Subject: Gays in Schools (Oregon)
 Date: Mon, 8 Nov 1999 11:33:33 0500
 From: "Raymond Rideout" rlr1@mindspring.com
 To: "Ray's List" rlr1@mindspring.com

 Hi all

 While this article focuses on issues in Eugene Oregon relating to gays and
 lesbians in the schools, the stories repeat themselves throughout the
 nation, and certainly here in S. Florida.

 A citizens group in Oregon is pursuing a ballot initiative that would
 prohibit any student gaystraight alliance clubs and forbib any positive
 discussions of homosexuality in the schools.

 best Ray

 Eugene RegisterGuard,November 7, 1999
 Easy Targets: Gay and lesbian youths struggle to overcome harassment at
 area
 schools
 By ANNE WILLIAMS, The RegisterGuard
     Walk the halls of any local high school during a lunch eak, and odds
 are you'll hear it, probably more than once: "That is so gay."
     "Gay," used in this context, can describe everything from a haircut to a
 homework assignment to somebody's gym shoes. It is not a good thing.
     "When you're saying 'That's so gay,' you're saying, 'That's so stupid,'
 or 'That's so lame,'" 15yearold Megan Downing, a sophomore at Sheldon High
 School in Eugene, explained recently over lunch with three friends at the
 Subway sandwich shop across from the school.
     Thinking administrators at Springfield High were not protecting her from
 taunting, Amanda Crane, who is gay, transferred to South Eugene.
      "I don't think if people are gay they should be offended by that,"
 piped
 in Lysandra iscoe, 14.
     After all, the girls agreed, it's just an expression; it's not about
 homosexuality.
     But that little threeletter word, uttered time and time again, burns in
 the ears of some youths. And it's one of the more subtle examples of
 antigay bias they witness, sometimes on a daily basis.
     These are kids who know they are different, who may have known it for a
 long time. They are boys who never felt giddy over girls, girls who never
 felt giddy over boys. Maybe they still aren't sure just where they fit in
 sexually.
     Whether other students or school officials realize it, they are in most
 if not all high schools, in Lane County and across the country. Various
 national studies have estimated that gays and lesbians account for between 4
 percent and 10 percent of the population; most of those individuals realize
 it during their teen years.
     Many kids who keep their sexual orientation a secret say it makes them
 sick at heart. They want nothing more than to be themselves, to no longer
 pretend.
      The ones who come out, on the other hand, open themselves up to
 ostracism, ridicule, harassment, threats and even violence.
     A recent national survey by the Gay, Lesbian and Straight Education
 Network (GLSEN) of almost 500 gay and lesbian adolescents found that 69
 percent had been verbally, sexually or physically harassed in school. More
 than 90 percent said they sometimes or often hear antigay remarks in
 school.
     Closer to home, in a survey last spring of 1,612 middle and high school
 students in the Bethel School District, 51 percent said they often see
 harassment based on sexual orientation, compared with 18 percent who said
 they regularly witness racebased harassment. The survey also found that
 fewer than half of all high school boys shy away from telling jokes that are
 unkind to gays and lesbians.
     "In some ways, I think it's the best of times and the worst of times to
 be (a gay, lesbian or bisexual youth)," said Kevin Jennings, executive
 director of GLSEN, which works to stamp out homophobia in public schools.
     There's more support for gay kids than ever before, he said, with his
 group and its local chapters gathering steam and GayStraight Alliances –
 schoolsponsored clubs started by students concerned about homophobia –
 forming at hundreds of schools across the country, including two in Eugene.
      "But at the same time," Jennings added, "I think that's why we're
 seeing
 astounding levels of harassment. I think until very recently, people were
 in
 denial that there were gay and lesbian students in our schools. Certainly,
 there was always homophobia in schools, but what's changed is that where
 students used to suffer in silence, more and more students are coming out at
 a younger age.
     "And therefore the targets are more visible."
     Living in fear
     Amanda Crane, a 17yearold with short, own hair and a forthright
 demeanor, kept her secret from the time she was in middle school, when she
 first began to question her sexual orientation, until early in her sophomore
 year.
     That's when she confided in a couple of friends at Springfield High
 School, where she spent her freshman and sophomore years before transferring
 to South Eugene High School this fall.
     Soon, she said, the whole school seemed to know, and Amanda's world
 spiraled into an unending series of taunts, indignities and heartaches.
 Suddenly, she said, she was thrust into the spotlight as – as far as she
 knew
 – the school's only openly gay student.
     "It's a small community in Springfield, and you can feel a difference,"
 she said. "And basically, a lot of people just knew me as 'that gay girl.'
 "
     Boys would make crass remarks about threesomes. Girls would accuse her
 of watching them undress in the locker room. She lost track of how many
 times she was called a dyke or a fag. A couple of times, boys spit at her
 in
 the hallway, and once, she found "fag" written on her locker. Another time,
 she opened the locker door to find ketchup and soda pop poured inside.
     While Amanda was never physically harmed, she said she lived in fear of
 violence, hearing rumors about kids looking to beat her up.
     She didn't feel like she had any support from teachers or
 administrators.
     She said she never heard them intervene when kids used such words as
 "faggot" or "gay." She did seek help when a boy was sexually harassing her
 but said officials didn't seem to take it seriously enough.
     She told them she was gay, but they still questioned whether she hadn't
 ought the trouble on herself by acting "coquettish."
     "I didn't feel like anybody was behind me," she said. "I wanted to
 fight
 so much. I wanted them to protect me and treat me like a valued student so
 much, but they wouldn't."
     Springfield High School Principal Gene Heinle declined to comment on the
 specifics of Amanda's case, but he said it was investigated. The school,
 Heinle added, does not tolerate any kind of harassment, and staff members
 are
 trained to identify it and intervene.
     "I've always maintained the position that every student, no matter who
 they are, needs to be treated with respect and dignity," he said.
     But Amanda felt she was without allies. Her grades slipped from As and
 Bs to Cs and Ds, and by spring she opted not to reenroll at Springfield
 High
 School, even though she didn't know at that point just where she would go to
 school in the fall, or if she would go at all.
     "My initial thing was just to get out of Springfield High School," she
 said. "I didn't have a plan."
     High dropout rate
     For many gay and lesbian teens, school becomes unbearable. According to
 the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, about 28 percent of gay
 and
 lesbian youths drop out of high school, citing harassment and alienation.
 That's about three times the national average.
     Whether that trend holds locally is difficult to say, said Laura
 Phillips, who leads a Eugene support group for gay youths. She sees only a
 fraction of Lane County's gay teen population, she noted.
     But the question of staying in school is a dominant topic of discussion,
 she said, second only to deciding whether and when to come out to parents.
     "There have been a lot who have left high school prematurely," she said,
 and have earned a GED through Lane Community College or other programs.
 Rarely, she added, does a teen's decision to do so "feel like a free and
 happy choice."
     Phillips' group, called the Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgendered and
 Questioning Youth Group, meets every Friday afternoon at the Amazon
 Community
 Center.
     Phillips believes she's seen between 50 and 60 youths during the past
 year, representing several middle schools and every high school in Eugene
 and
 Springfield, as well as many in outlying areas.
     Much of the time, the discussion is lighthearted. The kids talk about
 the things all kids talk about – parents, movies, teachers, dating.
     But there's a palpable undercurrent of melancholy, said Phillips, 38, a
 lesbian who did not come out until she was 20. For some kids, the group is
 their sole outlet, the only place they can let down their guard.
     "I've heard everything from they're just feeling really painfully
 isolated to being teased to being threatened with physical assault to
 actually being physically assaulted," said Phillips, who has led the group
 since it began in April 1997. "Even in the most accepting schools, there
 are
 hallways you avoid. It's kind of like being a woman, when there are places
 you avoid going alone at night. But these kids feel this way in their own
 school."
     On a recent Friday night, nine of Phillips' regulars – including Amanda,
 who heard about the group midway through her sophomore year – sipped hot
 drinks at Allann others Beanery on Hilyard Street and talked about the
 climate for gay and lesbian kids in local schools.
     A couple of them graduated last spring, including 19yearold ian
 Vannett, who went to Mapleton High School, a rural school of about 200
 students.
     Not a soul knew he was gay, he said.
     "I wanted to come out so bad," he said, "but I was, like, a highly
 respected individual in high school." He was athletic, he said, "and I had
 this status I had to live up to."
     Most of the kids in Phillips' group go to South Eugene High School;
 some,
 like Amanda, transferred there from other schools.
     South, the kids agreed, stands alone as an oasis of diversity and
 acceptance among local schools.
     One boy, a 17yearold gay junior with bleached blond hair, transferred
 this fall from Sheldon, where he found attitudes toward gays and lesbians
 much more antagonistic. Like most of the kids interviewed for this story,
 he
 asked that his name not be printed.
     "South is like a safe haven," the boy said, adding that he believes most
 people at South know he's gay and don't hassle him about it. "It was like,
 I
 finally made it!"
     Still, gay slurs are common at South, the kids said, especially among
 certain crowds in certain areas.
     "When I'm in the drama hall, I almost never hear the word 'faggot,'"
 said
 Sifra, 16, a selfassured sophomore with closecropped hair who plays soccer
 and takes part in theater. "But I go to the other side of the building" –
 near the gymnasium and locker rooms – "and I hear it all the time."
     Safe refuge
     Sifra, who didn't want her last name used, is one of the students behind
 South Eugene's newly formed GayStraight Alliance, which met for the first
 time a couple of weeks ago. It is the second year South has had such a
 club,
 although last year's, started by a different group of kids, fizzled out
 after
 a few months.
     Another GayStraight Alliance just began for the first time at Churchill
 High School. The clubs welcome students and school staff, gay, straight or
 otherwise.
     One Churchill boy said the group finally gives him a safe refuge in a
 school where he hears homophobic epithets every day. Concerned about being
 identified, he asked that neither his name, age or grade appear in print.
     "I find myself rather being alone a lot of time," said the boy, who is
 questioning his sexual orientation. "It's really hard making friends like
 this. People have all these preconceived notions, like I'm going to try to
 hit on them."
     Joe Alsup, assistant principal at South, was the adviser for last year's
 GayStraight Alliance; the two meetings held so far this year have drawn
 about 15 kids, and Alsup hopes attendance will grow.
     Addressing homophobia, he said, is a special focus at South this year,
 partly because of the murder last year of Matthew Shepard, a Wyoming college
 student who was singled out because he was gay, then beaten and left for
 dead. Also, Alsup said, officials recognized that antigay language was a
 problem in the school.
     While most kids now realize that words such as "nigger" and "spic" are
 unacceptable and won't be tolerated at school, "it's not uncommon at all to
 hear 'dyke' or 'faggot,'" Alsup said. "There's a lot of education to take
 place before people realize how damaging that is. I don't think the
 majority
 of kids understand the maliciousness embedded in those comments. They don't
 realize the power they have to intimidate and hurt."
     Teachers throughout the Eugene district are trained to listen for such
 words, intervene and correct students. A new focus is peer correction, said
 Patrick Fraleigh, the district's professional development coordinator. He
 recently met with coaches at South, urging them to encourage athletes –
 often
 the leaders and stars of a school to step in when they witness harassment
 or hear inappropriate language. He's also targeting peer counselors and
 student government leaders.
     With words such as "gay" or "fag," which have become staples of the
 current teen vernacular, expecting students to correct one another is asking
 a lot, said Fraleigh, cochairman of a newly formed local chapter of GLSEN.
     "If a student hears a racial slur," he said, "it's pretty easy for a
 Caucasian to say, 'Knock that off. We don't do that here.' But for him to
 say the same thing in response to 'fag,' well, he might be asked, 'What's
 the
 matter. Are you gay?' "
     While students can be thoughtless, the remarks and attitudes of teachers
 and administrators can sting even worse, said several of the kids from
 Phillips' group.
     Some said they've heard teachers use the word "gay" in a derogatory way
 or crack insensitive or even offensive jokes.
     Such moments can be shattering, Phillips said, especially if the teacher
 was someone the student trusted and admired.
     Overcoming taboos
     Conversely, small things teachers do can make schools instantly feel
 friendlier for gay and lesbian students.
     One lesbian girl, a senior at South Eugene, recalled something a Spanish
 teacher once did in her class. The teacher was reading an oral exercise
 from
 a textbook that featured a couple named "Maria" and "Luis." Instead, the
 teacher changed "Luis" to "Luisa."
     "They don't have to go out of their way to teach gay history or
 something, but just not always, always assuming that everyone is
 heterosexual," she said.
     Fliers, posters and stickers, such as Safe Zone stickers that show a
 pink
 triangle, a symbol of gay pride, are also soothing signs for gay and lesbian
 students, even those who haven't come out to anyone.
     Several local schools have such materials posted on the walls in
 counselors' offices, health clinics and in some classrooms.
     "Kids look for clues all the time," said Elise Self, 54, who cochairs
 both the local GLSEN chapter and the local chapter of Parents, Families and
 Friends of Lesbians and Gays (PFLAG).
     "Who is safe? Who is accepting? It can be a little thing, something as
 small as one little word you say or whether you interrupt harassment when
 you
 hear it, or a picture on your classroom wall that depicts a different kind
 of
 family."
     It also helps gay and lesbian students, as well as kids who have gay
 parents, siblings and friends, realize they're not alone – that there are
 others like them.
     Self's 29yearold daughter, Jennifer Self, recently led a daylong
 training session in Eugene for teachers from all over Oregon.
     She talked about why so many gay teens feel alienated and discriminated
 against in school, and ways teachers can create a safe environment in which
 they can learn.
     "People are imming with energy, they're hungry for this kind of
 information, because it's something that, for so many years, people have
 been
 scared to talk about," said Self, a lesbian who helped found the GLSEN
 chapter. "It's been a taboo, that there's this kind of harassment going
 on."
     Kevin Jennings of GLSEN's national office said it's important for
 teachers and administrators to realize that taking steps to be more
 inclusive
 and quash antigay harassment does not amount to an endorsement of
 homosexuality.
     Teachers, like anyone else, he said, are entitled to their own values
 and
 beliefs, which may include the belief that homosexuality is morally wrong.
     But teachers have a legal obligation to help all students achieve their
 educational potential, he said.
     "That's the beautiful thing about America, we don't all agree," said
 Jennings, 36, a former history teacher who came out to his students. "But
 we
 should all agree on teaching respect for all students in our schools."
     Equal treatment
     Jennings also believes that it's critically important for school
 districts to include "sexual orientation" in their antidiscrimination and
 harassment policies, right alongside race, color, religion, gender and other
 terms used to describe the basis for harassment.
     Just three of the 16 districts in Lane County – Eugene, Bethel and
 Lowell
 – have policies that include the term.
     Cherie Kistner, spokeswoman for the Springfield School District, said
 officials there believe it's covered in their policy language, which defines
 harassment as "verbal or physical conduct that denigrates or shows hostility
 or aversion" toward someone based on "race, color, religion, sex, national
 origin, age, disability, alienage or citizenship status, marital status,
 creed, or any other characteristic protected by law."
     "I think it's our intent that sexual orientation is included under any
 of
 our sexual harassment and discrimination policies and procedures," she said.
     But unless it's clearly spelled out in either local policy or state law,
 the protection really isn't there, Jennings argued. In only four states –
 Massachusetts, Connecticut, Wisconsin and, as of this fall, California – is
 discrimination based on sexual orientation expressly forbidden in public
 schools.
     Also, he said, the absence of such language "makes teachers and
 principals who do the right things wonder, 'Am I going to get any support
 here, or am I out here alone?'"
     School districts are making strides, Jennings said, but there's a long
 way to go before gay and lesbian students will feel safe and accepted at
 most
 of the nation's schools.
     GLSEN will soon issue its annual "backtoschool report card," he said,
 which rates a large school district in each state based on characteristics,
 such as whether the school has a GayStraight Alliance, what sort of
 training
 teachers receive on antigay harassment and whether gay or lesbian issues
 are
 addressed in any school curriculum.
     "The average grade was a D," Jennings said.
     But Jennings finds reason for hope when he sees today's gay and lesbian
 students fighting back and coming out in greater numbers.
     "I'm incredibly optimistic, primarily because I think this is a
 generation that is not going to accept secondclass citizen status," he
 said.
 "Just like young people of color in the '60s and '70s did not take no for an
 answer, these young people are insisting that they be treated equally."

 FOR MORE INFORMATION
     Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgendered and Questioning Youth Group
 Meets
 Friday afternoons at the Amazon Community Center. Laura Phillips, 6843466.
     Churchill High School GayStraight Alliance Meets Tuesdays at 3:15
 p.m.
 at Churchill, Room F36. Marilyn Stevens, 6873233.
     South Eugene High School GayStraight Alliance Meets Wednesdays at
 3:30
 p.m. at South Eugene, Room 304. Trent Seager, 3425088.
     Parents, Families and Friends of Lesbians and Gays 3024422;
 www.pflag.org
     Gay, Lesbian and Straight Education Network 3024422 (leave message on
 PFLAG number); www.glsen.org