Isla Vista Shootings: Thought Log

In the aftermath of last Friday’s Isla Vista mass shootings, there are so many things I want to say. I tried to put them together into some kind of cohesive statement, but that didn’t work well. Instead, I’ve decided to list them out:

1) First and foremost, my heart goes out to the victims’ friends and family members. You are all in my thoughts. I also wish the wounded a speedy and full recovery.

2) I quickly learned that my friends and classmates were okay, but I spent Saturday scared that someone I may know—a student, someone else—may be among the dead. I am thankful that no one I know was killed, yet I also know that that means that someone that somebody else knew was among the dead, instead.

3) I walked in front of the IV Deli Mart at 11:30am that Friday, en route to grab lunch from the Isla Vista Co-Op. I was 10 hours removed from being a victim. Around 9pm that night, I started to walk home from a workshop that was located two blocks from one of the crime scenes. I was two blocks and 20 minutes removed from being a victim. I was home by 9:15pm, 10 minutes before the shootings started.

4) My being only slightly removed from being in the wrong place at the wrong time isn’t unique at all: it is the story of thousands of UCSB students and Isla Vista community members.

5) More than anything, I am sad. I’m sad that six innocent people—people with hopes and dreams and great futures ahead of them—were robbed of all the joy that their life would entail. I am sad for their family members who now have an uncloseable hole in their hearts.

6) People sometimes try to hone in on a singular blame for mass shootings such as this one. It’s because of video games. Or it’s because of guns. Or it’s because of mental illness. Or it’s because of misogyny. But really, it’s all of the above, and then some. Mass shootings are a systemic issue: there are several parts interacting with each other. There are no easy explanations; there are no easy solutions.

7) Still, it goes without saying that these parts are worth addressing. Most misogyny does not lead to mass shootings, but it is more likely to lead to sexual assault and rape. Most people who experience mental illness are not violent—in fact, they’re more likely to be victims of violence than perpetrators—but regardless, it is worth increasing the availability of resources that may help to make their lives better.

8) I wish that the perpetrator, and millions of other people across the world, knew how to love from within. Yes, the approval of others can be nice. But nobody should need others’ approval to feel worth as a person.

9) The perpetrator’s manifesto was filled with indignance, as if he had a right to women’s bodies. No one has a right to another person’s body. I’m sickened yet not surprised.

10) Online comments (why do I bother reading them?) claim that if only someone would have had a gun that this could have been stopped sooner. Perhaps that is true: there is a grain of truth to the saying that “a good guy with a gun stops a bad guy with a gun.” But no one has an obligation to carry a gun. Whatever debate we have, we must not blame the victims: each person has a right to walk outside and be safe from any and all violence.

11) There is something surreal about seeing my normally out-of-the-spotlight community all over the news. I’m used to seeing blog posts and Facebook commentary about big national events, but it is strange to hear friends from across the country commenting on what happened in my neighborhood. Also: reading through my Facebook feed on Saturday morning–with its equal mix of posts about the shootings, “I’m safe” messages, graduation photos, and funny memes–was a bizarre experience.

12) I have never been more proud to be a part of the UCSB community than in the aftermath of this tragedy. I’m not just saying that because it’s cliché. I’m saying that because, in light of what’s happened, I’ve witnessed the community come together. I’ve witnessed so much kindness, so much checking in to see how others are doing, and so much encouragement. I attended Saturday’s candlelight vigil and was moved by the genuine expressions of grief and the words that helped to bring us together in solidarity.

13) Communities should not have to experience this kind of tragedy to come together in such a beautiful way.

14) Although the perpetrator was officially biracial, the media’s portrayal of him is steeped in white privilege. If he were black or a Muslim, his actions would be conveyed as reason that members of these minority groups are thugs or terrorists and not to be trusted. Yet no one will say that we should not trust white people because the perpetrator looked white.

15) I don’t want to see the perpetrator’s face. I don’t want to read his name. When something like this happens, particularly within one’s own community, we have to talk about it. But the perpetrator should have no glory in it.

16) I have somewhat conflicted feelings about the perpetrator. Nothing will ever excuse what he did. At the same time, I get the impression that his personal experience was one of misery. To me, that is sad. Not nearly as sad as all the misery that he caused to others. But still sad.

17) “Only love can conquer hate.” As I tried to get some work done yesterday, I was listening to Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On” and this line stood out. I don’t know what would or wouldn’t have stopped this particular mass shooting. But if everyone felt love, if everyone felt worth, and if everyone knew that others were worthy of love and were worthwhile people, too, the world would be a somewhat better place.

5 Reasons Schools Should Adopt LGBTQ-inclusive Sex Ed

As we reach the height of back-to-school season, consider this fact: While most schools teach roughly the same basic content for most subjects — math classes teach about geometry; chemistry classes include the periodic table — what schools teach for sex education is, frankly, all over the place. While the abstinence only vs. comprehensive sex education debate is an example of one divide, the gulf is just as wide when it comes to LGBTQ topics in sex education. Currently, nine states require that sex-ed be LGB-inclusive (though follow-through can be an issue), while three states require that schools teach that homosexuality is illegal, immoral, or a health hazard. In many states and school districts, though, LGBTQ sexualities are simply overlooked; likewise, LGBTQ-inclusive sex education is often overlooked in national discussions about LGBTQ rights. That’s unfortunate, though; below are five key reasons that LGBTQ-inclusive sex education is important for queer students and their broader communities.

1) It’s relevant to LGBTQ youth
Sex education ought to be accessible to people of all sexual orientations and gender identities. Unfortunately, most sex education programs were created with only heterosexual youth in mind. Such programs generally only use heterosexual couples in relationship scenarios and may not talk about the importance of condom use for preventing HIV (a relevant point for people of all sexual orientations, but an especially important point for gay and bisexual men). In 19 states, schools that provide sex education are required to teach that it is important for sexual activity to be between a married couple. That kind of curriculum can be isolating for LGBTQ youth, especially in places where there are few local LGBTQ role models and where marriage equality still feels like it’s a long ways away. Curricula that define sexual orientation and gender identity, provide inclusive relationship and STD-prevention examples, and recognize that there are appropriate contexts for sexual activity besides a heterosexual marriage are more likely to resonate with LGBTQ youth.

2) It promotes positive outcomes for LGBTQ youth
Large percentages of LGBTQ teenagers experience depression, anxiety, and guilt or shame that stem from how family, friends, and societal institutions treat their sexual orientation or gender identity. Schools cannot control the messages LGBTQ youth receive from their parents, friends, or house of worship, but they can control the school environment and curriculum. Imagine if every LGBTQ teen learned about the fact that there are a range of sexual orientations and gender identities, that no sexual orientation or gender identity is better or worse than others, and that whatever sexual orientation and gender identity they have is normal and fine. Such an affirming message can help LGBTQ youth develop positive attitudes about themselves and may prevent or address the internal tension many such youth experience. In some cases, an LGBTQ-affirming message in the classroom may even save lives.

3) It fosters a more accepting school environment
LGBTQ youth aren’t the only ones in sex ed! When heterosexual and cisgender youth learn about gender and sexual diversity, they are more likely to accept or embrace LGBTQ people. More acceptance and less bullying, besides being good in their own right, also mean that LGBTQ youth may feel safer coming to school and may experience better academic outcomes. In contrast, when teachers and other adults do not talk about sexual orientation and gender identity, it contributes to a taboo about these topics and more easily allows anti-gay bullying and homophobic slurs to exist in school hallways unchecked.

4) It can demystify the questioning process
Some people know that they’re not straight from the time that they are a few years old; for others, sexual orientation and gender identity isn’t so obvious — at least for some period of time. Consider a teen who is mostly attracted to people of the opposite sex but sometimes likes people of the same sex and wonders if he should identify as straight or bi. Or consider a person who doesn’t feel like ze is a girl or guy. Learning that sexual orientation is more than a straight-bi-gay trinary and that there are non-binary gender identities such as genderqueer can be helpful to youth as they discover and learn about their identities. Sometimes, just having a term that aligns with a person’s experiences and knowing that other people experience their sexual orientation or gender in the same way can make a world of difference.

5) It teaches about sexual orientation and gender identity as they actually exist
Regardless of a person’s moral views, it is a fact that humans have a diverse array of sexual orientations and gender identities. To only teach about one sexual orientation, to ignore gender minorities, and to suggest that a heterosexual marriage is the only acceptable relationship for sexual activity makes invisible the experiences of LGBTQ people and presents an inaccurate view of human sexuality. If we are to prepare youth of all sexual orientations and gender identities to feel good about their sexuality, make safe and responsible choices involving relationships and sexual activity, and appreciate — or at least tolerate — the gender and sexual diversity of their peers and community members, incorporating LGBTQ topics and perspectives into the curriculum is essential. Hopefully, more youth will get that kind of inclusive education this coming year.

Getting out of my Armchair

My generation has been called the generation of armchair activism: many of us spend a lot more time posting our concerns about societal issues on Facebook and Twitter than on actually solving them. I’m guilty of this myself—I often link to stories or write blog posts but seldom actually interact with people capable of making institutional changes. That’s not to say that there’s anything wrong with armchair activism: it is a very effective strategy when it comes to raising awareness. However, it can be tricky to take that awareness to the next step of creating institutional change, if that is the ultimate goal.

This past week, taking advantage of the extra free time I had for the summer, I decided to go to a public meeting and discussion about proposed public transit cuts of up to 30% of service in the Santa Barbara area. The cuts stem from the potential loss of federal funding due to a new state-level pension law that may (an official decision has not been made) violate a federal requirement for transit funding. If the cuts go through, several bus lines will be discontinued, and the transit district will put the breaks on most of the region’s weekend service, including weekend runs on the express bus that goes from my apartment to downtown Santa Barbara. (This is despite the fact that these weekend runs are routinely packed; I’ve even seen a driver have to turn people away.) This issue has both social justice elements and a personal connection for me: transit access helps many vulnerable populations–including youth, seniors, low-income populations, and people who are differently abled–get to work, appointments, and leisure activities; then there’s the fact that I use transit several times per month myself.

Before the meeting, I had read the descriptions of the proposed cuts online, and like any 30% cutback, it was painful across the board. But it was really only through being at the meeting, and building off of other constituents’ points, that I came to realize that there were other possible alternatives. When asked about the possibility of raising fares (the current fare is a reasonable $1.75, and 10-fare bundles provide a steep discount, averaging $1.15 per trip), a representative said that fares would have to double to theoretically prevent cutbacks. While doubling fares might be unrealistic (it would result in a drop in ridership, meaning that cutbacks would still be necessary), I was amazed that no one with the transit district had appeared to seriously consider a mix of cutbacks with a 50 or 75 cent fare increase. I personally proposed that the board seek public input on the possibility of charging a small premium on express buses to prevent cutbacks on the express lines. More broadly, a couple people, myself included, urged the transit district to create a handful of proposals based on a fare increase and given level of cutbacks so that the public would have more options upon which to weigh in. (I would predict that the public would favor a modest fare increase in exchange for somewhat less drastic service cutbacks.) To their credit, the transit district representatives seemed receptive to the ideas that constituents presented.

Reflecting on the meeting, I thought about which voices were well-represented and which weren’t. There were several UCSB grad students, as well as people from the community who cared about or relied upon transit. I felt that working class people were underrepresented—it would have been hard, after all, for them to make a 2pm weekday meeting. UCSB undergrads also appeared to be underrepresented, since it was their summer break and because the meeting (one of three, but the nearest to campus) was located several miles from campus, despite the fact that UCSB is the biggest transit destination in the region and despite the fact that the proposed cutbacks would impact multiple lines frequented by UCSB students.

I left the meeting with a much richer understanding of the problem, better ideas for potential responses, and also an idea of what I still didn’t know. It was far more than I could have gotten out of sharing a link or writing up a couple sentences on Facebook. Maybe in an online forum with diverse perspectives, and an opportunity for people’s ideas to build upon each other’s, I might have had a similar experience, but I don’t think that it would have been the same.

Going to one meeting is, of course, a small action, but my personal goal for the upcoming year is to become more involved–in this issue and others. I’m not sure exactly what that will look like—especially given how busy I’ll be once the school year is in full force again—but it could include going to public meetings, volunteering more in my community, or writing letters to elected officials. At the end of the day, I’ll still be an armchair activist–at least some of the time. After all, sharing links or a few sentences of commentary makes it easy to share a breadth of issues that I care about with others. But my experience and reflections have helped me better understand that I will need to do more to have the impact that I want to have.

What Will the Future of Heterosexism Look Like?

During the past several years, we as a society have moved from a place where openly homophobic jabs were acceptable to one where people who express anti-LGBT sentiments are increasingly not considered part of polite society. But do the increasing acceptance of homosexuality and the Supreme Court ruling striking down a key part of DOMA mean that anti-LGBT prejudice is on the way out the door? Not exactly. Just like racism and sexism are alive and well in 2013, I suspect the same will be true for heterosexism several decades from now. While racism, sexism, and heterosexism are all very different and often intersect with each other, the way that prejudice operates — changing from overt to covert as society as a whole becomes more accepting — has some striking similarities.

Consider the fact that while few people today would admit to holding racial prejudices, racism is still a problem. Be it treating minority individuals with suspicion based upon stereotypes, or a workplace that is less likely to hire and promote minority employees, subtle racial prejudice is commonplace. Likewise, sexist prejudices are often not blatant. If a Fortune 500 company actually said, “We will pay female employees less than male employees,” there would be an outcry, but it still happens all the time; it’s just that companies do not announce, and are sometimes unaware of, their prejudiced practices.

That appears to be the trajectory we’re on with homophobia and heterosexism, too. Sooner or later, nondiscrimination laws will prohibit discrimination based on sexual orientation and gender identity in employment, housing, and public accommodations in all 50 states. At the same time, polling suggests that a higher percentage of people will indeed believe that homosexuality is natural and acceptable. But it won’t be everyone, and while overt homophobia will likely be increasingly unacceptable, there will still be people who hold prejudiced views about LGBT people. Rather than risk their jobs or be labeled as bigots by others, these people may find other ways to express their prejudiced beliefs, such as giving special scrutiny to the behaviors or work performance of LGBT people, or through microaggressions, which are small acts of hostility that add up.

In fact, we’re already seeing a move away from blatant homophobia. The rhetoric of the anti-marriage-equality movement has shifted during the past several years from an emphasis on moral disapproval of homosexuality and, as George Takei put it, the “ick” factor, to a less explicitly anti-gay myth about the traditional definition of marriage and claims that all children need a mom and a dad. Maggie Gallagher, co-founder of the National Organization for Marriage and a senior fellow at the American Principles Project, has repeatedly expressed concerns that the expansion of marriage equality means that people who voice support for a one-man-and-one-woman-only definition of marriage will be viewed as bigots. She’s right about that, but that does not mean that people like her will suddenly become tolerant and accepting. Rather, many people with prejudiced views will find ways to express their beliefs that do not result in adverse consequences for themselves.

Merely predicting what the future of heterosexism will be doesn’t accomplish much, but there is a lot we can glean from it. Having an idea of what heterosexism might look like down the road can help us call out subtle prejudice and lead us to look for ways to better address anti-LGBT microaggressions and implicit (unconscious) attitudes. Indeed, this may be challenging; people who hold racial and gender prejudices are often unaware of these prejudices, and the same could become true (if it isn’t already) as heterosexism becomes less blatant. But it is worth being aware of what future prejudice might look like. Heterosexism will be alive and kicking in 20 or 30 years, but how we address it can impact just how forceful it will be.

A Critical Analysis of 90s Nicktoons

When I was younger, I looked forward to the summer, when I would plop my butt on the sofa and watch cartoons. Seriously, I watched way too much Nickelodeon as a child. With 90s nostalgia on the rise and summer officially here, I thought I’d take a critical, grown-up look at the Nicktoons I watched. If you want to preserve the innocence of your 90s cartoons, you can stop reading now (I won’t blame you if you do); if you’re interested in an analysis of race, gender, and sexual orientation in the shows you watched as a kid, continue on!

I’ve broken this into four main trends I saw, followed by a discussion of why they matter.

Trend #1: White main character + minority best friend
Excepting animals (the likes of CatDog and SpongeBob) and monsters (Aaahh!! Real Monsters), main characters of every 90s Nicktoon were white. I imagine that the producers of such shows were trying to strike a balance between reeling in viewers and advertising dollars (which were easier to get with white main characters) while still trying to resonate with non-white viewers and still having some racial diversity (as an all-white cast would be rightly criticized). The result was that, time and time again, the main character was white while the best friend was a racial or ethnic minority. Consider: Arnold + Gerald (Hey Arnold!), Doug + Skeeter (Doug), Otto + Twister (Rocket Power, though Otto’s ethnicity was somewhat ambiguous), Angelica + Suzie (Rugrats), and if we slip into 2001, Timmy + AJ (Fairly Odd Parents).

Trend #2: The main character was almost always a boy
Out of 11 90’s Nicktoons, the main character(s) was/were a boy in nine: Doug (Doug), Tommy Pickles (Rugrats), Ren and Stimpy (The Ren and Stimpy Show), Rocko (Rocko’s Modern Life), Arnold (Hey Arnold!), Dab and Norbert (The Angry Beavers), Cat and Dog (CatDog), Otto Rocket (Rocket Power), and SpongeBob (SpongeBob SquarePants). In one (Aaahh!!! Real Monsters), there were three main characters, two of whom were boys. Only in The Wild Thornberrys was the sole main character (Eliza) a girl. The total percentage of boys versus girls was further exacerbated by the fact that most of each main character’s friends were people of the same gender.

Trend #3: Highlighting family diversity
This is a positive aspect of 90s Nicktoons. Many 90s Nicktoons centered around a nuclear family, and there is, of course, nothing wrong with that so long as that is not the only perspective shown. Two shows—Rugrats and Rocket Power—highlighted single fathers, for Chuckie and Otto/Reggie, respectively. Moving slightly beyond the 90’s to the year 2000, Chuckie’s dad remarried, leading to a blended and interracial family. In Hey Arnold!, Arnold was raised by his grandparents, who ran a boarding house. Arnold was close to many of the boarders, and the show highlighted that it is not how you are related to people, but rather your love and care for them, that makes a family. In The Wild Thornberrys, Eliza had an adopted brother, Donnie.

Trend #4: Everyone was heterosexual
Out of all the Nicktoons I watched as a kid, not a single character was openly lesbian, gay, or bisexual. I get it that a kid at the center of a cartoon may not know their sexual orientation at a young age, but I suspect that the real problem was the potential for parental outrage. After all, Nickelodeon showed plenty of 10-year-olds with heterosexual crushes (or, in the case of Helga G. Patacki, infatuation). But even if a kid hadn’t understood their sexual orientation yet, surely parents (or, at the very least, a token gay uncle) could have. I suspect that such a move would have drawn criticism for exposing kids to sexuality, even though many Nicktoons had heterosexual married parents who, much like lesbian and gay parents, primarily showed their children (and viewers) that they loved and were committed to each other.

While on the topic of sexuality, I do want to give Nickelodeon kudos for their portrayal of sexuality in Pelswick (which technically premiered in 2000). The title character was a teenage boy in a wheelchair, and he had a big crush on a girl in his class. That may not seem noteworthy, but people with physical disabilities are often assumed to not have a sexuality, whereas this show highlighted the opposite is usually true.

Putting it All Together
So Nickelodeon had a bunch of white, male, heterosexual characters—why does this matter? It matters because media is power. 90s Nicktoons suggested that whiteness, masculinity, and heterosexuality were valued, whereas non-whiteness, femininity, and queer sexualities were treated as less valuable and less important. Notably, this is an intersectional issue: given that there were few girls and few ethnic minority characters in 90s Nicktoons, there were very few girls of color. Ultimately, 90s Nicktoons sent a message to the millions of impressionable young viewers of the 1990s that likely influenced the perspectives and implicit values they formed.

A diverse array of characters throughout the entire lineup could have exposed kids to perspectives they otherwise would not have seen. To highlight a case where this worked well, consider how Tommy Pickles of the Rugrats being half-Jewish allowed for a Passover episode that exposed kids of all backgrounds to that particular Jewish holiday. As another example, consider Arnold from Hey Arnold! being raised by his grandparents—not the most typical family arrangement, but not uncommon, either. A particular kid may not know any Jewish people, may live in a racially homogenous town, or may not know many people who are being raised in non-nuclear families. Cartoons—long after the last laugh—can give kids the exposure they need to feel comfortable and open-minded when they meet someone of a background they haven’t met in person before. That’s why it would have been nice if Nickelodeon had ethnic minority main characters, portrayals of religions besides Christianity and Judaism, or kids raised by lesbian or gay parents (though the latter may have been so controversial that it would have been unfeasible).

I’m not too familiar with the Nicktoons of today, but I get the impression that there has been a small amount of progress. A quick look at their lineup suggested that most main characters were still boys and, aside from one show that premiered this year, Sanjay and Craig, were white, too. A Google search for lesbian and gay characters on Nickelodeon cartoons turned up empty. Nickelodeon has been better in the live action department—with more representation of minorities and girls (that could be said for the 90s, as well); in 2002, the channel aired a Nick News special that discussed families with lesbian and gay parents.

In spite of their shortcomings, I still enjoy watching reruns of 90s Nicktoons. I am aware that problems with the representation of non-dominant statuses are prevalent throughout other children’s media, such as books and movies, but I am also hopeful that the cartoons of the future will become more representative of diversity in our society as it actually exists. Nickelodeon—and anyone making children’s programming—has power to influence children’s values and what children consider normal. With that power, I would say, comes a responsibility to help kids see diversity as not just tolerating differences, but as sharing the spotlight, too.

The Harm of Homophobic Sex Ed

“Homosexuality is not a lifestyle acceptable to the general public and … homosexual conduct is a criminal offense.”

As much as I wish this were a 1950s-era example of past homophobia washed away, the above text is from the current sex education requirements under Alabama state law. That is, Alabama law requires public schools that teach sex education to instruct students that homosexuality is immoral, unhealthy and, despite Lawrence v. Texas, illegal. Alabama is not alone in its anti-gay sex education regulations (that list includes Texas, Mississippi and Arizona, among others), but what is noteworthy about Alabama is that there is a push to change the law. This year Alabama State Rep. Patricia Todd (D-Birmingham) introduced H.B. 496 to eliminate the anti-gay portions of her state’s sex education law; the bill was read for the first time in the Alabama House of Representatives’ Education Policy Committee last month, and advocates from around the state have come to the Capitol to rally for it. I am excited to see this momentum and hope that it grows, but I would be surprised if Alabama or the other states with anti-LGB sex education policies eliminated their homophobic curricula in the immediate future. The sooner the better, though, as the anti-LGB status quo can both directly harm LGB youth and contribute to hostile school environments.

Anti-LGB sex education curricula encourage LGB youth to develop internalized heterosexism, the belief, based on messages and values from society, that it is best to be heterosexual. Sex education programs in states like Alabama tend to glorify heterosexual marriage as the only appropriate kind of sexual relationship, which isolates lesbian and gay youth who are neither interested in a heterosexual marriage nor able to get married in most states. But these programs also suggest that there is shame in being lesbian, gay or bisexual, that it, unlike heterosexuality, is unacceptable, a deviant choice and a health risk. Predictably, being taught such prejudice has consequences: Psychological research suggests that LGB people who come to believe messages that heterosexuality is better than other sexual orientations, or that it is bad to be lesbian, gay or bisexual, are at an increased risk for mental health concerns like depression, low self-esteem and suicidality.

It is also important to place sex education instruction in a broader context. Some LGB youth who receive prejudiced sex education have a supportive family and perhaps a supportive church or temple, watch LGB-affirming TV shows like Glee and Modern Family and have affirming friends; other LGB youth have virulently homophobic parents, are subjected to regular anti-gay sermons at church and have been taught from a young age that homosexuality is wrong. It is the latter group that I am most concerned about. While a school could provide factual information about sexual orientation to a student who does not receive it elsewhere (e.g., that it is normal to be straight, bisexual or lesbian/gay), schools in Alabama, Texas and other states with anti-LGB sex education laws become yet another place that serves up homophobic messages. That is unfortunate, because for many LGB youth, school has the potential to be one of the only places that affirms that their sexual orientation is OK.

Of course, it is not just lesbian, gay and bisexual teens who are in sex ed: Heterosexual youth can also come to believe prejudiced messages in sex education, and that is also concerning. Whereas an LGB-affirming sex education program would teach students that all sexual orientations are equally valid, prejudiced sex ed programs teach straight students that bisexual, lesbian and gay people are immoral and criminal or are at an extremely high risk for AIDS. Such messages add fuel to bullies’ hate speech by demonstrating that their school supports negative attitudes toward LGB sexualities and, by extension, LGB people.

Given that young people support LGB rights such as marriage equality at record levels, it can be easy to forget that over 80 percent of LGB students are verbally or physically harassed at school because of their sexual orientation (see GLSEN’s 2011 National School Climate Survey). That harassment, like the anti-gay sex education curricula, can contribute to depression and other mental health concerns. Notably, the same GLSEN survey found that LGBT students at schools with LGBT-inclusive curricula were less likely to be harassed than LGBT students at other schools, and were twice as likely (67 percent vs. 33 percent) to report that their peers accepted LGBT people. While it is possible that other causes explain some of this difference (e.g., LGBT-affirming parts of the country are probably more likely to adopt LGBT-inclusive curricula), it also makes sense that students come to accept the messages, positive or negative, that are conveyed to them about LGBT people.

I applaud Alabama State Rep. Todd and others who are working to end anti-LGB sex education in their states, as well as those in Congress who are working to prohibit federal sex education grants from being used for programs that aren’t LGB-inclusive. While I hope that the push to end anti-LGB sex education — and ideally adopt LGBT-inclusive curricula — gains momentum, I have not seen any indication that states like Alabama, Mississippi and Texas will overturn their anti-gay sex education laws anytime soon. I cannot quite wrap my head around why, in 2013, lawmakers would see the need for schools to go out of their way to teach prejudiced and flat-out inaccurate information about sexual orientation. But regardless of why, I am concerned: It is difficult to ask students to accept themselves and all their fellow students for who they are when their schools can’t lead by example.

When We Act Out of Fear…

It was finally time to get off the plane. I grabbed my suitcase, headed up the jetway, and entered the gate area at Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport, where I was greeted by my parents. I excitedly ran up to my mom and dad and gave them each a big hug—I had not seen them in four months.

This may sound like a 90’s flashback, but it actually happened last Friday. How did my parents manage to greet me at the gate, past TSA security, in this post-9/11 world? We were all headed to a wedding, and they just so happened to land 30 minutes before me in the same terminal. But this kind of greeting is now the exception, not the rule.

Afterward, I thought about all the times I had greeted or been greeted by grandparents, aunts and uncles, and other family members up through 2001, and how airport security changed dramatically afterward. As anyone who flies at least occasionally knows, first came restrictions on who could go past security, then came mandatory shoe removals during security, and that was followed by a restriction on all but the smallest amounts of liquids and gels in carry-on bags. I do not mind any of these restrictions in principle, but I do mind that they are reactions to terrorism.

Terrorists win when we restrict our behavior in meaningful ways out of fear of being attacked. If people avoid going to a movie theater or mall after the Aurora shootings, decide to work from home because of a recent workplace shooting halfway across the country, or—in this case—are restricted from greeting loved ones at an airport gate because 19 people hijacked and crashed four planes on one gruesome and unforgettable day 12 years ago, then terrorists have succeeded in instilling fear and changing how we go about our lives.

To be sure, I support changes that realistically might prevent a future attack. Better airport screening for weapons or investing in explosives detectors are logical responses to the 9/11 attacks and the subsequent attempted attacks. But banning loved ones from going to the gate? It accomplishes nothing. The 9/11 hijackers were paying passengers. Anybody who really wants to cause an act of terror can buy a plane ticket—and regardless, airport security ought to be good enough to thwart them.

I did not lose anyone or anything on 9/11. Yet a simple greeting at an airport gate was a reminder that while I am not a victim of 9/11, I am living in a society that, 12 years later, still acts out of fear.

*          *          *

I was already planning to write something about my weekend reflections when two bombs exploded near the finish line of the Boston Marathon yesterday, killing three and injuring more than 170. Although the bombing was on a smaller scale than 9/11, both acts were meant to have effects far beyond killing and injuring innocent people. Unlike drunk driving or workplace accidents, which also kill many people each year, terrorist acts are meant to make a whole population feel vulnerable. Incessant media coverage, while perhaps justified (a bombing is more newsworthy than continuing coverage of Justin Bieber’s guest book comments at the Anne Frank House), contributes to the collective feelings of fear.

It is my hope that we as a society can remain strong in the face of events like these. I hope we honor the heroes who helped victims, gave blood, or fulfilled their duties as first responders despite uncertain risks. I hope we consider, and are thankful for, the relative rarity of such acts of terror in the United States–what happened in Boston yesterday is commonplace in many parts of the world. Most of all, I dearly hope that we do not let events such as these restrict how we go about our lives.

My experience last weekend was a reminder that fear is not only a possible outcome from the culmination of several terrorist attacks like yesterday’s, or a single large one like 9/11, but that the ways in which we act out of fear can become so institutionalized that we do not question them. While fear may not be a choice, our actions are. At a certain point–after the U.S. government has done what it can to thwart terrorist plots–an attack may be beyond our control. How we as a society respond—and whether terrorists are ultimately successful in shaping how we live our lives: that is very much so within our control.

Marriage Equality as a Catalyst for Full LGBT Equality?

A confession: I haven’t always supported putting same-sex marriage at the forefront of the LGBT-rights movement. A friend once asked me why. “Not everyone will get married, but everyone needs a job, and everyone needs a roof over their head,” I explained. “I wish we’d focus on nondiscrimination laws first.” But I’ve waffled over this too. If someone gets evicted after their landlord discovers that they are gay, they can probably find another place to live, but no one expects same-sex couples to want to find another family, let alone a partner of the opposite sex, in order to gain equal recognition and benefits under the law. In part because of the importance of family, marriage equality has been the defining LGBT-rights issue of the past decade. Recently, though, I’ve come to realize that that is probably a good thing for the fight for other LGBT rights too.

Earlier this month I read an article in The Atlantic about how the messaging of the LGBT-rights movement has led people like Sen. Rob Portman (R-Ohio) to come out in favor of marriage equality. Sure, Portman’s change of heart was prompted by having a gay son, but also, as Noah Berlatsky wrote, “because gay rights advocates have been so successful in linking the personal and political together … in large part … by focusing on marriage.” It makes sense: Marriage is as personal as relationships get, and the themes of commitment and love resonate with a lot of people.

At the same time, other rights, especially those that benefit the less privileged, are less likely to pull at people’s heartstrings. For instance, 29 states currently allow employment and housing discrimination based upon sexual orientation. Unlike marriage, this isn’t about commitment and love; frankly, it’s about whom someone is sexually attracted to. A man who is fired from his $12-an-hour job for being gay might be in a relationship, but he just as well might be perpetually single and hooking up with men he meets through Grindr or Craigslist. Such a guy is just as deserving of protection from employment discrimination as any other LGBT person, but he’s not exactly a poster child for the LGBT rights movement.

Ultimately, emphasizing marriage equality seems to be helping the fight for these other rights. Whereas dominant images of LGBT adults used to involve AIDS or ideas of sexual deviancy and immorality, the main image is now one of committed couples. Now when policy makers and the public consider the Employment Non-Discrimination Act (ENDA), they are influenced by the image of committed couples. When people think of adoption laws, they think of committed couples. Even when considering something like the anti-LGBT bullying epidemic, people may now see LGBT youth through a more positive lens than before, thanks to the focus on committed couples. Of course, there are other factors at play too, such as more people knowing someone who is LGBT than in the past.

However, I do have some concerns about placing so much emphasis on couples and families. Not every lesbian, gay or bisexual person wants to get married or have a family, and I wonder what may be the implications of passing something like ENDA by presenting a selective image of what it means to be LGBT.

Still, I have to admit that by highlighting committed same-sex couples and playing into America’s family-values ethos, efforts toward marriage equality have helped shatter people’s misconceptions about LGBT people and put a face on other LGBT-rights issues. Frankly, the marriage-equality movement has done this in a way that a push for ENDA alone might not have been able to do, because the latter wouldn’t have focused on the relationships and the corresponding deeply personal stories that have made the fight for marriage equality so successful in such a short period of time.

Be it Harvey Milk’s call for people to come out to their friends and families or lesbian and gay widows’ heartbreaking stories of being shut out of their dying partners’ hospital rooms, personal stories have defined the LGBT rights movement. Sure, I wish that there were more coverage of the stories of the people who face harassment at work for being gay, or of the public schools that teach that homosexuality is unnatural and wrong as part of sex education, but I am thankful that leaders in the LGBT-rights movement have done a good job overall of making the political personal.

Though I don’t usually believe in trickle-down rights, I am optimistic that the fight for marriage equality will make the remaining battles for equal rights for LGBT Americans a little easier to fight. At least I hope so; it would be painfully ironic if the Supreme Court ruled that Adam and Steve can soon get married but they can’t afford to buy a house together because no one will hire them.

Debunking the Boy Scouts of America’s Homophobic Logic

Scouting believes same-sex attraction should be introduced and discussed outside of its program with parents, caregivers, or spiritual advisers, at the appropriate time and in the right setting. The vast majority of parents we serve value this right and do not sign their children up for Scouting for it to introduce or discuss, in any way, these topics.

Above is the Boy Scouts of America’s position on same-sex attraction, and its justification for its policy banning openly gay and bisexual boys from being members and leaders. Since reaffirming that position last July, the BSA has faced criticism and lost corporate donors and was to consider whether to allow local councils to decide whether to allow gay members but instead postponed the decision. I do recognize that the BSA’s National Executive Board faces a difficult process; whatever they decide will be sure to please some people and alienate others. But the decision — specifically the decision to allow openly gay scouts, or at least to allow local councils to allow gay scouts — shouldn’t be a hard one. Ultimately, the BSA’s own justifications for its anti-gay policy simply don’t hold water. Here’s a step-by-step breakdown:

1. It’s not like Boy Scouts have never heard of what “gay” means and would suddenly be introduced to the concept if the ban is lifted.

It’s not 1950 anymore. Most adolescents have already been introduced to the fact that some people are attracted to people of the same sex. Besides the adults in their lives, kids may learn about the existence of gay and bisexual people through the news, watching shows like Modern Family or Glee or talking with peers.

2. A discussion that acknowledges that a gay person is gay is not a traumatic event.

Let’s say that the BSA drops the ban on gay scouts. Here’s what a typical conversation might look like with a now openly gay member:

Scout 1: “How was your weekend?”

Scout 2: “It was pretty good. I studied for a chem test and went to the movies with my boyfriend.”

If scouts can embrace diversity in other domains, such as religion (yes, they ban atheist and agnostic members, but I’ve heard many great stories of embracing interfaith diversity), then surely they can tolerate a difference in whom a person may love.

3. It’s always an appropriate time and setting for people to be true to themselves (except in situations in which it is unsafe to do so).

When and how (or if) a person comes out is up to them, but one person’s prejudiced beliefs should not keep another person from being honest about who they are. Unfortunately, scouts who joined well before they were aware of their sexual orientation are forced to decide between being genuine about who they are and keeping the activities, opportunities for personal growth and circle of friends that scouting provides. Forcing a scout to choose is unfair and can be harmful.

4. Nothing is stopping parents from sharing their thoughts about homosexuality with their kids.

Though most kids have at least some idea of what it means to be gay by the time they become teenagers, some parents may want to share their own perspective. Nothing is stopping these parents from sharing their views however they see fit. Sure, some may prefer to wait until their kids are older, but that’s not how the world works. Kids teach each other about all sorts of things that their parents may prefer that the kids not learn until later: four-letter words, how babies are made and concepts like divorce.

I wonder, though, what parents who support the BSA’s gay ban think they are protecting their kids from. If a parent thinks that being around gay people will turn their child gay, that’s simply not true. Plus, there are already gay people in a child’s school, and there are quite possibly gay people in their Boy Scout troop who just aren’t out. If a parent fears some sort of inappropriate behavior (e.g., a gay scout making unwanted advances toward another scout), such a behavior is highly unlikely, but were it to happen, the behavior itself, and not the person’s sexual orientation, should be addressed. If the fear is merely of difference, that doesn’t seem like a good reason to exclude boys from an otherwise nearly all-inclusive organization that claims to promote character and leadership.

5. And here’s why the BSA and parents of scouts should take note.

I was a Cub Scout for four years; I quit after the fourth grade because I wasn’t enjoying it anymore. I harbored no bad feelings, though; in fact, I held a lot of respect for people who continued and went on to learn and grow through their outdoors experiences and community service initiatives. Today, I still acknowledge that a person who earns the rank of Eagle put forth a great deal of time and likely made great contributions to his community. But I do not hold the rank in as high a regard as I once did, knowing that gay and bisexual youth who are passionate about scouting may be denied the same rank not because of any flaw or failure on their part, but because of who they are. I suspect I’m not alone in that feeling.

Preparing for a Generation That Comes Out Younger

Earlier this month the Oregon Health Plan (Oregon’s Medicaid program) announced that, starting in October 2014, they would cover the health care needs of transgender youth, including puberty-suppressing hormones and counseling services. This is great news for transgender youth in Oregon whose families would otherwise never be able to afford such care, but it’s notable for another reason: This is the first, or one of the first, times that a government agency has addressed the needs of the youngest LGBTQ citizens.

While we, both the LGBTQ community and society in general, don’t often talk about queer youth who come out during grade-school years, there’s a couple of reasons why it’s important to think about this out-of-the-spotlight population. First, many LGBTQ people are aware of parts of their sexual orientation or gender identity from a young age. One well-regarded study found that the average age that gay and bisexual boys had their first same-sex attractions was just before 8, while for girls it was 9, and in many cases the same-sex attractions started several years earlier. Transgender individuals, meanwhile, may be especially likely to sense a disconnect between their gender identity and their body when they are young, because, among other reasons, gender is salient for children.

Second, LGB people are coming out earlier than before. Likely thanks to societal changes that make LGB people more visible and less stigmatized, the average coming-out age has declined from 20-something in the 1980s to somewhere around 16 today. But, because average means some people will be below that age, there are many who come out younger — in some cases far younger. Search on YouTube and it’s not hard to find clips of people who came out at 9 or 10 years old. On The Huffington Post, Amelia blogs about her experience as the mother of a 7-year-old openly gay son.

This trajectory toward coming out at younger ages means that we, both the LGBTQ community and society at large, need to be thinking about how to meet these kids’ needs. As more lesbian and gay kids come out during their childhood or early adolescent years, it will be important for schools to educate students about sexual orientation and gender identity in an age-appropriate way as part of diversity awareness, and to squelch any schoolyard myths about what it means to be gay. As more transgender kids come out before puberty, states and insurance companies ought to ensure that these kids have access to appropriate medical care that can prevent them from undergoing the painful process of maturing into a body that is incongruent with who they are. For instance, appropriate care can ensure that a biologically female kid who identifies as a boy won’t have to grow breasts.

On a more somber note, more awareness of what it means to be gay and increasing pressure to come out earlier may lead some teenagers to come out to hostile families and face painful consequences such as conversion therapy, emotional abuse and being kicked out of the house, whereas in a different era those same teenagers might have waiting until their 20s to come out, when doing so would be safer. We can already see that happening today.

The fact that more people are able to be their genuine selves at younger ages is one of the greatest achievements of the LGBTQ rights movement. Having kids come out younger also brings a new set of challenges, such as navigating skepticism from others (“Are you sure? You’re so young!”) to the fact that Billy may no longer be welcome for playdates at his friend’s house after announcing that he is gay. Of course, coming out as a preteen is still the exception, not the norm. While I figure that we’ll see more queer individuals come out at young ages, given the growing acceptance of LGBTQ people and the fact that more kids know what it means to be gay, many other queer youth may still come to understand their identity during adolescence. I also don’t want to sound out of touch with today’s reality: There are still many queer youth who struggle in the closet and are exposed to anti-gay prejudice at school and elsewhere. Nonetheless, I hope we are moving toward a time when queer youth spend little if any time in the closet. As we move ahead, I look forward to a discussion about how to best meet these kids’ unique needs.