I have an enormous amount of work to do this week, but I have to post! For those of you who don’t know me personally, life has been more stressful than ever. I had a conflict with my roommate which I resolved by moving out of my beloved college dormitory (the room I spent my first three semesters of college in) and moving down the street to a different, much noisier, much bigger residence hall. Instead of going to my classes, I was living at home for a few days and eventually packing and leaving. That is, unfortunately, just the tip of the iceberg to the beginning of my April. I’ve spent the past seven days unpacking and catching up in all of my classes.

But screw all of that for the next hour or so. We need to talk.

Last week, before all of the unnecessary drama unfolded, I was asked (along with the staff advisor to PRIDE, Matthew) to give a presentation to two classes in the sociology department about how to become an ally for LGBT people. This isn’t something new—I’ve been lecturing to college students for almost two years. Matthew joined me in presenting around October. At first, I didn’t like working with him; I’m narrow-minded when it comes to working with people. I like being the center of attention and I have my own style of presenting, but after working with him a few more times, I found that we work remarkably well together. Matthew is great for the actual ally training process, going through the steps, giving examples, and talking about personal experiences. I dominate when it comes to the statistics, legislation, and all-around politics. We balance each other out. It’s hard to imagine lecturing about the ally program without him.

At the end of the presentation, we open the floor for questions and comments. We will answer every question that is respectful and honest. Everything short of our personal sex lives is addressed.

Typical questions we get are:
“When did you know you were gay?”
“When did you come out?”
“Do you plan to have/raise children?”
“Were you born gay?”
And recently, “What do you think about Tila Tequila?”

Some students also share stories about themselves, relatives, friends who are LGB or T.

When we finished our second lecture of the day, we did what we normally do: we allowed students to ask questions or make comments. The first two students asked about what it was like coming out—typical, nothing new there. A man sitting in the front row who looked older then everyone else, maybe early thirties, raised his hand. We called on him.

“I’m a Christian and I hope to God you both are.” He looked pissed off and waited for a reply. Matthew chose not to state his religious affiliation and even though it killed me a little on the inside, I knew it was best if I kept my mouth shut. I’m proud to be an atheist, but I’m not an idiot. People kill people over religion and I wasn’t about to test this man.
He continued (and I’m paraphrasing here), “I love all people. No one deserves to get spit on or beat up or killed; I don’t wish that on anyone. But it says flat out in the Bible that homosexuality is wrong, so why do you live like this?”

I answered the best I could: “Now I’m not a member of any clergy, I’m not a theologian, I don’t have a huge amount of information about this, but I have done a little bit of research… hopefully this will satisfy your question. It says in the book of Leviticus and in the New Testament that homosexuality is a sin. The book of Leviticus also says you can’t eat shellfish. Exodus gives you permission to sell your daughter. I also feel like if homosexuality was such a big deal to Jesus, he would have mentioned something. The New Testament mentions that homosexuality is a sin, but Jesus never says anything about it. I think you need to take the Bible with a grain of salt.”

I could have continued, but I knew that no matter what I said, he would never be convinced.

A few questions later, he raised his hand again, directing the question to me after I mentioned that one day I would like to raise children. “If you want children, then why do you choose to be gay?”

Matthew and I spoke in unison: “We didn’t chose to be gay; we were born gay.” The professor kindly asked the student to stop. He was disgruntled, but obeyed.

I could have left that room defeated. That man will probably never conquer his homophobia… but I didn’t. At the end of class, the professor apologized for her student’s behavior. I reassured her that it was fine. Just because that particular student didn’t learn anything didn’t mean someone in the back row with the same questions left unsatisfied.

Sometimes ignorance hurts more than usual. When I am asked to leave a public restroom because people assume that I’m male, or I repeatedly hear drunken college girls slur “You can’t go to the party? That’s so gay!,” I can’t help but get a little discouraged. Maybe people aren’t learning to treat different people with respect.

…But then April 2009 happened… is happening.

On April 3rd, The Iowa Supreme Court unanimously voted that the state’s ban on same-sex marriage was unconstitutional. Same-sex couples will be allowed to marry in Iowa by the end of this month.

Iowa joined Massachusetts and Connecticut as a pioneer state for civil rights.

It didn’t just end there. Oh no.

When I got back from class at around 5:30PM, I opened Firefox to check my facebook before I was supposed to start a paper. My homepage is the New York Times’ website and the headline read: “Vermont Legislature Legalizes Same-Sex Marriage.” I was so overjoyed that I couldn’t help but yell. I called Elizabeth to relay the good news, but she had to see it for herself—and within her research, she pointed out something that I had missed: Washington D.C. voted to recognize gay marriages from other states.

It’s a great day to be gay. It’s a great day to love someone who is gay.

Next time you get discouraged over ignorance, remember: you can’t change everyone’s opinion about the LGBT community, but if enough of us stick together, we can change legislation.

I don’t want my children to see these triumphs happen in their lifetime; I want them to reap the benefits of these triumphs happening during my youth. I want them to only experience discrimination by reading about it in history books or watching a documentary on television. This will happen. I know it will.

Share your story in comments!

This is a call to action.

Carl Joseph Walker-Hoover hanged himself on April 6th 2009.

He was eleven years old.

What would bring a child, not even in middle school, to take his own life?

He was bullied.
He was taunted.
His peers thought he was “gay.”
…and he couldn’t fucking take it anymore.

Eleven years old. Does that bother you?

Carl did not even identify himself as gay.

On April 17th, one week from today, Carl would have turned twelve. Instead his mother will mourn her son, visit his grave, without a headstone in place yet. She will cherish the short eleven years she spent with him.

Do not let Carl’s death be in vain.

April 17th 2009 marks the 13th annual Day of Silence.

What is Day of Silence?
“The Day of Silence, a project of the Gay, Lesbian and Straight Education Network (GLSEN), is a student-led day of action when concerned students, from middle school to college, take some form of a vow of silence to bring attention to the name-calling, bullying and harassment — in effect, the silencing — experienced by LGBT (lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender) students and their allies.” (http://www.dayofsilence.org)

I need to know something:

What are you going to do to break this silence?

How many more children will have to die before society realizes that teaching hatred in our schools is getting us nowhere?

This is a call to action.

On April 17th 2009, be silent. Raise awareness. Don’t let another person die at the hands of ignorance.

For more information please go to: http://www.dayofsilence.org/index.cfm

Friday
On February 27, 2009, Elizabeth picked me up from school for spring break. On the car ride home I mentioned how fast this week had come. Considering all of the planning we had done in advance, it was hard to believe that it was all coming together in less than twenty-four hours.

That night, we did laundry and packed our suitcases. We double-checked our flight information and made up the futons in my basement. We popped in All Dogs Go to Heaven for a terrible movie night (did you know Burt Reynolds is the voice of Charlie?) and it lived up to our expectations of being a great movie to watch as a child before your brain fully develops and you can rationalize.

Saturday

We boarded our early afternoon flight, and two hours later we landed. As we walked to baggage claim, we passed a middle-aged white couple holding a small black baby. I whispered to Elizabeth, “I bet you they just adopted that baby! How adorable!” Little did I know that I was not only right, but as we took the escalator down to the baggage claim area, we proceeded to ruin all of their “Welcome home baby Mika” pictures.

Where were we? Detroit, Michigan. Why? Back in December, I filled out my application for an Alternative Spring Break (ASB) run through the United Way. When I was accepted into the program, I voiced my concerns to Elizabeth about not wanting to go to scary, crime-infested, dirty, piss-poor Detroit by myself. This is when she told me that she had also been accepted into the same ASB program.

I was surprised. I am used to traveling alone, meeting new people, doing things like Alternative Spring Break alone… I thought that having a friend with me would hinder my experiences. I was worried that we would only hang out with each other and not take the experience for all it was worth.

Every single assumption I made about Alternative Spring Break, Detroit, and having Elizabeth go with me was completely false.

After ruining Mika’s first pictures, we collected our luggage and waited for the United Way people to pick us up. We were greeted by Rebecca, Ursula, and Andrew (who happened to be filming us for a school project). We also met Amanda, another Alternative Spring Breaker (ASBer) who goes to school at Susquehanna University (and knows my ex-girlfriend!).

On the way there, Rebecca told us that we would be sleeping on cots in a tiny gym. I was under the assumption that we’d have dorm rooms because we were staying at a university. I was wrong. We arrived at the field house where we were staying and dropped our stuff on our cots, then traveled to the University Center (UC) to fill out the most paperwork I’ve ever filled out in my life. They gave us each three medium sized t-shirts (even though we asked for small), each a medium sized hoodie (even though we both asked for small) and a water bottle. At dinner we sat at an empty round table, alone. Eventually two young men sat across the table from us. They introduced themselves: Muhi and Jason D.

Muhi and Jason

After dinner, Elizabeth and I split up. She was on Team 1 (Incline), and I was on Team 2 (Boom-Roasted). I met my team: Kara, Lindsey, Marzia, and Suzanne. We instantly began laughing, joking around, and talking smack about the other teams. We found out that our assignment was to build a ramp for a disabled community member through the Ray West Memorial Ramp Project.

Later that night while in the UC, I had to go back to the field house to get something. No matter how hard I try, I don’t remember what I had to get. While I was waiting for a group of people to assemble so that we could go back together, I checked my cell phone. Matthew, the staff-advisor for PRIDE, had texted me, which was strange considering we were on break. I opened the text message and it was the tail end of a longer message that was sent in two parts. I knew whatever the message said was bad because the only words on the second message were “I’m so sorry.” I checked the first part of the message.

The message was pretty long, but the only words I read were, “Hey, Michel Ganz committed suicide.” I didn’t need to read anything else.

I know that most of you probably don’t know who Mike Ganz is because I didn’t go to high school with him and he didn’t go to ESU, so I’ll explain. In October, PRIDE hosted Denise Brunner, a transgender speaker. Matthew’s former partner is the staff-advisor to the Warren County Community College’s gay-straight alliance, and Mike was the president. Matthew invited Jeremy’s group to come to the presentation. Mike decided to come and he brought his mother. After Denise was done speaking, Mike introduced himself. We talked for a few minutes and exchanged email addresses. I found out from Matthew later that Mike had brought his mother with him because he wanted her to understand what transgenderism is. After the presentation, he came out as transgender to his mother. Later that month, he invited my club to his club’s Halloween party. My friend Phoebe and I were the only two that could make it. I sat in the corner for the first half, drinking soda after soda. Mike saw how uncomfortable I was and introduced me to people. He tried to get me to dance, but I wouldn’t—I have no rhythm, and I wasn’t about to make a fool out of myself. After the party, I talked to Mike every once and a while, keeping in touch, talking about our clubs. When I found out he had taken his own life, I was shocked. Transgender youth have a higher suicide rate then most other minorities. If you were born with the brain you have now but were stuck inside the body of someone of the opposite sex, how long would you last? Honestly, I thought Mike would have lived to see the day when he would be Madeline. I didn’t know him well enough to know that he was depressed.

I couldn’t breathe. I knew that I had to get away from all of these strangers and be alone, sort out whatever the message said. I was disoriented, dizzy, terrified, furious, and heartbroken. Elizabeth, unaware of the contents of that text message, followed me out of the room.

I immediately called Phoebe. She didn’t pick up. I was crying hysterically. I called Joe, the treasurer of PRIDE and told him. He had never met Mike and didn’t understand what I was talking about. When I hung up with him, I was worse off. I finally caught my breath long enough to explain what was going on to Elizabeth.

In order to process the message, I handed my phone to Elizabeth. I asked her to read the text message. She did. I asked her if Mike was dead. She said, “I think so.” I asked her if she was positive. She said she was. I asked her to delete the messages. She did.

Someone from the ASB staff came over and asked what was wrong. I told him or her (I don’t remember who it was). He/she gave me his/her condolences and told me to rejoin the group if I felt better. Eventually, Elizabeth and I went back in to socialize for about a hour before I was pulled out of the group again. John, Kira, Brian, and Z, four ASB staff members, were sitting in chairs. They asked me if I wanted them to book me a flight home.

As shitty of a time I was having there, going home was never an option for me. Going home wouldn’t bring Mike back. Going home would not ease my pain or guilt (the [I assume] guilt everyone who has ever lost someone to suicide initially feels). I knew that Mike would have wanted me to stay. I asked them if they could pull my team aside so I could tell them. I composed myself long enough to let them know about what was happening back home. They were all sympathetic, concerned, and genuine.

Sunday

The next morning, I opted out of the team building exercises in exchange for a few more hours of sleep. I woke up and showered right before everyone returned for lunch. After lunch, we boarded a huge bus for a tour of Detroit.

It’s a pretty cool city with museums, sports stadiums, and my personal favorite: the Heidlberg Project.

Monday

We arrived at a house about twenty minutes outside of Detroit to meet Jason K., a 32-year-old man with Spina Bifida. Up until about two years ago, Jason used leg braces and crutches to get around. But after a freak accident on a camping trip with some friends, he slipped, fell, and lost the mobility in his legs. His mother had to carry him over rose bushes in order to get him outside. He was quiet when we first met him, reserved, not really willing to talk. His mother, Elaine, made us cinnamon buns. They were fantastic.

It was bitter cold when we arrived. We met Mike W. and Rob, our carpenters for the project, who loved to hate us. We also met Bill, the coordinator for the Ray West Memorial Ramp Projects. Bill explained a little about Ray West and why this ramp project was so important. He also told us that because of the size of the ramp, we’d probably have to finish Friday morning.

We spent the rest of the day leveling the ground and making the modules that composed the frame of the ramp. Monday was really nice because I got to know my team a little better. I found out that Lindsay and I both love The Weakerthans (a Canadian band) and Suzanne is a beast. I should explain why Suzanne is a beast, but you wouldn’t understand.

Lindsay, Me

Tuesday

We worked on the ramp all day and had free time in the afternoon. This day by day thing isn’t working too great.

That night, I had my first conversation with (Team Leader) Kathryn. We’re in the same major and she didn’t know what she wanted to do with her degree career-wise. The conversation flipped into talk about every social issue under the sun: abortion, marriage equality, gay and single parent adoption, animal cruelty, health care, the war in Iraq, sex education, global warming. Kathryn told me that she was currently doing 3000 hours of community service in one year through Ameri-Corps. I told her about how I really wanted to do Ameri-Corps and potentially Peace-Corps. It was the first time I had talked seriously about what I wanted to do after college in years, if ever.

Wednesday

This was the hardest day. We didn’t make a lot of progress on the ramp. On the car rides back to campus, we normally kid around with each other and listen to Suzanne sing along to her favorite Ne-Yo songs. But Wednesday we were frustrated, cold, and exhausted. We took a tour of the Red Wings Hockey Stadium. I was bored. Sports are not my thing, and I dread the day when my kid signs up for t-ball or soccer.

Thursday

On the way to the site, I realized that Mike’s funeral was just hours away. I was assigned to hammer screws into place and then drill them into the wood to make the posts for the ramp’s railing. I couldn’t concentrate. I had stayed up late the night before, and as much as I didn’t want to dwell on Mike’s death, I couldn’t stop myself.

I don’t really know why Mike’s death upset me so much. It’s not like we knew each other very long, and we were never even remotely close.

Maybe it was the fact that he was the first young person that I knew to ever pass away. But that’s not true. In seventh grade, Liz Gates told me on the way to a swim meet that one of our peers, Kai, had been killed in a car crash. I cried at his memorial service, but I haven’t though about him until now. Another kid I went to middle school with overdosed on heroin my first semester of college and it didn’t phase me. Maybe it was the fact that Mike updated his facebook status every day. Even if we didn’t talk a lot, he was still part of my everyday life.

Maybe it was the fact that I was so far away from home and all I really needed was a hug from my mom.

Maybe it was the fact that he was fighting for all of the causes I was fighting for. He just wanted people to love him for who he was. He was human. He wanted change.

Maybe it was the fact that I want to believe that he didn’t mean to do it. That it was supposed to be a suicide attempt; he just wanted people to know he needed help, that the pain he was feeling was much more intense then he was letting on.

Maybe it was the fact that his death could have been prevented. If we weren’t so locked into gender roles and stereotypes and didn’t live in such a heterosexist, elitist society, maybe Mike would have been more comfortable being who he was. Maybe if people didn’t make him feel like some freak of nature for wanting to be a female, he wouldn’t have been so depressed. Maybe he didn’t realize how much support there is for people in his situation or that so many people loved him and cared about him and wanted him to succeed in life.

Now that I look at all these reasons, it’s more than likely a combination of all of them.

…I couldn’t get a single screw drilled in correctly. I threw my winter hat off in frustration before picking up my sledge hammer and with all of my might—aiming for the screw between my index and middle fingers—smashed my thumb into the wooden pole behind it. I don’t know how I managed to hit a finger nowhere near my target, but my thumb was throbbing. I threw my hands up and left for the backyard. I wanted to be left alone and knew my teammates would be too busy to think of intervening. I mumbled to Marzia as I passed her, “I need a minute.”

I sat down on the porch swing behind the house. I tried not to cry because I desperately didn’t want to leave my team a member short on the most important day. My throat slowly closed as the idea of Mike in a casket flooded into my mind. I saw him, lifeless, sealed up, laying in a beautiful wooden box in the middle of a church’s main aisle, having some old priest in slow motion read prayers from a book and sprinkle holy water over the casket. I just sat and cried.

Mike W., one of the men assigned to work with us, asked me if I was going to throw up, “because if yer are, spread your feet a little more so it don’t git on yer shoes.” I told him I wasn’t going to throw up. Rob told me that he was “no good about emotional things like whatever yer goin’ through, so just sit and take five. Hell, take twenty, just get yerself tehgether.”

Mike W. knelt down next to me and asked me if I wanted to talk. I told him that one of my friends back home died. He asked how and I told him. He was startled at first. He told me that his daughter was bipolar and she had tried to commit suicide twice, and he’d spent a lot of time in and out of hospitals with her. He said that God has a plan for everything and I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t say anything, but he must has sensed it and left.

I don’t know if he mentioned anything to Bill or not, but he came over. Bill is the nicest guy you’ll ever meet. He gets three hours of sleep a night because after he finishes up his paying job, he volunteers to fix things in elderly and disabled people’s homes. He has a heart of gold and deserves a whole lot more in life. He sat down next to me and asked me what was wrong. I told him about what had happened back home and he just started bawling. He told me that when he was nine, his father had killed himself and to this day, pushing 60 years of age, he still doesn’t understand it.

We must have sat and talked for about 15 minutes. When we finished, I felt better and I rejoined my team. I explained where I had been for the past half hour. I mentioned that Mike’s funeral was today. Jason D. looked at me and said, “I don’t care how long it takes us, we are finishing this ramp tonight.”
We were supposed to leave at around 5:30, but we worked, hand in hand, until 8:30 when Jason K. wheeled himself down his brand new ramp and regained his independence. Mike may have lost his life that week, but Jason K. was brought back to life. It was the best tribute to Mike that I could have been a part of.

We had missed dinner with the rest of the ASBers and an improv show. We stopped to get food at a local mall. I decided to be daring and I tried Middle-Eastern food for the first time (except I made Kara order for me). It was really good.

That night, Elizabeth and I walked laps around the indoor track outside of our sleeping room. I expected (and did) to get close to a few people at ASB, but I didn’t think it was possible to learn new things about Elizabeth. She knows me even better than my mother knows me. We are the type of friends that can finish each other’s sentences and know what each other is thinking at any given moment. But as we walked around the track, lap after lap, I felt like we had just met that week—like we had only known each other for 72 hours. I listened intently to every word she said; I wanted to remember everything. You know that an experience is special when you feel like you didn’t know your other half until that day.

Friday

Everyone involved in ASB participated in a flash mob in the middle of Detroit. According to the all-knowing Wikipedia, a flash mob is “a large group of people who assemble suddenly in a public place, perform an unusual action for a brief time, then quickly disperse.” We danced the Cupid Shuffle.

When we returned, Muhi took a bunch of us to the Ford Estate. When we got there, it turned out that most of the other teams had had the same idea. We sat down by a waterfall and joined the others. Some people had fallen asleep on the edge, other people sat alone, some people were having conversations. These were people I had met six days ago and here we were, completely different people, sharing beautiful scenery and each other’s company.

That night, we gathered for our last big meal together. Jason D. and Muhi picked up Jason K. and he said a few words. It was really nice to have everyone else meet Jason K. and to see why we wanted to finish the ramp ahead of schedule. He deserved it.

We had a dance party in the main gym of the field house, reminiscent of a seventh grade dance. I can’t dance, but something in me told me that I should. I thought about how I didn’t dance at Mike’s Halloween party. I sat and remembered how uncomfortable I had felt and I realized how ridiculous of an idea it was to think that people would judge me based on my lack of rhythm. So I danced. I danced my heart out. I danced to prove to myself that I wasn’t afraid of new things and change; I danced because Mike would have danced with me.

I stayed up all night talking to Lindsay and Nicole (another ASBer) about our pasts, our futures, our friends, our families, our goals, our lives, ASB… a little of everything. This sentence may seem insignificant to the readers who weren’t in Detroit with us, but it needed to be noted.

Saturday

There’s no need to talk about the goodbyes.

When we got back, I immediately started working on the mix CD I promised Lindsay. Elizabeth slept on my bed. I was lucky enough to have someone understand what I was feeling about ASB and Detroit.

Maybe it’s just me, but I feel like I was one of sixty young people who decided to give up their spring breaks to serve a community in need, and I was one of those sixty young people who dedicated their week to Mike’s legacy. They didn’t know him—Christ, I barely knew him—but his untimely passing changed the way we worked together for the rest of the week. Mike helped to put into perspective how fragile our lives are. We only get one; why not make it worthwhile?

Mike’s death has showed me that judging someone over what they look like or believe in doesn’t ease your own insecurities about yourself or make you feel any better about your current situation. People need to help other people because we’re people. It’s that simple.

I could go on and on about why Michigan is where I’ve left my heart. I left ASB with a new sense of work ethic, an appreciation for all of the gifts and opportunities I have had (and will have) in my life, as well as a new understanding of what makes a person friend-worthy.

I know I didn’t talk about individual people too much in here, because if I did this would be another seven pages… but I will briefly and I’m sorry if I miss anyone:

Team Boom-Roasted, I could not have survived this week without you. (in alphabetical order)
Jason D.: Thanks for being ½ of the best team leader partnership ever. Although you broke the most tools (including a ½ inch drill bit and a jackhammer), you were my favorite person on my team… to not sit at the kitchen table during lunch. Thanks for making me eat six slices of pizza, you jerk.
Kara: I know you were sick all week and I’m sorry! The last night you were there you were coughing so much that I thought you were on the verge of death. I came to your rescue and asked a team leader to get you some cough syrup, but when I returned you had stopped coughing and were sound asleep. I can’t wait to come back next year for your wedding.
Lindsay: YOU ARE A STRONG CONFIDENT WOMAN with great taste in music. I loved talking to you whether the conversation was serious or hilarious. You’ve got some sick dance moves too. Thanks for being my dance buddy!
Marzia: I have to give you props for dealing with Jason D. all by yourself on the first day. I’m also sorry that when Jason asked Muhi and me to help you guys, we laughed like evil super villains and walked away.
Muhi: We hit it off right away. I don’t know exactly what to say about us. You were my partner in crime and always had my back. Anything I say here will be inadequate.
Suzanne: The beast! I’m going to learn how to knit so I can make you jack hammer mittens. I meant to ask you when we went to the United Way Headquarters, did they let you into the building? The reason I’m asking is because there was a sign near the entrance that said “Check weapons at the door.” I wasn’t sure if they’d let your fists of fury through.

Onto other ASBers:
Amal, you are my favorite buck in the whole world.
Ashim, I will always give you advice about the ladies.
Edith, way to hurt your ankle on the first day and still dance all night!
Robin, “What makes first class on an airplane first class? Easy. Oprah’s there.”
Katherine, thanks for all of the banana laffy-taffys.
Haydar, we never played chess! Rain check for May!
Nicole, thank you for your wonderful insight to the world. My favorite ASB conversations were usually had with you!
Amanda, you summed up all of my feelings in your facebook post.

There are so many more and I will probably add to this later, but this entry just hit its eighth page so I need to end it.

ASB313 changed my life forever.

Me, Muhi, and Lindsay enjoying the porch swing.

Lunch!

Bill with Team Boom-Roasted

Me, Muhi, Marzia

Me, Elizabeth, Ashim, Katherine, Amanda

Suzanne, Rehena, Me, Lindsay

(Photo Credits: Raechel Matyas, Muhi Lateef Khwaja, Marzia Chowdhury, Amanda Nichols, Elizabeth Brill.)

I will not be in class on Tuesday, January 20th because I will be watching President Elect Barack Obama give his inauguration speech. This may not seem like a legitimate excuse for missing class, but I volunteered my time to help campaign for him from September to the moment he was elected and it would mean a lot to me to see his speech live.

I hope you understand,

Lauren

Tuesday will define our nation. Tuesday will mark the end of an era and the beginning of a new democracy—a place in history where wars end, equality is served, public education is revived… a place where dreams are realized.

Here’s to you, President Elect Barack Obama and Vice President Elect Joe Biden. May your presidency be wise and effective.

We’re counting on your administration to bring about the change America and the world needs.

I LIED, SORT OF. I NEED TO TELL YOU ALL A FEW THINGS BEFORE WE ACTUALLY BEGIN.

First, I’ve decided to start another blog in addition to this one. I made my first New Year’s resolution this year, and I’m documenting my process. What process you ask? I’m going to read AT LEAST two books a month for the whole year. Exciting, right? Feel free to check it out at www.thisishowiread.wordpress.com.

Oh, and because of this new blog, school work, my everlasting advocacy projects, and the fact that my doctor almost bitched slapped me for not taking better care of myself… I’m going to have to start updating this blog once a month. To put this bluntly: my grades weren’t so great last semester, and I’m determined to fix that, I’m determined to read more, and I’m determined to spread the word on my campus about social issues. My health is slowly deteriorating, and if I want to think about living past forty, I need to start taking better care of myself.

If I have time to post in between entries, I will, and I’ll make sure my faithful readers know about it.

Also, I need suggestions as to what I should write about.

All of that aside, I DO HAVE AN ENTRY FOR YOU. HERE IT IS.

I’m going to start this entry with a very blunt and declarative statement: My quest for God is over. Why? Because I don’t believe in God. I’ll say it again. I do not believe in God.

I am an atheist. Now, before I go any further, I would quickly like to define exactly what an atheist is.

According to dictionary.com, atheism is:
1. The doctrine or belief that there is no God.
2. Disbelief in the existence of a supreme being or beings.
3. The doctrine that there is no God or gods.
4. The doctrine or belief that there is no God.
5. A lack of belief in the existence of God or gods.
6. Denial that there is a God.
7. The disbelief or denial of the existence of a God, or supreme intelligent Being.
8. Godlessness.

Out of those eight definitions, please locate the word religion. If you’re having trouble finding the word, I don’t blame you—because it’s not there.

I can’t speak for all atheists because there’s (roughly) half a billion of us out there, and even if I had time to meet each one, I’m sure I wouldn’t have time to find out if we agree on everything. Even more so, I don’t think we would agree on everything… but out of all of the atheists I’ve talked to, out of all of the atheists I’ve researched, out of all of my knowledge on the subject of atheism the general consensus about religion is… we don’t care. People can believe what they want to believe under the following three conditions:

1. Religion should not influence government in any way.
2. Religion should not be taught in public school classrooms in any way.
3. No one should ever kill someone else because they disagree with the other person’s religious views.

Now I’ll elaborate on those three points.

1. Religion should not influence the government in any way.

On every piece of United States currency, you can find the phrase, “In God We Trust.” In every court scene of every television show, you see someone being asked to swear on a Bible (I’m not sure but I think the US stopped practicing this). In the Pledge of Allegiance, we say the phrase, “One nation under God.” But do we need it? We are supposed to be a secular nation.

“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof,” according to the First Amendment. America is not a “Christian nation.” This argument is one of the more debated, so I decided to research some of the men and women found on our currency:

“Religious controversies are always productive of more acrimony and irreconcilable hatreds than those which spring from any other cause. I had hoped that liberal and enlightened thought would have reconciled the Christians so that their [not our?] religious fights would not endanger the peace of Society.” – George Washington in a letter to Sir Edward Newenham, June 22, 1792

“Say nothing of my religion. It is known to my god and myself alone.” – Thomas Jefferson, in a letter to John Adams, January 11, 1817

“The Bible is not my book nor Christianity my profession. I could never give assent to the long, complicated statements of Christian dogma.” – Abraham Lincoln, American president (1809-1865)

“I could not do otherwise without transcending the limits prescribed by the Constitution for the President and without feeling that I might in some degree disturb the security which religion nowadays enjoys in this country in its complete separation from the political concerns of the General Government.” – Andrew Jackson, 1832, statement refusing to proclaim a national day of fasting and prayer

“I have found Christian dogma unintelligible. Early in life, I absenteed myself from Christian assemblies.” – Benjamin Franklin

“I tell them I have worked 40 years to make the W.S. platform broad enough for Atheists and Agnostics to stand upon, and now if need be I will fight the next 40 to keep it Catholic enough to permit the straightest Orthodox religionist to speak or pray and count her beads upon.” – Susan B. Anthony on the Women’s Suffrage platform

Now, imagine if the government wasn’t influenced by religion. Do you think it would be so hard for gays to marry? When California tragically lost the right to issue marriage licenses to gay couples in November, the main groups that supported Proposition Eight were The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and Focus on the Family, a religious group that, frankly, spews homophobic bullshit.

Let’s be honest. If you are religious or even agnostic and the United States government decided to omit “In God We Trust” from our currency, would you no longer believe in God? Would you lose all faith? Would anything in your life be impacted if we removed “under God” from the Pledge of Allegiance (which by the way, wasn’t added until 1954 when the Knights of Columbus, a catholic organization, campaigned for it)?

Moving on…

2. Religion should not be taught in public school class rooms in any way.

Before I begin my rampage about why public schools should not teach religion, I would like to point out that that is exactly what I mean.

I have no problem with students in public schools talking to other students about any religion (or lack there of). Actually, I think it’s healthy. I think that children who practice religion should make friends with children who practice different religions or no religion. Knowledge is power, and the more you know about something, the less ignorant you are about it. To further this point, I think EVERYONE, regardless of age, should be curious about other religions and beliefs; everyone should research and learn about different belief systems. I think people should compare how their religion is similar and different from other religions or people who are not religious.

My problem mainly lies in Intelligent Design.
But I also encounter another problem.
I’m not a teacher or a scientist.
I probably won’t do a great job explaining this… but I’ll give it a try.

Here’s a question to the readers who believe in Intelligent Design: How is Intelligent Design a scientific theory?

Almost 100% of scientists agree that Intelligent Design is creationism in disguise. Almost 100% of scientists agree that Intelligent Design has no scientific backing to it.
Most people in favor of Intelligent Design say that evolution is just a theory and that other theories should be taught. If that’s the case, should we find another theory that helps explain gravity?

I’m not an expert on this, but I did watch an incredible documentary last week that might further help you understand where I’m coming from. Check out Judgment Day: Intelligent Design on Trial
Here’s the trailer, and I’m pretty sure you can find the whole thing on YouTube:

And finally:

3) No one should ever kill someone else because they disagree with the other person’s religious views.

http://www.thedenverchannel.com/news/18380850/detail.html#-

Some people may argue that religion makes people do good things too. Religion can make people do great things, and I won’t deny that fact. But some of the major philanthropists in the world are atheists. I love volunteering my time to help out people in need. I also don’t do it to score points for the afterlife. I don’t do good things to make a god happy; I do good things because I want to—because I feel better when I help people.

Please watch this video. I stumbled upon it a few nights ago and it took me over a half hour to watch the entire three minutes. Why? Because it made me so angry that ignorance could be so prevalent in a “news” room.

I’m going to dissect this video.

1. “Oh yeah, you’re an atheist so lets use one of the Ten Commandments to prove our point.”
Well, I can almost guarantee that an atheist didn’t steal that sign. Did I mention earlier that atheists aren’t against religion? They just don’t believe in god.

We just want our piece of the pie.

2. “I’m just so enraged by all of these atheist displays by trying to push Jesus to the back seat on Christmas Day.”

I’m sorry, maybe I’m mistaken—do you think Jesus wants people to do good things because they’re the right things? Or do you think Jesus wants people to steal signs and break one of the Ten Commandments?

3. “Every year now for the last five or six years we’ve seen these outbursts and tantrums from people who can’t just leave well enough alone.”
Well enough alone? A “Christian” man went on a rampage trying to kill anyone who was not Christian three weeks ago. But yes. Everything is fine. Atheists are wrong.

4. “No atheists just need their fifteen minutes of fame.”
…or our first amendment rights of freedom of speech and freedom from religion.

5. “You think you are going to ignore the atheist movement?”
How about you talk to an atheist and see where they’re coming from.

6. “I think making fun of them too and mockery is probably the second best solution.”
Yes, that’s what Jesus taught, to get a good laugh at people who are different, like lepers.

I’ll leave you with some video clips about atheism.

I’ve been doing a lot of research, especially geared toward atheism, which I plan to write about in the near future.

I’ve also become a little obsessed with youtube lately. I only have four subscriptions: Edward Current, Tyler Oakley, The Associated Press, and my new favorite people, the Vlog Brothers.

All of these youtube videos I’ve been watching lately aren’t about groundhogs giving dirty looks (well, some of them are). They’re rather informative about a whole slew of issues.

I’ve also been reading! Books! Well… a book.

Another thing I’ve noticed is that I cannot write while I’m home. Last summer was the first exception to that rule. I write much better when I’m not confined to researching in one place. At college when people see someone working, they leave them alone. At home, if I’m writing in any spot other than my bedroom, my mother asks me a million questions, all of which would be answered for her if she would just read my blog. I promise real posts will start again next week.

I feel like my word choice is getting worse and worse.

The New York Times started delivering papers to my house again, and I’m not sure if I’m getting charged for it. That’s all fine and dandy, but I really hate what’s going on in the world.

So no new post this week.

Any suggestions for upcoming posts? I feel like this blog has really gone off track. No suggestions, no post next week—that’s how we’re gonna play this.

Sometimes I wish my brain was a little more attentive.

Happy New Year!

This is how I read.

This is my ridiculously worded camera warranty.

This is my “emo” hair.

These are my high school achievements.

Those are old photographs I took in high school and my grandfather’s cameras.

This is what I would do a lot in high school.

This is a letter my first girlfriend wrote to me while I was at band camp freshman year of high school.

This is a letter Kara, my pen pal wrote to me recently.

Happy New Year.

I was going to write an entry about Christmas.

But I only celebrate the commercialized American version, so who am I to judge?

But I got another idea.

Are you ready?
This is a list of thing, things you should just do once, twice, as often as you can. I have done some of them, not all of them though but I plan to!

1. Wear the same pair of shoes for as long as you can, when they’re too worn out for comfort, not style, put them in some sort of box and take them out once and a while. It’ll make your day, I guarantee it.

2. Buy a pair of the most comfortable shoes and wear them once and only once. As soon as they come off of your feet, clean any dirt you can off of them and donate them to a charity. You’ll realize how much a pair of comfortable shoes is appreciated.

3. Instead of watching the news, read the newspaper. Why? Because when you watch the news you have to watch all of it. When you read the newspaper you read what you want. When you read a good newspaper, you don’t just read, you enjoy. Plus it helps your brain. If you don’t have time to read the newspaper, read the paper instead of watching the news, even if that means delaying the other things you’re doing for 15 minutes.

4. Find the most deserving child you know, buy him or her you favorite childhood storybook and read it to him or her.

5. Never be afraid to talk to someone. Period the end.

6. If you’re interested in something, research it.

7. If you have long hair, chop it all off and donate it. Hair grows back and I’m telling you, you need the change.

8. Find a random friend from your past that you haven’t seen in a while. Treat them to coffee.

9. Write actual letters and send them to people because you know that when you get mail that isn’t bills or generic birthday cards, it’s exciting.

10. Visit your grandparent while they’re still alive.

11. Make up your own holiday. I did. Pie Day! (The Saturday after thanksgiving)

12. At least once a year, volunteer your time.

13. Buy the ugliest betta fish you can find.

14. SURPRISE DAY TRIPS TO NO WHERE ARE THE BEST.

15. Take advantage of free refills.

16. Help build someone a new house.

17. Teach tolerance.

18. If you ever see someone crying, give them a hug, it doesn’t matter who they are. They’re probably too upset to hit you and if they had a weapon someone would be dead, right?

19. If it dehumanizes or discriminates against anyone, it’s not worth watching, doing, hearing, or feeling. (this one is tricky)

20. Chances are, you can never thank the people who raised you enough.

Hope you enjoyed that, and as always I’m open for suggestions.

ANOTHER THING. I’m sorry if my grammar sucks, I’m still flying solo.

Ok so. I might not stop writing in this blog.

I have this idea.

I am pretty sure that by January I will have a digital camera. I’ve had them in the past but I manage to break them so easily, but I think I’m only going to use this camera for my blog.

I’m starting to face the hard fact that people don’t like to read all of the time, myself included.

So why not add a little… “flare” to this thing.

Every once and a while I get these ideas in my head that just dwell until I get them all down in writing, which is actually how this whole blog thing started. Usually these ideas are short lived. I’m actually suprised and how much I updated. Which I guess is why I’m not willing to stop.

So come mid-January, I think my blog will be like a toy Hess Truck, it’ll be back and better than ever. I might update before then.

I also realized that I don’t care about readership, I mean I care if you read it because maybe I’ve enlightened you. But if people don’t read it, who cares?

I have ideas for new posts for this thing, but I’m curious to see what YOU want me to write about. Just like the last time I did this, it can be about anything in the whole world. If I don’t have any knowledge I’ll research. Post your ideas here or on my myspace www.myspace.com/auspoet.

Ok back to my paper!

If you celebrate an upcoming holiday, enjoy yourself and PLEASE TEACH TOLERANCE to any children present at your parties or shindigs. …Which gives me an idea about a new blog.

Three completely irrelevant end notes:

1. I have had really weird dreams every night I’ve been home so far.
2. My face looks sunburned… why? because apparently I’m allergic to the face wash in my bathroom.
3. My hair is growing out and I look like one of the Beatles back when they were on the Ed Sullivan show and I really like it. Maybe I’ll grow it out some more perhaps?

I also had a falling out with my editor and I am not capable of correcting my own grammar.

It’s been real.

Thanks for reading.