Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Supporting the LGBT Community


            The recent tragedies involving six separate young gay men taking their lives because of torment and harassment shows what little progress we have made to insure rights for all people and acceptance for all lifestyles.           
            The lack of social acceptance and social programs for the LGBT (Lesbian/Gay/Bi-Sexual/Transgender) community caused President Daniel Bradley of Indiana State University to take action and try to develop social programs that seek acceptance and stress unity.
            Today marked the beginning of ISU ushering in this new support of diversity.Many students and faculty wore purple proudly and visibly illustrated the tolerance and acceptance already established on campus.
            Yet, it is troubling that the tragedies of these six men is what reminded many of us how discrimination and hatred can affect so many people.
            I am guilty of being ignorant to the injustices that hinder the growth of the gay community. However, my ignorance stems from the social group that surrounds me.
            I have asserted myself to be friends with open-minded and educated people who understand the meaning of tolerance. Plus, I have many gay and lesbian friends that don’t always remind me of the discrimination they face or what struggles affect them from time to time.
            But then again, I should always remember. I should always think about the lingering ignorance and festering hate that many people in this country carry with them.
            I should know because someone’s lack of tolerance and personal hatred of gay people took someone close to me in 2003.
            Returning home one night after a marathon of playing pool with my roommate, I flipped on the TV, which just happened to be on the local news station airing the ten o’clock news. I never watch local news because the only reporting that affects me is the weather outlook. Evidently, there was a chance of severe storms.
            My ears perked up as I heard the newscaster say, “A Greene County man was found dead in his home this evening from an apparent shotgun wound, as reported by the Jasonville City Police.”
            My roommate asked me how likely would it be for me to know who it is.
            “Really good chance, honestly,” I replied.
            No name mentioned; No footage of the scene shown; just a talking head again saying, “The Jasonville PD is treating this case as a possible homicide, suspecting foul-play. The name of the victim has not been released, nor had any details of possible leads.”
            Just as I had convinced myself I probably didn’t know who it was, the footage rolled on to the screen. The TV was flooded by the hair-raising images: police cruisers, ambulances, flashing lights, gurneys covered in white sheets, men with white latex gloves, yellow caution tape streaming in the wind where it had come undone, medics shaking their heads. Then, I saw a glimpse of the house just as the producer for the news realized the footage was still running even though a new story had taken center stage.
            My heart sank. My stomach burned.
            “Do you know the guy?” my roommate hesitantly asked me.
            “Yeah, he was my uncle.”
            Jerry, or “Brud” as his friends knew him, was a close family friend to my father and stepmother.  As far back as I can remember about my childhood, Brud was a part of our family’s life. He was as close to me as an uncle could be and a better friend.
            He was as flamboyant and boisterous as anyone I have ever known. He had tan skin that looked like leather and his build was wafer thin. His blonde hair needed a touch up from my stepmother every few weeks to keep up the bleached tone.
            Brud was quick to have a laugh as quick as he would light a Virginia Slim. He did drink a little too much, but at least he always shared his booze. He would share anything. He would give anything.  His kindness was genuine.
            Perhaps after a few late afternoon cocktails in the kitchen with my stepmother, he might have stopped me to tell me a dirty joke to pass onto my friends. He might have slipped me a pack of cigarettes when Teddi wasn’t looking. Or, he might just stop me and tell me to keep up the good work at school.
            Brud’s heart was huge and he was always made room for more people to come in. He would have given you the shirt off his back if you asked.
            And in the end, that kindness became his demise.
            Avoiding any detailed length, he opened his house to a stranger that he thought was a just someone down on his luck and needing a helping hand. Instead the man shot him with a shotgun a little bit later
            The man who took Brud’s life was never brought to justice; he committed suicide in Indianapolis once he knew the police were on his trail. A few days later itn was revealed that man was a violent criminal and known bigot.
            Brud’s senseless murder by an intolerant low-life is just one tragedy in the endless examples as a result of hatred and ignorance. If we do not collectively speak out against such a cycle of despair, we will keep ourselves from ever growing into a compassionate and respectful society.
            I know how I have been affected; think about how your life could change.
I learned early on that tolerance and acceptance is part of being a good person. Outside of my parents, many people helped shape my open mind and open heart. These influential people will always have my gratitude; however, there is one person that I will never get to thank.
            

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Cob Web







As I weave together a magic elixir
to cure all the ills of my moth-to-the-flame patrons,
my eye catches yours as it did so many years ago.
In between the locked-in-look of one another
are the cob webs of our nights together
passing a cigarette back and forth in a celebratory puff
of mixing chemicals.
]
Caught in that old web is the memory of those molded
jade eyes casting a hint of fear and a sign of pleasure
 as your body squirmed around,
arranging yourself tighter in my grip.
]
Struggling to break free is the memory of that salty taste
of your skin as I crawled up and down your body
hugging the curves with my tongue and savoring
your flavor like a fine wine.
]
As our stare fades till be both turn away,
one last wink and smile from you lets me
know that it was always your intention
to be tangled up by me.

ISU Homecoming: the Walk is ours, not yours



            In the October 3 issue of the Tribune-Star, a reader opinion column by Pat Creasy entitled “Flashpoint: Terre Haute needs an alternative to ISU’s ‘walk’” was published in response to Mark Bennett’s column “As The Walk grows into a Homecoming ritual ISU works to make the best of the situation.”
            Bennett’s article was a well-written piece that showcased pros and cons of the Walk. He also offered some suggestions to limit the drinking on the Walk and noted that perhaps students taking part should be going to the football game, you know, the actual intention for the Walk.           
            I do not believe Mrs. Creasy fully grasped what message he was relaying to the community and students.
            By the way Mrs. Creasy, we should be referred to as “students,” or “adults,” not “kids” as you like to call us over and over in the column.
            I respect the right to voice your opinion; however you start to cross a thin line of opinion and insert you pious religious viewpoint when you suggest that, “an entourage of Christian non-drinkers fill the streets … stand between doors of taverns and bars to encourage the kids to ‘walk on by’.”
            Why not an entourage of Atheist, gay or lesbian non-drinkers? Would they not fulfill the Judeo-Christian plea to stop this hedonism that you are so concerned with?
            You also state, “if this homecoming ritual is an example of what attending Indiana State University has come to, then I will encourage all the kids I know to attend a different college.”
            Brilliant strategy.
            Based on the “Energize Downtown Terre Haute” project that will evolve over the next ten years, ISU and Terre Haute are aiming to satisfy the student consumer in order to save downtown because we all know people over the age of 35 are not going to do it.
            The last thing that Terre Haute needs are more students coming to ISU, getting an education and spending money in a town desperate to grow.
            And your other suggestion that bars close during the Walk because the local bars do not need to rely on students for income to prosper made me spit out my double bourbon and coke.
            I bar tend here in town and I will tell you this: My income, an income that will take me to grad school and further my education, is not based on the hoards of Christian non-drinkers sipping down Shirley Temples and listening to “good music” like Dinah Shore (I assume Shore because you attended ISU in 1948 as per your article). It is the drunken lunatics that spill into the streets with their sins, or as I call them, friends.
            If you truly plan on encouraging us to not drink, you better have your rally start earlier than 9 am. We sinful heathens will be up by 5 am burning Bibles, intoxicating our minds and fornicating (causing those “unwanted pregnancies” that are a result of the Walk according to you).
            If you do rally, so be it. Just be forewarned, you will most likely be harassed and if you attempt to block the bar and tavern doors to encourage people to walk away, understand that the owners and managers will not be on your side.
            * Kisses and Hugs * -Trever Fehrenbach