It seems like different time. When I was a teenager in the early 2000s, Pride parades were welcomed in the media and LGBTQ+ were widely seen as regular people. Coming out as gay, lesbian, or bi seemed like an excellent opportunity to affirm the love and support someone needs.
But my coming-out story was not as great as some you see on TV. I was forced to come out when my parents received a call from someone at my school saying I was gay and meeting gay men off campus.
My parents assured me they knew that person on the phone was lying, that I would always be their child, that they loved me no matter what. But was I gay? Yes. Their concern became whether teens or adults would harass, assault, or do worse to me if they found out.
I was raised in Chula Vista, which had no resources or representation for LGBTQ+ in the early 2000s. So when I became an adult, I wanted to help youth who were going through the same challenges I had.
Now I’m a public health worker, a hard but rewarding profession. In this role I urge support for the LGBTQ+ community, especially the youth. What many see as a political issue is now a public health crisis.
Every day we see more LGBTQ+ people being attacked or killed because of ignorance and hate, coupled with disingenuous legislation. Lies about “grooming kids” to become queer have become the new fear-mongering tactic, similar to the “Lavender Scare” in the 1950s. Back then, many people lost jobs, family, and even their lives because they were either rumored to be gay or because they lived their lives authentically.
Pride is about fighting this ignorance and hate. I recently saw a post on Facebook that reflected what our community has been saying for years: “Pride isn’t about turning straight kids into queer kids. Pride is about not turning queer kids into dead kids.”
The TREVOR Project, a national organization focused on suicide prevention among LGBTQ+ youth, offers a toll-free number where trained counselors provide confidential assistance. Over 60% of youth they encounter have experienced symptoms of depression or anxiety due to the hate they experience. Nearly two in three LGBTQ+ youth said that hearing about potential state or local laws banning people from discussing LGBTQ+ issues at school made their mental health worse.
All these factors also increased the chances of suicidal thoughts or attempts from 20% to 41% since 2019. Adverse Childhood Experiences, or ACEs, have played a large role in adult health outcomes. Studies show that when someone has five or more negative traumatic experiences in their lifetime, they are more likely to develop cancer or heart disease than the average person, have half more mental health challenges, and experience increased drug use and homelessness.
Imagine the point at which a young person turns to something as drastic as suicide, because of what people in their lives say over and over. They start believing those words of hate, manifesting into behaviors that end their lives prematurely.
Times are changing now. Programs like Rainbow Spaces, a nonprofit organization that holds many events for LGBTQ+ youth throughout the year in South Bay and other areas, hold dances, parties, lectures, and healing spaces for participants. The South Bay Community Center provides a safe space for youth to drop in and get support for their daily needs.
But these programs have been attacked, online and in public, with extremist individuals harassing youth and the program’s adult allies. When someone says, “They’re trying to teach your kids to be gay!” they’re really saying, “I care more about my point of view and not your kids!”
It takes months to teach a young person how to solve math problems or speak a new language, yet there’s no curriculum to teach someone to be LGBTQ+. If it weren’t for supporting teachers and adults at my school, like a Mr. Scowden and a Ms. Stratton, and others who were supportive and heterosexual, I would not be the proud and gay adult I am today. To ensure that all youth have a chance to be happy and healthy in the future, we need to support those at risk.
No one can teach someone to be queer, but youth can be taught that they matter and that is enough.
Marcus Fisher is a youth coordinator assistant for the Institute for Public Strategies.
