Derrick Martin (left) and boyfriend/prom date Richard Goodman
A Georgia teen has been kicked-out of his family’s home after going public on his plans to attend his high school prom with his boyfriend.
In the town of Cochran, GA, 18 year-old Derrick Martin won the approval of his school to take his boyfriend to next month’s prom, and has since received an outpouring of support and some criticism, even at home, for going public.
Martin said his parents have kicked him out of the family home due to all the media attention.
“My parents did kick me out,” Martin told LGBTQ Nation on Wednesday night.
“They never supported my lifestyle, and with all of this attention they thought it best for us to separate, so they told me to leave. It’s OK though. It’s their house. It was mainly because I went public.”
In Derrick’s apology for his parent’s behavior we see the unconditional love of a child for his parents. In his parent’s rejection we see fear. The article doesn’t let us know if the parents are afraid for their son, or of their son— or both.
This is where things get complicated; homophobia is real. Being out carries with it a degree of danger. Parents are supposed to protect their kids from danger. And, while you might think that increasing public support for GLTBQ might result in less gay bashing, FBI statistics say the opposite.
Crimes against gay, lesbian, and transgendered people are significantly underreported, but from FBI statistics we know them to be on the rise, at least 24% since 2005, and yet they are the only hate crimes excluded from federal and many state statues, making proper investigation and prosecution difficult, if not impossible.
We can see how the fear starts, as fear for our children, fear at what the world might do to them for being different; but we have only to look to the recent past, to the shuttered lives, the self-loathing, of the generations preceding Stonewall to see the price paid for cultural invisibility.
But when we project that fear, take it into our hearts, project it into our children, we do them, and the world a disservice.
And so sometimes, it is left to the kids themselves to be the courageous ones. Sometimes foolishly so, in the glow of adolescent immortality. And sometimes they will be struck down.
To the conservative, who thinks they are protecting their children by surpressing their children’s expression and identity, I can only say, freedom isn’t free. If your kids are willing to pay the price, you have to let them, as you would let your children enlist to fight a foreign enemy. And accept that you may one day mourn.
And to all those who come out, who put their bodies on the line, who risk the love of family, church, community, I say, I salute you. I celebrate you. I love you. You are now my people, even though I’m a dull as dishwater heteronormative.
Because the Q in GLBTQ can mean questioning. We question the wisdom of a status quo built on ancient fear, ignorance, and hate.
And we are all GBLTQ now.
{ 4 comments… read them below or add one }
I love that you’re drawing attention to the struggles that LGBTQ youth face. However, I would really appreciate it of you would refocus your approch to race in this post. African Americans are not a homogenous homophobic group. There are many LGBTQ African Americans and many African American allies. I think that the struggle for LGBTQ rights is often mis-served by the face that we often talk about African American hophobes as somehow different than Christian homophones more generally. If I were African American, I would feel likethere was not a place for me in the struggle for LGBTQ rights.
Hmm. Has the text of the original post changed since the above comment? I read and reread and am not clear what reference to African Americans is being talked about. As a queer person of colour (from Canada), my only thought was – amen, brother. Although you may be a ‘dull as dishwater heteronormative’, you’re one of us queers now. I check in with your site every so often as a touchstone; mostly when I’m down about some piece of gay-bashing. Your site lets me know that changing the world is possible, always.
I had a poorly phrased bit about non-supportive african american Christian responses to civil rights comparisons between GLBTQ people and people of color. I removed this bit after the previous comment. Rather than erase history, I’m letting the earlier comment stand as a way of pointing out my own imperfection. I know that all communities have a range of views. Generalizations based on race or religion are stupid. I sometimes say stupid things. Sometimes my anger speaks rather than my reason.
And change and growth continue, always, hey? Cheers, my dear. I struggle with those comparisons myself, because as a queer woman of colour they seem so obvious and strong. But I don’t come from an African-American background, which means I’m lacking a whole bunch of nuance and context. And also, one of the hardest things to deal with in civil rights work is the vast range of opinion on how to meet everybody’s needs, and whose rights really need protecting. Everybody thinks their own rights need protecting, but it’s often harder to see clearly across boundaries, I find. C’est la vie. Bottom line, the biggest thing I respect and love about this blog is how honestly you are trying, every day, to hold your heart as wide open as you can. Blessings, brother.