say, my curiosity was piqued. 90 minutes later we arrived at our destination, and it was marvy. Here's the recipe:

• Red Bull, Gatorade, and snacks for the drive
• Two pairs flip flops
• Two large terrycloth robes
• Two swimsuits
• Two towels
• Two souls who aren't seeing enough of each other lately due to schedules

Combine in one large pool of hot water from a natural spring. Sprinkle lightly with assorted locals for color and flavor, not to mention endless people-watching entertainment. Soak for 45 minutes and enjoy!

I know, I know...I've not been mosting much lately. Work has been keeping me very busy right now, so I don't have as much free time in front of the keyboard. I'm actually having to do work, and I do NOT approve. ;) I can hardly believe it's been a month since my last post. Well here are some updates and thoughts:

• The new baby is here and doing fine. Lulu is too precious for words, and is adjusting nicely to life in Wyoming. She's getting along well with her new brothers, and is becoming less timid. She's spoiled rotten, and the boys are getting plenty of love and cuddle time too to ensure that we don't run into problems with jealousy. We've located the camera again, so a range of photos will be coming soon.
• Planning is well underway for this year's AIDS Walk. Things are going very well this year, and I'm working on details for Drag Queen Bingo too. It should be one of Laramie's most exciting events once again! April 18th...mark your calendars now!
• For the first time ever, I have someone in my life when Valentine's Day rolls around. This will be the first time I've had someone to celebrate it with, and Jesse's too. We're not doing the usual dinner and flowers thing, though. As usual, I'm helping Janet down at Killian's Florist make it through her busiest couple of days of the year. I start tonight after my day job, and will help get things ready and organized. I'll probably also help prepare some of the orders and deliveries for tomorrow. I'll also be helping out Friday night. Saturday is the big day, of course, and Jesse's going to help too. The plan is for me to help out in the shop and he'll drive one of the vans doing deliveries. We'll be together in a way, and it's actually a lot of fun delivering smiles and happiness to random strangers. Then we'll have cocktails in the shop at the end of the night, and Jesse and I will no doubt go out somewhere to have our first real V-day.
• I wanted to share a new term I cooked up the other night. I was describing one of the bartenders at our favorite watering hole, The Library. He's trying to become a fire fighter too. After agreeing with Jesse and Mr. Jones that he's not hard on the eyes, I added "He's also got that 'Oh Garsh' quality about him, kind of a corn-fed naievete." As we continued driving, I thought about the mash up of a French term with a pastoral descriptor, and was rather proud of my new oxymoronic neologism. (Look it up!) Just thought I'd share.
• My taxes are done and filed. I can't wait for the refund check to get here. It's going to exciting things like a transmission flush, paying off bills, and groceries. We're such party animals.
• Wyoming's Defense of Marriage bill failed in the Senate. Never made it out of committee. So someone decided they'd take it up in the House. While it did make it out of committee, it died on the floor in a 25-35 vote. Focus on the Family dumped time and money into the effort. So glad it was wasted! Many, including some of my friends, jumped into attack mode right away. Some didn't just try to respond, they almost went into a panic. I think some forgot that legislation of this nature has been introduced every year since 1994 in Wyoming, and that it rarely makes it out of committee. I decided to sit this one out on the sidelines. I reminded myself that we cannot all be everything to everyone, and that we have to take some time for ourselves every now and then. That, and I have a little more faith in the common sense of Wyomingites. Okay, and their tendency to exactly the opposite of what outsiders (see Focus on the Family above) tell us we should do.
• Jesse has night classes three days a week this semester, so spending time together is a precious commodity. We're still managing to go out for a drink now and then or make it to a friend's house for dinner or a movie. We've had folks over to the house a bit too, but we're not seeing enough of everyone. It's just the nature of the beast for a while. In other words, for our local friends and family, please don't take offense if we can't make it to something or haven't seen you in a while. It's not because we don't love you, it's because we're running in too many directions. We don't see each other enough, and "it ain't all about you!" ;) Also, if you've got something you want to include us in, it's best to let us know in advance. We have a calendar on the wall at home for recording our meetings, events, and obligations. Get on it sometime!

These are but of few of the recent adventures in the Rainbow Kingdom. Stay tuned for the next update, though the management hopes it will not take another month for it to happen.

After a month

It's been one day shy of a month since I last posted. A great deal has happened since then, to be sure. Here's a quick recap of the most recent month in the Rainbow Kingdom:

• Right after my last poem, I caught the cold that was running around town. I was down and out for a week, coughing, hacking, sneezing, and being generally miserable. I went to the clinic and was given some beefy antibiotics. In fact, they're the same ones we give to folks with the clap. Yes, we got a lot of joke mileage about that. When you're down and out, sometimes little smiles mean the world.
• We officially decided to get a new puppy. She's an American Hairless Terrier and we're naming her Lucretia, Lulu for short. We'll be picking her up from DIA sometime in the next 2 weeks. We've gotten the breeding rights too, and plan to start our own breeding kennel for AHT's. Check out our website: www.hairlesscowboys.com. The business cards should be done next week.
• We made a flying trip to Denver for my friend Mark's annual backyard Christmas party. Scotty and Craig drove back from Saint Louis and brought their new puppy too, an adorable miniature Aussie named Schatz (German for sweetheart). It was SO good to see them, Jerry, Adam, Kalley, and the whole Denver crew. I miss 'em all!
• We went back to Kaycee for Christmas with Jesse's family. We had a great holiday, getting snowed in for an extra day. We took the Squidly with us too, and she managed to attract the only lesbi-tyrian in a town of 250 people. Within 5 minutes of being in the bar. We helped break in the bar's new karaoke machine, and I sang many duets with my father-in-law-to-be. Everything from Johnny Cash to Bon Jovi. Jesse and I got commemorative tattoos from his cousin's fiance - we got each other's initials on our right arms. We also made the official announcement to the whole family about the engagement. Nobody reached for torches our pitchforks.
• Since I was off work between Christmas and New Year's but Jesse had to work, I donned my cape and tights to clean out Jesse's room in the fraternity. I think I should have asked for hazzard pay. All his fraternity brothers referred to the room as "the storage unit" as it was chock full of stuff and he's been staying with me since the middle of August. We managed to cram everything into the house somehow, and are filled to the rafters and busting at the seams. But he's got a full closet now, and we officially live together.
• Earlier this week I caught a VERY nasty stomach flu that's rolling around town. I lost 7 pounts in 36 hours. While that's an EFFECTIVE way to lose weight, I don't recommend it at all and wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. Wash your hands often, don't share drinks, and be careful who you kiss...at least until this bug burns itself out.

I think that's the major highlights. I wish you all the best in the new year, and look forward to another year of memories, madness, and martinis with you!

Seasons

A good friend of mine who used to work at IT recently passed away from cancer. Sharon was my date for the IT Holiday party for years, and was like a grandmother to me. Another friend described her best by saying "she was the kindest, most loving bitch you've ever met, and I want to be just like her when I grow up." Sharon used to cuss and swear up a blue streak. She told you she loved you and you damned sure knew if she was unhappy with you.

Needless to say, her death hit me pretty hard. Especially since I'd been asking friends about her the night before she passed. I'm a big advocate of reaching out to friends and family before it's too late, and yet even I can't be perfect about it. (This would be a good chance for you to call or email loved ones. I'll wait for you... Done? Great!) It didn't help that later that night we got a call that Jesse's grandmother was back in the hospital and wasn't doing well, to the extent we started warning boss-types and puppy-sitters that we might have to take off in short order. (She took a turn for the better and is doing well now.)

Add stress over money, trying to get the house in order, preparing for the holidays, and it adds up to a crappy series of events that could have me/us pulling out hair. Thanks to having good friends (and each other) to lean on, we're doing okay.

Today's lesson could be my one of my favorites, making certain you tell people you care about them, but it's not. Today's lesson is that even when the odds are overwhelming and you're feeling down in the dumps, there's always hope. We humans are incredibly strong and resilient, even when we forget or don't believe it. Lean on others when necessary, but have faith in yourself...and the Universe. Just for good measure, though, spend some time before the holidays reaching out to loved ones.

Happy Birthday

Today is a day full of birthdays for me. My nephew Alex is one today. Yes, I'm bitter that I'm not there to celebrate with him. It's also the birthday of our very own Squee-piddly! She's been an incredible friend over the years. At times I'm her "Mama Gay," and help advise, support, and care for her. At times, she does the same for me. She's 22 today, and I'm so glad she's been in my life for the last batch of birthdays. Run on over to her blog, wish her a happy and a merry, and guilt her into posting something. ;)

Thankfulness

Every year around this time I try to take a moment or two to ponder what I have. It's been a rough year in many ways. Job was poopy, money tight, house in disrepair, rights being stripped away across the country, friends moving away. Plenty of things to be stressed and worried about, and yet here I sit with a smile on my face.

I reminded myself that I HAD a job and that I had more money than some. There is still a roof over my head and I don't live in a place where I can be put to death for being gay. Thanks to phones and email, I can stay in contact with distant friends. All in all, I have a lot to be thankful for.

I'm also thankful to have enough control over my life to effect some change as well. I now have a new job, and we've done a fair amount of work on fixing up, cleaning, and redecorating the house. There's plenty more work to do, but we're making progress.

As usual, I'm most thankful for my friends and family, be they near or far. I'm thankful for a new and deep love in my life, and the future Jesse and I are planning together. Each day I fall a little deeper in love. I'm thankful for Bob and Jess, Squiddy, Ryan and Kass, Troy and Maggie, Scotty and Craig, Jerry, Jesse and Rae, Nell, Rob and Tracey, Kalley, Josh and Adam, Joe, Sean and Stubert, Mandyfish, Brendon and Tara, Jace and Leena, Chad, Dan, Dave, Sue and Mark, Ella and Alex, Dean, Greg, Ryan and Jenn, Dave and Jennifer, Lainers, Turbo and Reese, Ryan and Ethan, Beth and Wendy, Heidi and Bill, Lynn, Lisa, Jackie, Bev, Janet, Livi and Sophie, Joanna, Joee, Dennis and Judy, Torry and Julia, Keith, Kristen, Lynette, Coley and Margaret, Tamara and Mark, Liam, Mary, Max, Punch and Stephan, Rod, Christy and Rowdy, Linus, Tessa, Flynn, Todd, Zach and Whitney, and so many more.

Despite what I lack, I have so much, and think most of us are in the same situation. I'm thankful for all of you, and hold you all in my heart. I have a bounty, and my cup runneth over.

Thank you.

Two birds with one stone...

In the wake of California's passage of Prop 8, some folks in the Vermont legislature decided it would be a good time to introduce full marriage. The Governor says he'd veto. He also says he'd rather they focus on the state's funding shortages. Critics very rightly pointed out that working on civil rights doesn't REALLY detract from working on the budget, but I'm going to be a little more radical in my thinking. Go figure.

How many times do we have to tell you that allowing gay marriage makes money for you? Currently, I can get married in Connecticut. Massachussetts is removing the residency requirement, so that will be two. Folks, I'll be getting "gay married" in the next couple years, and will probably have to travel to one of these states to get the license to be all legal and official. This means tax dollars and tourist traffic. Think about the money that brings in.

Florists. Musicians. Photographers. Hotels. Caterers. Formal wear rentals, sales, and alterations. Gifts. Honeymoons. Massachussetts estimated that allowing out-of-staters to get married would mean another $110 million in the state economy plus $5 million in marriage license fees and sales/occupancy taxes. They also saw an influx of new residents as gay workers moved to a more welcoming climate despite higher costs.

Huh...seems like a simple fix to me, Governor Douglas. "We're too poor to care/do the right thing" doesn't add up.

Breakfast in bed

Since the day Jesse and I started dating, I've been the happy recipient of countless little surprises. Random flowers, whether purchased from a store or plucked from a nearby tree or bush. An unplanned visit to work to deliver a kiss to me and some candy for everyone in the office. They're all simple little gifts or actions, but they've meant the world to me.

We went to bed early on Tuesday, as Jesse had to get up early and work on his math homework. He finished earlier than he thought, so he decided to whip up a little something and serve me breakfast in bed. He woke me up 15 minutes early, carrying a tray with bacon, eggs, and toast. Nobody had every done that for me.

And it was a good thing, too, as I stepped into the shower only to discover the hot water heater had tripped its internal breaker and there was no hot water. While simultaneously trying to avoid hypothermia and stressing about how I would pay for a repair, I realized that it was still a good morning. I was still smiling over the random act of kindness.

And that's today's lesson: caring gestures, while seemingly small, can mean the world to someone, even when everything else is going south. Do something unexpected and kind for someone you care about. Make them a card, bake them something sweet, or pick up a little present for them. You never know what difference it can make.

Always the bridesmaid...

I figured I better post this quickly, as news is traveling VERY fast. Lest anyone feel slighted that they didn't "hear it here first..."

On Friday night I went out to Happy Hour for a cocktail with some friends. Jesse joined us after he was off work. We then went home and were expecting some friends over after a bit. In the meantime, we fought off the cold by making a fire. We were cuddled up in front of said fire talking when Jesse said "So you wanna marry me?" I said "sure, though it turns out that it's a bit harder to do it in California these days." I turned around to give him a kiss, and that's when I saw it:

Yes folks, I am engaged. I teared up and was speechless for about 20 minutes, and those of you who know me personally know that doesn't happen very often. Apparently Jesse had been carrying the ring around for about a month, "chickening out" every time he worked up the nerve to ask. "What if he says no? What if it's too soon?" were some of the reasons he mentioned. He'd talked to many of my friends about it already, and some had already seen the ring. (I will be continuing the witch hunt, so fear not...I'll deal with YOU all later. ;)

He called Jesse, my oldest friend, to ask permission. He'd been trying to get my sister's info but, being unaware as I was, I kept forgetting to send her "emergency contact info in case anything ever happened." We took care of that on Saturday, when he met her via webcam. "Are you sure you WANT to marry him," she asked? Thanks, sis. She told him to keep me in line (yeah, right), and that the only other condition was that he had to be a Harry Potter fan...and read all the books.

Yes, we're acting like the lesbian stereotype, but we're also not racing to set a date. Yes, it's still not legal in Wyoming, but who knows what could happen in just a year or two? I'm sure I'll keep everyone posted about plans, but it might be a while. We're not looking to "get hitched" tomorrow, so everyone take a deep breath; we'll get there. Relationships are a marathon, not a sprint.

I am obscenely happy and giddy and such, as is to be expected. How many times have I said on a panel "Always a bridesmaid, never a bride." Well, I might not be a bride per se, but I am engaged to a wonderful man I want by my side for the rest of my life. I've been jokingly saying "Fuck you California, we're doing it anyway!" But know this isn't a joke to me, or something I(/we) are taking lightly. We love each other, we're committed to each other, and we're making that formal.

One more day...

I know, I'm sick of election crap too. But it's important. We all have the right to use our discretion and make our voices heard. That's something not all countries can say, and that means it's that much more important that we exercise our right to vote. I think it's clear who I'm casting my ballot for tomorrow, but that's not what this is about.

Whether you're a Democrat, a Republican, an Independent, or something somewhere in between, get off your ass and vote. Tomorrow we get to pick a leader. We get to select the direction of our nation for the next 4 years. As a key player in global society, we are influencing the direction of the entire world for years to come. That's an awesome privilege, and we owe it to the future to cast our votes and stand up to be counted.

We will also vote for our local representatives. And ballot initiatives. And referendums. And optional taxes. This is our chance to set our own course. Vote tomorrow, or forever quit your bitching because you don't like what happened when you had something better to do.

Vote your conscience tomorrow, but for fuck's sake...
VOTE!

What if we held marriage hostage?

Last night Maximus was telling me about a catty, witty gay commentator who had a great idea. He pointed out that should Prop 8 pass in California, there are enough queer Californians to get an initiative on the ballot for next year. Prohibiting marriage between a man and a woman. Of course it would never pass, but it would point out the absolute lunacy of the current measure. But it got me to thinking...we could go even further. We could go on strike.

If voters in California want to lock us out of the Chapel of Love, let's do the same in return. What would happen if the GLBTQ folks went on strike? It's hard for straight people to get married without florists, cake decorators, and church organists. Half the choir might not show up. Don't even think about hiring a wedding planner. Designers would refuse to create or alter bridal gowns and bridesmaid dresses. Booking a stylist to get your up-do would be pretty tough too.

We make great photographers, so you better buy a bunch of disposable cameras and pray for the best. Without chefs, caterers, or waiters, you'll be dining on cocktail weenies and Oreos...buffet style. I hope that when you go to get your license, the clerk didn't have to settle for a separate-and-inequal "civil union." You'll probably going to need blood tests too, but good luck finding a male nurse or HIV clinic worker to draw samples. And just think...we have a lot of straight allies who might also go on strike with us!

I realize this buys into a host of stereotypes and is a little silly sounding, but I think you get my point. This isn't something that affects nameless, faceless statistics on a sheet of paper. It affects your neighbors, your cousins, your children, your bankers, your landlords, and your coworkers. This is about human beings and their right to love and be free in America today.

To love, comfort, honor, and cherish. For better or for worse. For richer or for poorer. In sickness and in health. In good times and in sorrow. For as long as we both shall live. Those are the words, after all. It's such a simple little vow. And we're not entering into it unadvisedly or lightly. How does anyone have the right to prevent me from making that promise to my partner? To say that my partner and I are somehow less capable or deserving of these things, or that our relationship is different and "less" in some fundamental way?

It's not about forcing any religion or church to honor or perform weddings for same-sex couples. It's not about mocking the institution of marriage or destroying the fabric of American families. It's not getting something extra, different, or "special." It's about dignity and respect, and whether or not the government has the right to tell me who I can love. Who I chose as my partner. Who I want to come home to after a long day. To hug, cook dinner, do laundry, take care of the puppies, and clean the kitchen. It's about spending our lives together in boring, codependent, quiet normalcy.

It's about having the same rights as those around us, and wanting the same thing as everyone else: simply to love and be loved. Vote no on Prop 8, and if you don't live in California, ask your friends and family who live and vote there to do so.

Time travel

Last weekend the boyfriend (Jesse, for those who didn't already know) and I went "back home" to Kaycee, WY for his dad's 50th (and cousin's 16th) birthday party. What's that? You don't know anything about Kaycee? Well, the population is around 250 people. There are 2 main streets through town, both of which are also highways. It's about 50 miles or so from my hometown (Wright) and is about an hour north of Casper. Ranching and agriculture are a large part of the community, as is mining/oil/natural gas/minerals. There's a general store, but no supermarket. There are two bars, a couple of mom-and-pop restaurants, a motel, etc. It's very small town America, and sits right on the interstate. It's also in a different time zone...around 25 years in the past.

Where else can you reserve a public hall for an event that has "No smoking" signs posted on the walls and cabinets in the kitchen labeled "Ashtrays?" Where else can you hear the Eagles followed by old school country, mixed in with "Happy Birthday Sweet 16?" Where the whole town is working together to fundraise for a statue in the new park...dedicated to the memory of the hometown local boy made good (Chris Ledoux)? Where the party included keg stands, and even some of the grey-haired party-goers were upside down?

To say that I had flashbacks to my own life growing up would be an understatement. We went out to one of the family's ranches outside town to see the buffalo and so I could see the ranch. Even stepping into the restroom reminded me of all the ranch houses I grew up visiting. There had been a late night fight resulting in an ambulance call while we were there. By early the next morning, the grapevine had the information spread across town. Over the course of the weekend I overheard several different versions, and the story grew with each re-telling.

The party was open invitation, and we had seating for around 100 people (yes, that's almost half the town). Just about everyone showed up, I think, and it reminded me of the family/town functions that I used to attend as a kid. A fish fry out at the Marquiss ranch when the hunters from Florida flew in. The annual Reynolds dance in Gillette at the K of C Hall. Brandings. Town festivals. Family reunions. Folks gettin' together who've known each other forever and probably know more about you than you'd like.

It was interesting watching faces as Jesse introduced me to people. Sometimes it was "I'd like you to meet Jim Osborn." Sometimes it was "this is my partner, Jim Osborn." Naturally I took my cues from him, but the reactions were, at times, priceless. Seeing someone process the term partner, then their eyes opening slightly as they found it in their mental rolodex. Watching someone's eyes narrow or their lips purse as they shook my hand. Seeing a devilish little twinkle and broad smile as they realized Jesse's "gay lover" had come to a public family/town function in the middle of nowehere, and that they were so happy he's seeing someone willing to do it.

Sure, Grandpa made a comment or two that might appear a bit backward. But he didn't bat an eyelash when telling Jesse and I we would be in bedroom with the double bed so we MIGHT have enough room. Jokes or slurs like "cocksucker" were overheard, but they weren't directed AT us. The only comments I heard about ME came from a couple of high school or college-age guys who were administering the often-mandatory keg stands. "He sure is a BIG guy, iddn't he?" I simply smiled, as I knew this meant I wouldn't be required to invert myself while sucking cheap beer through a communal hose.

In other words, things really are changing out there, even in the smallest towns in the most rural places left in America. Even the good ol' boys are adjusting to someone showing up to the party with his boyfriend. Sure, we didn't kiss or dance or grope each other in front of the crowd, but nobody else was doing it either. And isn't that what equality is all about? The right to be boring and normal with everyone else?

Changes

My life has changed in countless ways since Matt died, and I know it will never be the same. And though it might sound strange, I owe him so much for those changes. I’ve spent the last 10 years doing what I can to make the world around me a safer and more welcoming place for everyone. I volunteer more in my community and have done some traveling, talking to people about hate and violence. I recently changed jobs…and careers, now working in the Office of Diversity and Employment Practices. I’m working to make my passion my profession. But the impact on me and my life goes much deeper than how I earn a paycheck.

It hasn’t been easy, by any means. Many people hear the words “Matthew Shepard” and think of him as an event; I think of my friend who’s no longer here, and how much it hurts that he’s gone. I miss seeing his incredible beaming smile, the one that came not just from his mouth, but from the sparkle in his eyes and from deep within his heart. I can’t find words to describe the pain of losing someone to such violence. Working through the loss and grief in the public eye has also been a struggle at times, though I think it has made me live more honestly and openly. I speak more from my heart, and those around me probably know me better.

I value those around me more, and try to be more deliberate in letting them know it. I only had the honor of knowing Matt for a few short months before he was killed. I was planning Gay Awareness Week during that time, and kept telling myself that I would make a point of getting to know him more in depth afterwards. One of my greatest regrets is not taking that time from the start. He was worth that, and so much more. I view everyone as worth it these days, or at least try to. When I think of Matt, I call or email someone I haven’t spoken with in a while, and know my life is all the richer for it.

I try to view others as people first. I learned that from Matt, I think. He didn’t look at someone and see them as black, or Jewish, or disabled. He saw them as a person first and foremost; the rest was just insignificant differences, since we have much more in common than anything that separates or divides us. He used to strike up conversations with strangers, homeless folks, or anyone he found interesting or compelling. I think he liked learning about people, and valued their experiences in a way most of us don’t. He taught me something about the value of humanity and how we’re all connected. I suppose he taught me to give everyone the dignity and respect they deserve as a human being.

I’ve also seen the power we as individuals have to change the world around us. Romaine and I created and organized Angel Action in response to Fred Phelps’ presence in Laramie. We didn’t want his messages of hate and intolerance to go unanswered or to be what our friends and family saw on the news before they went to bed. The people of Wyoming and America deserved better than that, and Matt would have been the first to say so. We didn’t plan to become part of a play, an HBO movie, or a media storm. We just wanted to do something to combat hate, but in a peaceful and loving way. We didn’t want to sink to the level of Phelps and his group.

Perhaps most importantly, Matt’s murder taught me how important it is to stand up for those who can’t. To speak out for those who have been silenced through fear or through violence. Matt wanted to spend his life doing something to make the world a better place. He wanted to help others and make a difference in someone’s life. He can’t do that now, and so I and many others have to do it for him. I feel an obligation to carry on his dreams and work toward his goals. Someone has to be his voice, and to share his light and love with the world he’s left far too soon.

Yes, I owe Matt so much for the lessons he taught me, both in life and in his death. For the changes he’s brought about in my life, in Wyoming, and in the hearts and minds of people across the country and around the globe. Perhaps I’ve repaid that debt to him in some fashion. But I still keep telling people about him. About his murder. About hate and violence. I keep “fighting the good fight.” I do it because Matt also taught me I’m responsible for those around me, that if I stay silent or inactive I’m no better than those who killed him. I don’t want another parent to know the pain Dennis and Judy feel. I don’t want another community to be scarred by the manifestation of ignorance and fear. I do it for Matt. For his smile. For his heart. I do it to change the world the way he changed me. Hopefully that change won’t require more loss and sacrifice. Please think of Matt today, and help me build a world he’d be proud of.

I remember...

...being at the meeting, and going over the list of activites and events for Gay Awareness Week. Everyone was excited and looking forward to a great week. A poetry reading and art exhibit. Our keynote for the week was Leslea Newman, author of "Heather Has Two Mommies." She was a big name, and we couldn't wait to have her speak in Wyoming.

We went to the Village Inn after meeting, as we always did. We pushed several tables together, much to the chagrin of the staff, and were too noisy. We were celebrating our upcoming big week with pie, caffeine, and maybe even some food if you could afford it. It was a night like any other. We told stories and laughed. But like every other good thing, it had to come to an end. People started to split off, leaving to do some homework or heading out to meet friends.

Tommi gave him a ride that night. Both to and from The Village Inn. I don't know what time he left, as I wasn't paying attention. Why would I? I don't know what time he got to the Fireside. I don't know how long he was there before they approached him. I don't know what they said to him, or how they convinced him to go. I don't know why he got in the car, or what happened after they left the bar. And I never will. But he did. And 10 years ago tonight he was attacked. It was some time after midnight, but I don't know how much after.

I do know it still hurts. I do know I still have questions. I do know there are amazing people here in Laramie and abroad doing incredible work. They have opened their hearts and minds. They have looked around them, rolled up their sleeves, and jumped in...working to make their corner of the world a safer, more welcoming place for EVERYone. It might be one person at a time, or in a way that reaches thousands, but they do whatever they can.

Tonight I think of Matt, alone on the prairie on a cold and windy October night...just like tonight.

Today's lesson: Do whatever you can, whenever you can. Never underestimate your power to affect the world around you.

Full circle

Saturday was a very interesting day. The morning began with the dedication of a bench in Matt's name in front of Arts and Sciences. Dennis and Judy spoke, as did President Buchanan, and they all did quite well in my opinion. The mood was reserved and somber, though I suppose that's to be expected. The messages of the speeches were spot on, though that's not what struck me most about the morning: the crowd.

There were many familiar faces in the audience. Many were faces that I have been seeing for 10 years, and it felt so right that they were present. There were also many new faces, or at least folks who weren't here 10 years ago. That fact spoke volumes to me about whether or not "the discussion" was still going on, whether in Laramie or around the country.

Many of the folks in attendance were 8, 9, or 10 years old when Matt was killed in 1998. Yet there they were, working their way toward the front. It showed what I have known for the last 10 years. People who didn't even know Matt were (and still are!) affected by what happened to him, and conversations about hate and violence are still happening in our classrooms, living rooms, and places of worship. As well they should!

The day ended with my friend Julie's wedding. It was the shortest wedding I've ever attended; the happy couple stood under a flowered arch in the middle of the dance floor. They read the vows, exchanged rings, and kissed. Then on to dinner and the party! Not only was it blissfully short, it was perfect for Julie and Galyn.

Jesse and I sat with a table of strangers, but had a good time and even managed a little chit-chat. Everyone was simply happy for the couple, who both deserved to find a fabulous partner as they continue their walk along the road of life. The prime rib was decent, the music a lot of fun, and the floor show beyond compare. A boy and girl, probably around 3 years old, stole the stage.

They didn't know each other, though te bounced up and down while she ran in place or in circles. They were far too precious for anyone's own good, and reminded us all how fun life can be. To stay young at heart. To dance your own dance. To be nice to strangers, and that meeting new people is a good thing. All in all, a perfect way to end the night.

Today's lesson: Life and death are connected, sometimes even in the same day. We probably won't understand it all the time. We can't control it, but instead should focus on living it as best we can. You can dance a lot of dances in the meantime.

Angel Action

The President called me one day to tell me he'd gotten "the fax." The message from Phelps saying that he would be coming to Laramie for Henderson's trial, due to start Monday, April 5th. Romaine called me soon after. Like me, she was frustrated that the last thing people would see on the news would be his messages of hatred and intolerance. "Somebody should do something."

I mentioned an idea someone had sent me: great big angel wings, surrounding his group with symbols of love and peace. "Wow, that's awesome. Someone should really do that," she said. "Wouldn't it be great," I replied. She then told me that she had to go get ready for work at the coffee shop, where she used to see Matt on a regular basis. I went back to whatever pointless thing I had been doing. Two hours later, my phone rang again.

"How many angels can you get in Laramie, and who do we need to call about permits and shit? WE are gonna do this." I simply smiled and said "Yes, we are, aren't we?" She went on to tell me that she'd been talking with a friend at the coffee shop. When she'd mentioned the angels, he got chills. Being a handy sort of guy, he thought for a bit and started sketching. In a matter of minutes, he designed a simple framework for wings, and they already had 4 Denver angels lined up. Thus the angels were born.

We plotted and planned for a while. Romaine called Dave O'Malley, still a Commander with the Laramie Police Department. I called Tim Banks, Chief of the University Police Department. It turns out there were no permits required, and though they were a bit nervous about possible conflicts, we made arrangements for security and safety. We assured them that they would have no problems from anyone in wings and that we'd be going over plans with all angels in detail to ensure there wouldn't be any incidents.

There were 11 angels that first time. We gathered everyone together for a meeting beforehand, cramming people into the livingroom of my old apartment on Baker Street. We covered the basics, reviewing with everyone how Phelps operates. What they might expect to hear, and that everyone needed to fully understand this before they tried to wear a halo. We talked about how important it would be to remain silent, peaceful, and loving, and how difficult it might be. Everyone was given a pair of earplugs too, just in case the sounds of hate behind us became too much for anyone. And Romaine gave us perhaps the most important tip: "Pee before you put on your wings!" They weren't easy to get in or out of, so it was important to wring out the kidneys before gettin' our holy on.

We met downtown at her sister's shop, The Jaded Lair. Made from PVC pipe and bed sheets, the wings stretched out almost 8 feet. It was a true Wyoming morning, grey and overcast. Amazingly, there wasn't much wind, but it was still bitterly cold. We all wore coats and jackets as best we could while still strapping on wings. Hats and gloves were problematic, and few of us had them. After transforming someone into a "holy roller," they had to perform a strange form of limbo to climb out of the basement without catching a wing on the door.

We met in the alley briefly, and shared with one another our reasons for being there. "I want my daughter to grow up in a better world." "I don't want the last thing my nephew sees on TV to be Phelps." "I'm here for my brother." We were also supposed to come up with a happy thought to hold onto, so that we could have an angelic, peaceful smile on our faces no matter what horrific things we heard from Westboro. We then walked in a line down to the courthouse, dodging street signs and lamp posts. Crossing the street had to happen in 2 shifts, as we couldn't get all the angels across a light in a single group. Our stomachs were knotted, our palms sweaty, our bodies chilled to the core...and we pasted on our most peaceful smiles.

We could hear Phelps and his group shouting things like "Matthew Shepard is in hell" and "God hates fags." As we walked up to take our positions, the most incredible thing happened. Though it only happened for a moment, their group fell silent. They didn't quite know what to do about us; we had made Phelps silent. They quickly regrouped and redoubled their shouts and taunts, but we had love...and Matt...on our side. Our smiles beamed brightly. Our halos rustled in the breeze, and our wings created a white wall of love just as we'd hoped.


That's not to say it was easy. Seeing the young children holding up signs with messages like "AIDS Cures Fags" was tough, especially for the parents in the group. We hadn't quite seen that one coming. The cold was a big problem for us. We were standing in the shade of the courthouse addition, and started at 7am. We were concerned about frostbite, especially in the feet. None of us were dressed as warmly as we should be, and it's hard not to think about hate speech or hypothermia when trying to smile and be silent. As if all of this wasn't enough to keep us locked in the moment, we couldn't help but notice the snipers on the roof. Just in case something went wrong...

We had a few things to keep us going, though. We had amazing support from the onlookers, at least once they all figured out that we were not part of Phelps' group. My friend Steph ran home and returned with a thermos of hot coffee. We took turns passing it around - not to drink the coffee, but rather to warm our fingers and hands. Every now and then, one of the police officers walking the space in between Phelps and our group would whisper words of encouragement, "you're doing great, keep it up" and "thank you for being here."

After an hour we followed Uncle Freddy to campus for a second round, this time in front of the Union. As we walked, we sang an original song, "The Holy Pokey," where you put you halo in, then you put your halo out. This time we were in the sun, so it wasn't quite as cold. UMC, the Keepers of the Fire, and the Union's convenience store brought out a cart of food and hot beverages labeled "Angel Food." Sugar cookies and hot apple cider never tasted quite so good. Phelps and Company didn't quite make it through their second hour of protest; naturally we like to think it was because we successfully kept them from getting the attention, media coverage, and confrontation upon which they thrive.

As the Westboro clan drove off we let out a cheer, and those gathered around joined in with us. We all felt a huge sense of accomplishment as we paused for a group photo. It had been a tough morning, but we all knew it was worth it. We honestly didn't anticipate the amount of media coverage we'd get. We also didn't expect to be a key part of play, destined to become the most produced play in America and an HBO movie adaptation.

My sister was an angel. My boss was an angel. Classmates, friends, and strangers. We stood together, not representing any one group, faith, or sexual orientation. We simply wanted to take a stand against intolerance and hatred. I still carry the memories with me. I will never forget the sun shining on the tree overhead at the courthouse. I remember thinking of Matt's smile the whole morning, struggling to fight off tears and maintain my own smile. And I remember the feeling of making a difference. I had rainbow angel wings and a halo tattooed on my ankle to remind me that we all have wings, we just need to stretch them more often.

Some time after the fact, I talked with Rob and Dave. They were in the courthouse that morning preparing for the trial, and someone called them to the window. It gave them strength and hope to face their own obstacle that morning. Another friend, someone with whom I had worked at the junior high during my student teaching, was also in the courthouse. She told me that she and her coworkers cried as the angels walked up. And I remember so many faces smiling back at us in front of the Union.

Today's lesson: Doing the right thing isn't always easy. Standing up and speaking out for those who can't is no easier. But it MUST be done if we hope to create a better tomorrow. Do what you can in the face of intolerance or discrimination. Do what you can, even when you don't want to. It will change you life in ways you cannot begin to imagine today, and hopefully do the same for the world in which we live.

Armbands 101

I have decided to do a series of retrospective posts. I've been doing a few interviews and some planning for the 10 year anniversary of Matt's murder. I've also been talking with the American Heritage Center (love you, Keith!) about putting some of my archives/momentos/etc into a collection there. I am actually HONORED to be able to share these stories with you all. It means so much to know there’s “another generation” who care and are willing to learn. And I suspect some of the "old guard" will remember some of this, and hopefully smile, even if at times it's through tears. This first post is about the yellow armbands.

The armbands were first created by the United Multicultural Council, which was a fairly new student organization at the time. They wanted to do something that would allow students and staff to VISIBLY show their support for the GLBT community and to make a statement against violence. The yellow was inspired by the yellow ribbons used after the Oklahoma City bombing. The green circle is the international symbol of peace.

In order to create the armbands, we simply took yellow fabric and cut it into uniform strips. We then used green craft paint from the Campus Activities Cenver, also available in the craft aisle of any department store. We unscrewed the lid to the paint and poured it into disposable plates, then used the bottom of the paint lids as a “stamp.” It kept things uniform, was easy to clean, and meant we didn’t have to be artists. They were then hung on makeshift clotheslines strung throughout the old CAC. Back then there were pillars and desks and things, and we used string to create mass drying areas. We used the clothesline, couches, chairs…any surface where they could dry. They made over 1000 armbands the first day, and bought the fabric at Wal-Mart.

As it was just before Homecoming and EVERYONE on campus was feeling what happened to Matt, the armbands flew out the door. They passed them out in the Breezeway, and they were all gone in a matter of hours. Students from many groups (and even random individuals) volunteered to make more, and they stayed until the early morning. They went back to Wal-Mart to get more fabric and paint. When they found out what it was for, Wal-Mart refused to accept payment for the fabric. Instead, they simply asked “How do you want this cut?” and then the craft department spent their time cutting the armbands so the students only had to paint and dry them.

Production continued for days, and eventually there was no more yellow fabric available in Laramie. Someone must have called a friend, because at one point we got a phone call that some students from CSU were driving up from Fort Collins. They’d passed a hat around and bought as much yellow fabric as they could afford, and they intended to hand deliver it so nobody had to drive to get it.

The Casper Star Tribune printed the symbol full page in color so people throughout the state could display them. They created a banner with the symbol to march behind in the Homecoming parade. It was behind this symbol that a group of 100 turned into over 1000. It was behind this symbol that we spoke in front of the Newman Center at a candlelight vigil…with a crowd nearing 1500. The volleyball team used them to tie back their hair during games for the rest of the season. The football team had it turned into a sticker and wore them on their helmets for the rest of their season. I also saw the symbol in Washington DC when I spoke at the vigil held on the steps of the Capitol. Someone had found a copy of the Casper Star or scanned it from the internet, but there it was. In the window of an apartment just off Dupont Circle, and only 4 days after the Homecoming game. Love travels quickly.

We brought the armbands back for an anniversary. Phelps was going to be here for the Homecoming game, so we organized a Peaceful Positive Presence. Once again the Union was littered with yellow scraps and string…and hope and love. Most of the marching band wore the armband during that game, and we didn’t take any home. I eventually got the yellow threads off my living room carpet. In an odd way, I was sad to see them go.

My heart still swells when I see a dirty, dingy, faded, or tattered armband. On a backpack. On a car’s rear-view mirror. In an office. How powerful and amazing, that a few scraps of cloth and craft paint could unite thousands of strangers and neighbors with a simple message of peace and non-violence. And how universal the message. Couldn’t we all use more peace and non-violence in 2008?

Next time: Angel Action