PRIDE, PART II

please watch this first...




Today is October 11. This day is very important to me for a couple of reasons. First, is known, in the LGBT community, as National Coming Out Day. It is the day we have decided to embrace everyone in our community, and make our voices heard, our presence known, and our hearts open. Why October 11? It is the anniversary of the March On Washington for Gay Rights, on Oct. 11, 1987, where almost a million people marched on the Washington Mall for recognition of gay rights, including marriage, military service, and other issues.

Well, it's been 24 years, and we've done...okay, so far. Marriage is legal in six states now, including my dream home of New York City, and if I so chose, tomorrow I could go to a recruiting office, sign up, and serve my country.

This is important to me because I recognize that there is no ONE person who can make a difference...not without a ton of help. We are called a COMMUNITY because we share common things. Traits, sure. Politics? Sometimes. Desires? Well...not always. And goals? Depends on who you ask.

So what is that we share? An identity? Not necessarily that, either. Plenty of people who are attracted to the same sex don't call themselves gay, lesbian, or what have you, and that is perfectly within their right.

What most people don't understand about labels is that it is not what OTHERS call me in how I define myself. It is what I CALL MYSELF.

And what I CALL MYSELF is not just gay, not just an actor, or a writer, or a lover of musicals, or GLEE.

I CALL MYSELF...MICHAEL.

That is my name, and I like my name. In fact, I have the greatest name in the world. Besides being the most popular name in America for a VERY long time (I believe I read somewhere it was 45 years running at one point...), it means, in Hebrew, "He Who Is Like God."

Yeah, I know. Ego trip, right?

But more than that, it is the name I was given by the people who brought me into this world.

I also have a middle name. Roy. I don't always tell people my middle name, not because I'm embarrassed, but because it's kind of hard to talk about sometimes. My middle name is from my paternal grandfather, Roy Wayne Stratton, who died long before I was born. I never met him. I wish I had. I've heard stories over the years, stories which have made me proud, but I really wish I'd gotten a chance to meet him and get to know him myself.

So, there's that.



But...I said this day is important for a couple of reasons. It is the second reason which touches me deeper, and more emotionally, than anything ever has, or ever will. My last post was about 9/11, and how that affected me, and that is still such a great tragedy, and I would never poke fun or make light of it.

But to me, personally, the greater tragedy than thousands of lives taken...is the one taken, targeted, by hate.

I am referring to Matthew Shepard, the gay University of Wyoming student who was beaten, tied to a fence, and left for dead. He never woke from his coma, and he died in the early morning hours of October 11, 1998.

I was not even 16 yet, a Sophomore in high school, not much younger than Matt himself. And certainly not completely out. Only a handful of people knew, including my best (and oldest) friend, a couple other schoolmates (not exactly friends, anymore, anyway), and my parents, who knew in their hearts, even though they'd had the decency to go along with my "God told me not to be gay, so I'm not" phase. (Thanks, mom and dad, btw...)

I remember reading the paper (as I did every morning. I'm STILL a news junkie...) about how he'd been found, never regained conciousness, and how his mother and father stayed by his bedside every moment till after he was gone. I thought, if I could do ONE THING, other than going back in time and making it never happen, it would be to reach out to Matthew's mother, and give her the biggest hug I could muster.

Alas, I was unable to.

This haunted me for weeks, until finally, I broke down, and I confessed, again, to my parents, the truth. That I was gay, and there was nothing that could change it. I was pretty surly, if I remember correctly, and I'm pretty sure my attitude was something like "if you don't like it, then fuck you."

Fortunately, my parents were (and ARE) totally awesome, and they told me they loved me. And THIS TIME, I didn't take it back. ;O

Five years later, I'm a sophomore in college. I'm a theatre major, and I have the brilliant fortune to be cast in a production of The Laramie Project, a play that was written directly in response to Matthew's murder, and which to this day, evokes a gut wrenching sob every time I read it or think too hard and long about it.

I couldn't believe my luck. I wanted to tell this story more than anything, especially in the face of protesters with their disgusting signs of GOD HATES FAGS and MATT IN HELL and THANK GOD FOR AIDS.

Oh, what I wouldn't have given to knock some sense into those bastards...

Luckily, my brethren at Bruce Hall did it for me, all without violence, and with quite a bit of humor and charm.

But the best was yet to come.

A mere week after we finished our production, there was a very special guest speaker on campus. A woman by the name of Judy Shepard. Matthew's mother, who still travels to tell her story, and to fight homophobia all over the country.

After her speech, the audience (of which our entire cast had been invited to), was asked for questions. Being me, I sprang up out of my seat, and had the honor of asking the first question. After thanking her for taking the time to come to our little campus, I asked her what she thought her son would think of the protesters, and how he would react to them. I also asked what she would want to tell him if he were alive, and what she thought he would want to tell us.

She seemed to smile (as best as I could tell. I was at least thirty yards away while she was onstage).

She told me she'd tell him she loved him, and that he would probably ignore the protesters, or make a joke, and go about his business, because he was a peaceful person.

I was happy enough to be in the same room with this incredible woman, nevertheless get an answer from a question I had asked.

But the best was yet to come.

Thanks to a dear friend of mine (David Warner, I'm talking about you!) our cast was invited to lunch with Judy, through the campus group GLAD (Gay and Lesbian Association of Denton).

It is there I met her in person, shook her hand, told her how inspiring she was, and I finally, after five years, got to do what I'd promised I would. I gave her the biggest hug I could muster.

Tears were in my eyes, and I don't know if she cried, too, but she seemed grateful, and for that, so am I.

I left that lunch that day with a renewed sense of purpose, and a renewed energy towards fighting for equality, and fighting for what I believe in.


October 11 is a very special day in my life, and I will always remember what it means to me, and to others.



Thank you, Matthew.

Thank you, Judy Shepard.

Thank you, Mom and Dad.

And thank you to all the people out there who have fought for equality.

And to all those who struggle with their identity, and struggle to be who they are, and more than anything, to be honest with themselves, and their loved ones...IT GETS BETTER.

It might suck now. It might suck for a while. BUT IT GETS BETTER.

YOU. ARE. LOVED.

GOD LOVES YOU, AND GOD BLESSES YOU.

MISTRIAL

Lawrence King is dead. He has been for about two years, now. How, you may ask?

Well, if you've been living under a rock for two years, or simply don't read any news coming out of California, he was killed by Brandon McInerney, who came up behind him, shot him not once, but TWICE, in the back of the head.

Allegedly from McInerney's defense lawyer, he was spurred by a flirtatious come on by King, who was also known to wear high heels, and makeup, in an effort to express himself.

This BOTHERED Brandon.

Well, Brandon, I got news for you...

YOU BOTHER ME. YOU DISGUST ME. YOU MAKE ME WANT TO SCREAM AND SHOUT AND BEAT THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF THINGS THAT HAVE LIVING SHIT TO BEAT OUT OF.

Does that mean I'm gonna come up to you and shoot you in the back of the head? not once, but twice?

Well...NO. Don't get me wrong, the thought has crossed my mind. But seeing as i am a NORMAL, INTELLIGENT, MORAL person, I DON'T GO AROUND KILLING PEOPLE THAT BOTHER ME.

Instead, I tweet, I blog, I facebook. And that gets me in plenty of trouble itself.

And, hypothetically speaking, if I were to resort to YOUR tactics, I would at least have the balls to face you, instead of having your back turned, because I AM NOT A COWARD. YOU ARE A SNIVELING, PIECE OF SHIT COWARD.

I don't care if you were abused. I don't care if you were mistreated. I don't care if you were scared of a gay kid half your fucking size. You took a life. You deserve to rot in fucking prison, and then you'll see what a REAL flirtatious come on is like.

I can't wait to hear that you will spend the rest of your miserable fucking life in prison, getting raped by a gang of men twice, or three times your age, and size, making you scream and cry and beg for your mommy.

you're lucky they didn't ask for the fucking death penalty, you miserable, scumsucking piece of garbage. rot in fucking hell.

you were 14 years old at the time of the murder, and if you tell me you didn't know what you were doing, that is the biggest crock of shit this side of the world. you knew what you were doing. you TOLD people you were gonna do it. then you went home, where you could have cooled off, and took a gun to school the next day. where you could have gone to a teacher, or a counselor, or even a police officer, and told them you felt uncomfortable because another boy winked at you. (ALLEGEDLY--there's been NO PROOF).

that is how REAL PEOPLE handle their problems. instead, you took to being a coward, and a piece of...i don't know if there's even a word to describe what you are.

and to the jury of the TRIAL---

HOW FUCKING HARD IS IT??

He TOLD people he was gonna kill him! He went home and PREPARED to kill him! he brought a gun to school, INTENDING to kill him!

this is the DEFINITION of PREMEDITATED!!

So get your head out of your asses, you fucking morons! i swear to god, if there's another mistrial, i will hope and pray that someone, somewhere, makes you pay.


justice has failed again, AMERICA. you got it wrong with oj. don't you dare fucking get it wrong here again.

OUTRAGE, Part I

http://www.advocate.com/News/Daily_News/2011/07/05/Trial_to_Begin_in_Lawrence_King_Murder/


Ahem. Explain this to me...

A young boy goes home one day after school. He believes that another boy might have a crush on him, or he may even KNOW that the other boy has a crush on him. And he gets a gun. And he takes it with him to school the next day, stands directly behind the other boy, and fires not one, but TWO shots, into his head. The other boy dies hours later after being on life support for some time.

Where, in all of this, does manslaughter come into play? Manslaughter is reserved for cases such as drunk driving deaths (which are just as horrible as murders, because they can be prevented, among other reasons), but this kid displays the TEXTBOOK DEFINITION of premeditation. He thought about it. It's not like there was a loaded gun sitting around and he just picked it up and it accidentally went off. This is an open and shut case, if you follow the law.

The article says the defense claims that the killer was humiliated by the alleged advances of his victim, Lawrence King. Well, you know what? SO THE FUCK WHAT?!

I'm humiliated by people all the freaking time! People make fun of me, but you don't see me going home, getting my dad's gun, and shooting someone in the back of the head?

This even further proves the killer to be a coward. He couldn't even face his alleged humiliator, who, let's remember, did nothing wrong or evil, or against any rules. All he did was allegedly express an interest. Something he probably would've have gotten over in the coming months as he learned his crush was straight, and not available. It happens to every gay boy at that age.

So explain to me why this killer should get any different sentence than a grown man who commits a similar murder should?

He shouldn't. Yes, I know he was 14, and maybe, developmentally speaking, he wasn't completely aware of the ramifications. But that doesn't mean he didn't know the kid would die. Or that he'd get into serious fucking trouble.

I respect and admire the law a great deal. I even wanted to be a lawyer at one point (mainly so I could get paid to argue with people, hahaha), but because it's simple. IT IS THE LAW.

People complain about technicalities, such as, for instance, OJ's hand didn't fit the glove, and the cop planted it. "It's just a technicality."

NO. IT IS NOT. IT IS THE FUCKING LAW. If a cop (or anyone, for that matter) is discovered to have planted evidence, that is BREAKING THE LAW. Does that mean I think OJ is innocent? Hell no. I think he did it and I think he got away with it. He was acquitted, and we can never try him for the same crime again, thanks to that pesky little document called THE UNITED STATES CONSTITUTION.

The Constitution says, to some beliefs, that we have a right to own guns. I don't particularly like guns, but am I gonna tell someone he can't have him?

Well...I might try. I might try to change the law, or to make it clearer, or make strict laws concerning the types of guns people can have. But I still respect the Constitution, and that American's right to own a gun. I just hope and pray that he'll have sense enough to teach his kids (if he has any), or anyone in that house, for that matter, how to properly use it when necessary, and how to respect and cherish all life, be it human or animal.

What happened to Lawrence King was a tragedy, and yes, some people will think I'm only angry because he was gay. Well, yes, I am. I'm angry that some punk ass kid thought it'd be okay to kill a gay kid. But I'm angry more because someone is dead who doesn't deserve to be dead. I'd feel the same way if it was a straight kid who was dead, and yes, even if the killer had been gay.

LIFE IS SACRED, PEOPLE. Life is what happens. Life. Is. Life.



If you have a problem, talk it out. At most, go and smoke a joint and relax. But do not, under any circumstances, come under the delusion that taking someone's life will make things right. Please, be good to yourself, and to everyone around you.






So...there's that...