A Tale That Had to Be Told

The slaying of teenager Lawrence King has been on my mind of late. As such, I wanted to share the following incident.

Brian* was the only openly gay kid at my high school. He wasn't the only gay student, but he was the only one brave enough to come out before graduation. Brian was two years younger than me, a sophomore, but we had a crew on campus that crossed grade barriers, mostly on account of the fact that we were all sort of strange-- goths, punks, nerds, hippies, whatever-- and we hung out on a the grassy area of the mission where our school was moved after the earthquake.

There were two cliques that hung out on the grass. In the other clique were a bunch of guys who all had the same first name. We often just referred to them by pluralizing said first name. For the purposes of this story, we'll call them the Jakes.

The Jakes hated all of us, one even threatened to beat me up for making a crack about his lame-ass tattoo, but they saved most of their rage for Brian. Now, to his credit, Brian had a mouth that pissed off everyone at some point, but the Jakes didn't hate Brian because of his knack for unintentionally insulting people, they hated him because he was gay. I know this because I was there the day that they tried to kick the shit out of him.

I don't remember how it started. After all was said and done, I had to recount the story to the girls' dean over what seemed like the rest of the afternoon.

We were just sitting on the grass-- me, Brian and two of our friends-- when they came towards us. The blond one, the one who would threaten me a few months later, walked towards us with his gang a few steps behind. He called Brian a "faggot." I remember the exact word because I had to repeat it as the dean quizzed and requizzed me as if she thought we made up the story and was trying to cause me to slip.

"I'm telling you, that's exactly what he said," I answered.

And then Brian mouthed off to him.

"He was just standing up for himself."

And the Jakes pounced Brian and he fell back or started to fall back but didn't quite hit the ground.

"It all happened really fast."

And then the two girls jumped to Brian's defense.

"Because everyone was freaking out."

And I ran over there too, and I tried to get everyone to stop, but then the deans hit the scene and we were all dragged over to the office-- girls with one dean, boys with the other.

And the girls' dean kept the questions coming, like she was totally convinced that this ordeal was our fault, like she couldn't stand the thought of having to expel the Jakes, which was the general punishment for a fight.

"Look, I already told you, they called him a faggot, they tried to beat him up."

I can't remember if I dropped the word hate crime or gay bashing, it was whichever was most commonly used on the news in 1994.

"And I think, just on those grounds, you should let my friends and I off the hook."

The dean looked stunned. Just goes to show that I did pay attention in Youth and the Law.

The situation ended up being a wash We didn't get into trouble. I think some sort of punishment befell the Jakes, just enough to keep them away from Brian for a while, but they weren't expelled. We went on hating each other until that June, when the Jakes and I graduated and we never saw each other again.

Just so that you know, this didn't happen in some stereotypical middle-of-nowhere town. It was the San Fernando Valley, a place where the LGBT community lived more openly in the mid-1990s than in other parts of the country.

I've thought about this incident a lot throughout the years and I imagine that it must have shaped a lot of the views I hold. I feel like it might seem as though I'm over-reacting if I say it was traumatizing, but when you see a gang of kids pick on another kid because of something he can't change, well, it makes an impact.

I know a lot of people have and will continue to say that there needs to be a focus on teaching tolerance in school. I humbly submit that this is a naive solution. You can't teach compassion in the classroom. If that were possible, then Brian wouldn't have been targeted on the campus of a Catholic school, where, by 12th grade, the Jakes would have heard the "love thy neighbor" routine enough times for it to sink in to their thick, nearly-shaved heads. No, kids learn by example and senseless murders like that of Lawrence King will continue until us adults start practicing peace.

* names have been changed