Preparing for that arduous trip of a lifetime known as the Soulforce Equality Ride in January, I don’t think I could have even imagined the lengths to which my life would be re-molded, challenged and transformed through 2007.
In March and April, I embarked on that journey with 50 other LGBT, queer and straight ally students and youth. We traveled across the country visiting Christian colleges and universities that openly (or not so secretively) discriminate against LGBT students and faculty. In the months prior to the trip, I spent my time preparing and taking care of daily matters I wouldn’t have the chance to oversee once I was gone.
After we collectively accrued more than 90 individual arrests at over 30 educational institutions, I came home changed by the personalities, insights and love of 50 new and close friends — people I know I can trust and count on for the rest of my life. I came home to the beautiful Carolinas with a better understanding of the world around me.
I also came home in debt. Being out of a job for four months and away from home for two left me with no choice but to pull out the credit card (although I’m sure I spent plenty where it could have been saved). I also lost a bit in the progression of my academic career. But even if given the chance, I wouldn’t trade that truly life-altering experience for anything in the world.
Once I returned to Winston-Salem and Greensboro, however, I felt lost and confused. I didn’t know exactly where I fit in or what I should be doing. I felt empowered and strong — carrying with me a sense that I should be doing something grand and important. I just couldn’t seem to reconcile the lessons of the Ride with my mundane, everyday life.
How do you re-adjust to home life after being surrounded by 25 good friends (on my particular bus) 24 hours a day for two months? After experiencing the familiarity of friends living and working for equality in the close quarters of hotel rooms and a tour bus, how do you adjust to sleeping alone, not waking up to a hotel lobby full of friends and the smell of fresh coffee? How do you deal with the fact that you are now 300, 500, 1,000 or 3,000 miles away from those special friends who were constantly by your side while you laughed, cried, slept, ate and worshipped?
In July, I had the opportunity to join another Soulforce activity, meeting up once again with many of those close friends from the Ride. On the Right to Marry Campaign in New York we visited state legislative leaders, other elected officials and communities, attempting to educate them on the issues of marriage equality and the hardships — of both the legal and social varieties — imposed on LGBT-led families.
It was during this time that my year-long journey took a surprising and wonderful turn. While staying as a guest in a community member’s house in upstate New York, I logged into Gmail and, low and behold, my good friend Ed had sent me a message all the way from Raleigh. (It reminded me of a song: “If I die in Raleigh, [at] least I will die free!” The sweet feeling of “home” is sparked by the slightest event when gone for an extended amount of time).
In the message, Ed told me a position had opened up at an LGBT media company in Charlotte. He encouraged me to take a stab at it, so I decided I would.
Going into the interview process with Q-Notes publisher Jim Yarbrough, I had a feeling of “well, it would be great, but how likely is it?”
To be honest, I didn’t think I would get the job. I went to work with my cousin as a server at a Japanese steakhouse near my home. I couldn’t refuse a good working wage to tide me over until I could go back to school in 2008.
To my surprise, at the end of August I got a call from Jim inviting me down for a second interview. When I was offered the position, I’m not at all ashamed to admit that I almost cried.
Working in and for the LGBT community has been a dream of mine since I started a gay-straight alliance as a freshman in high school. I never thought my career would get a jump-start through the gay press. I had never even foreseen myself being a journalist. In my mind, I was just a guy who had been writing an LGBT blog since 2005.
At 21, I have plenty of time to fulfill all my dreams of professional advocacy and, God help me, public office.
I have so many generous and loving people to thank for the blessings I’ve received this year — too many to name here — but I appreciate each and every one who supported me. If there is one special year I’ll remember when I’m reminiscing as a white-haired 80-year-old queer, I’m betting 2007 will be it. |
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