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COMMING SOON:
C.H.A.D.
A web site to give hope to gay high school kids.
MY STORY
Joey was your classic homophobic-teen; Classic Redneck is a better description. A "good-ole-boy" in the foothills of the north Georgia mountains. Each a carbon copy of the next. To gain a "good-ole-boy" status, one must meet the following criteria:
1) Drive a big jacked-up Ford (Piss on Chevy decal and all), or Chevy (Piss on Ford, of course), loud ass trucks.
2) Wear a simple tee-shirt, usually sporting the Confederate flag, and blue jeans with a tobacco-can imprint permentaly outlined in the back pocket. A "good-ole-boy" always has his dip.
3) Oh yeah, how could I have forgotten. A belt-buckle that could be a versatile dinner plate. Slab of ribs anyone?
Joey defiantly had the "good-ole-boy" stamp of approval.
Over the summer between my freshman and sophomore year, I came out to my female best friend. The summer continued and I grew anxious as the new school year approached. Had I done the right thing by telling someone this exciting secrete? My Sophomore year started out like normal, but after about two weeks, things began to change. People were avoiding me; How strange. I had been a stand out "cool" kid since preschool. Everyone knew me. I was third in my class my freshman year. Now, instead of being looked at with smiles; I was being looked at with sniggers and whispering. My exciting secret was out. As the "have you heard?" story spread, the name calling and physical threats began.
The most shocking experience happened in my Algebra 2 class. Joey, remember him, sat at the back of the class with his boys. The teacher had asked one of the boys for the answer to a question. The teacher asked him if he had been listening. Joey spoke up. "No, he wasn't. He was day dreaming about that faggot Chad". I sat there, mortified, waiting for my stomach to stop rolling. I was getting physically sick. The teacher looked at me with a "what do I do" stare on his face. His answer, Nothing. I got up and went to the bathroom and cried. What else was I suppose to do? I didn't know what to do or say. I collected my composure and returned to class.
I endured four more weeks of name calling and threats. At the end of the six week class rotation, I withdrew from public school and lost a personal battle....
I don't want to loose the war.
E-Mail me with links and information if you'd like to help. Just click the link below.
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