Posted 7:47 PM by Michelle

One year ago yesterday I was on the border of the United States and Canada, in Glacier National Park. I'd been away from home for three weeks training in Salt Lake City, Utah, and the days before had driven north to the starting point of my trek. I've been thinking about the influence of last summer, and I've come to the conclusion that it actually has changed my life. Since then, I've no fear of the outdoors, of heat, of lack of sleep, of not showering for weeks. I also got a good taste of what it's like to think you are doing something great and to be reduced to doing not much more than cooking dinner. But within weeks I could also pitch a tent in under two minutes and make dinner out of the dregs of vegetables and canned soup at the bottom of a cooler. I also have only approached my hair dryer, and any serious makeup for that matter, once since returing last October. And that was for a Christmas party.

I also feel as though it has made me lust for the Peace Corps. Wherever I go, I will be essentially on my own, and whatever happens will be a result of my work. I'm scared I won't be able to go for some random health reason. I'm trying to remain open and ready for whatever decision comes from Washington but I'm also... unsure. It's a terrific lesson in patience.

Yesterday I at work I rushed upstairs during my shift in hopes of an available bathroom and a co-worked was sitting at a desk reading the paper. The headlines screamed "GAY HIGHSCHOOL TO OPEN IN NEW YORK". My first instinct was to say to my co-worker, "Hey, cool, I can't believe they are doing that". Ten minutes later, as my station downstairs was undoubtedly going up in flames, I was still sitting at the desk talking about this high school. The person reading the paper was a twenty-year-old gay man, and as we talked I was given pause.

My initial thoughts when debating this idea were simply this: enough money and recognition is going towards the gay community that they can open a school. Gay kids won't get harassed and beaten anymore. Gay kids can be open as early as Freshman year of high school without fear of repercussion.

But then... gay kids will always have it harder than non-gays. In my lifetime there will not be full tolerance, and hate crimes will not cease to exist. So do we raise our gay kids in an environment where they will never have to deal with hate, with fear, with violence against their kind, and then send them off into the work force where no such illusion exists? Do we let them form themselves during those hugely important years without learning to tell homophobes to f**k off? Do we let them believe that they will never be harassed for being gay, and by doing this, not allow them the defense mechanisms that they will need for the rest of their lives? Can we really create this false sense of security that could ultimately, and let's be specific and historic on this issue, get them killed?

I'm not saying that just because every kid in the school is gay that they will not have a hard time. High school is hard no matter what. And maybe if it is a multi-racial school they will learn what it is like to be different from one another. But if you put 100 white gay kids in one school, I have to believe that they will not learn to deal with the real world.

But even more than that, I worry about the kids in the regular high schools who were the abusers. If we take all of the gays out of the non-gay high school, that will create even more ignorance and fear among the kids that were raised to hate gay people. The best thing to happen to a homophobe, in a situation like this, is to find out that one of their friends is gay. The fearful person then learns first-hand that their friend is both their friend, and worthy of that, but also gay. What if the grade and high schools had remained segregated? How do you suppose I grew up not believing what I was told but what I experienced first hand? My first crush was on a black boy at Taylor Elementary. I was in the 4th grade, and his name was Stephen. The year was 1981. Not too many years before, we would have been in separate schools, and I would not have been able to concieve of having a crush on a black person.

I don't want hate-filled people growing up in schools that enforce that hate because of seclusion and segregation. And I don't want gay kids growing up without learning to defend and believe in themselves when their very nature is attacked. I cannot believe that this is a good idea.

Posted 9:28 PM by Michelle

My apartment is the pit of despair, my bank account is in shambles, my cat is sicker than ever and my career as a writer is nonexistent. And yet, I'm happy.

I slept until 2 PM today. Which means I slept through my French class. But as soon as I woke, I had lunch with my brother Steve, and then fixed (yet another) flat on my bike. Which allowed me to ride in this not-even-quite-80-degree weather into the city to my yoga center. And there, I went to a rooftop yoga class in which my practice, oft ignored this last month, went deeper than ever.

My teacher, the venerable Dana Flynn, was talking to us near the end of class as our sweat seeped through the wick in our clothes and our minds filtered her words and the New York night. She said many things, she said silly things, and she reminded us that our lives are now. She also said something that made tears burst from my eyes. She said that living well today takes care of the past. That good choices today make previous bad choices okay. I spend too much of my life beating myself up. These last couple of days I've spent berating myself up for freaking out during my last night in New Orleans.

The reason for my freak was because I could not find my shoes. Neither pair. They were lost, although they were only in the next room, and I in turn, lost it. But I did not lose it because I could not find my shoes; I lost it because I was filled with alcohol and lacking sleep and most importanly, because I was so sad the weekend was ending. And for about ten minutes, I was so upset I was crying. And I've been ashamed of that these last two days, ready to apologize to my brothers.

But when was the last time they apologized to me for their behavior? Long ago. And not because they have been perfect, but because both Sean and Ian are able to accept themselves, and see minor freak-outs as part of life. And this weekend is a testament to them both, particularly Ian, who brought such incredible people together, and who held onto them for years.

So screw apologizing for my behavior. I've always found apologies empty anyway. What matters is what you do next, not the words you find after the event. And by living better, none of us need to apologize. Ian has some of the coolest people I know for friends, a veritable posse of them, most of whom could not even make it to New Orleans. But those that showed were so funny and terrific to remind me that Ian isn't just my brother. He is a friend that has inspired enough allegiance and love that I'm dizzy in the company of his friends. The best choice I've made in months was to buy that ticket to New Orleans, and I hope to keep making those good choices. I may have years of bad choices to haunt me, but I have the rest of my life to do something about it.

Posted 9:46 PM by Michelle

I would like to explain my absence of late. No, I was not having yet another hard week. Nor was I working so much that I was too exhausted to put pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard. No. I was in New Orleans at my brother Ian's bachelor party.

I think I will refrain from describing most of it, since there is no way to do justice in the retelling. I remember most of it, which is a miracle since I think we almost drank that town dry, but I think I'll keep my hazy memories to myself. However, I will say that at one point, at something like 5 AM in a casino, I told everyone there- about ten men- that if I ever get married, I want to celebrate my bachlorette party with them. No women, just me and my brothers' friends, back in New Orleans.

I've rarely felt so free of responsibility, so able to go along with the flow, so happy to be in company. And while my bank account and brain cells may never recover, I'm beyond happy that I went, and that I have the kind of brothers who wanted me there.