by Carson Polk, Student Reporter
Being raised in Alabama, many people are surprised to find out I’m a lesbian. They always ask the same questions, “Were you safe?” “How was it?” “How did you hide it?”
And that’s the kicker: I didn’t. From age 13, I have been announcing to the world and anyone that would listen that I am gay. From my parents to the kids at my high school, everyone knew. I mean, you couldn’t go a conversation with me without mentioning it.
And five years later, I am still saying it because at some point we couldn’t. At some point in history, we were looked at as predators and freaks. We were fired, killed, beaten and kicked out of our own houses for it.
Wait… no, that’s not right. ‘In history’?
Oh, my bad.
I meant it still happens today.
I meant thousands of people are victims of hate crimes every year.
I meant Channing Smith, a sixteen-year-old from Tennessee, took his life on Sept. 23, 2019 after being outed as bisexual on the internet by classmates because being dead is better than the pain he would feel for the rest of his high school career and further.
I meant, on Oct. 8 , 2019, in a few days from now as I am writing this, there will be hearings in the federal court on whether or not people can be fired from their jobs for being in the LGBT+ community.
That’s right.
Because hey, unemployment for being queer isn’t a big deal! Right?
And listen, I’m not saying LGBT+ History Month in the grand month of October is not important. I’m not saying all of those people who have fought so hard for me to even say the word “homosexual” meant nothing. I, and other queer people around the world, are so thankful for what they have done.
So yes, let’s remember the Stonewall Riots, the 1969 riot that gave us the pride parades we celebrate today. Let’s remember Karl Heinrich Ulrichs, the first person to openly speak on homosexual rights. Let’s remember all the judges in the world to rule in favor of equality on any terms. This is a month to celebrate from where we have come and be thankful for the others who fought.
But remember every time you say we have nothing to fight for anymore: turn on a computer. Turn on the news. And for once in your life, open your eyes to the horrors you do not fall victim to, but the ones others do.