"Faggot Part II: Faggots Unite"

I thought I was alone.

I had this strange teenage fantastical belief that there was some divine ordinance in the world where there was only one queer student in every high school.

And for my high school, I was the one. The only one.

I often imagined what the only ones in the high schools across town might be like. Were they fighting against it every day like me? Were they praying constantly for the straight life? Were they reading their Bible every minute they could? Were they like me?

After graduation, after coming to terms with myself, I began to search for the others. Very quietly at first. Very academically even. And I still couldn't find anyone. I did everything I thought might work to find others like me. I read the books at the library, in secret of course. I anonymously called a hotline and cried to the person trying to help me. I wrote a secret note to the newspaper to try to find a friend.

But I had no luck.

Until...

I stopped being silent.

Suddenly in my publicly coming out, I had more support and friendships than I could ever have imagined before. Brothers and sisters felt ok telling me that we were indeed related, more than either of us knew. Cousins and uncles and aunts and mothers and fathers and grandparents all were astoundingly family now.

I decided that the action I was looking for to change things was not out there somewhere in the world. The necessary action was in me.

I formed a college student group. Our first meeting had 50 people. That was unheard of for a student group at my small commuter college. And was incredible for a first meeting of a new queer organization.

Our power united changed the entire institution.

Oh sure, there were setbacks. The school's sidewalks were chalked up one day telling us to go away. My home phone line was hit with childish, hateful, epithet-filled tantrums. Hate speech suddenly became par for the course.

And yet, so did love speech.

People who didn't think about it beforehand, now were wrestling to understand, because they loved me and others like me. And the more they knew, the more they wanted to understand and support.

More importantly, the more we knew about each other, the more we realized we were not alone afterall.

After the passage of Prop. 8, I think there was a moment of separation anxiety for all of us. We suddenly felt very alone. Everyone else was happy. Everyone else got theirs. Everyone else succeeded. And we were being blamed for failing.

Consciously I knew that when I was being verbally attacked on election day, I must not be the only one. But subconsciously, it hit an historical internal pang. And losing the only race that day when everyone else was winning continued that feeling of isolation. With all the self-doubt and bitterness that comes with it.

The reality took a bit of time to recognize. I was not alone out there, before or after election day. Just as I was not alone out there, before or after high school.

I just had been struggling in silence, once again.

I now see our community uniting since the election in a way that it hasn't in a while. When was the last time we had nationwide protests like this? Over marriage rights no less?

It's as if losing Prop 8, with the communal punch in the gut, woke up the hidden dragon in our community. We are now rallying with a just anger and communal solidarity. We are not going to take it anymore.

If anything has taught us about the coming out process in our queer lives, it is that we are never alone except in our own silence. When we join together and speak out about our lives and form our own self-pride and we have our own proud celebrations, we can win what we need and we can party too.

These national protests against the passage of Prop 8, and the communal online and in the streets activism against the tyranny of the majority, have given me a renewed hope.

For our community banding together can really put on the best parties, even in the midst of overwhelming oppression.

Straight America, you think you can dance? You ain't seen nothing yet. These faggots united are about to school you on true dancing in the streets.