January 22, 1992. My most vivid memory from that day was of standing completely naked in my living room. The scene around me was frenetic and chaotic, but I remember feeling like I was in slow motion. It was early in the morning, maybe around 5:30am or so. The front door was wide open. It was frigid out and dark. I remember the flashing lights from the firetruck and ambulance in front of the house. I can still see the firemen walking into the house…
Ah, it’s New Year’s Day and here we go again: retooling, tweaking, course correcting and generally polishing up our less-than-perfect lives. New Year’s Day is, in essence, the giant do-over. I’m taking a pass on resolutions this year. (I’m always trying to lose weight. What’s to resolve?) But there are a few things kicking around in my heart and mind as we step out, step up and step into 2011. Life as a Tango…
On any given day at any given school, a tween or teenager is being harassed because he/she is gay or perceived as such. They slam him against a locker and call him “faggot.” Taunts about her sexuality are scrawled across the walls in the girls’ bathroom. When they walk down the hallways of the school, they are subjected to mean commentary and vicious ridicule. With hormones run amok and ever shifting social dynamics, life for a young person coming of age is hard enough. But…
