Thirty-one years ago, when I was fourteen years old and living in Forest Hills, New York, I had an experience that would forever change the way I think about the basic decency of people.
It was a tough year. It was the Summer of Sam, and his hunting ground was my backyard.
My parents were fighting constantly, and I knew that they would eventually divorce (they did, a year later). The friends I had grown up with split off into cliques, and one of them -- with whom I took every class -- decided that I was no longer worthy of their friendship. They never taped a sign to my back that said "kick me," but they might as well have, and I don't really know why.
But beyond all this--beyond Son of Sam, and the death of Elvis, and the heat waves and the garbage strikes and the blackout and the divorce--beyond all this, I had to cope with the fact that I was beginning to feel a lot different than my friends. Again, I really didn't know why.
I never thought that it was a particularly obvious difference. Until one day, while I was sitting in class with my former friends behind me making some sort of snarky joke at my expense, my math teacher (not her real subject), Mrs. Epstein (not her real name), wanted to know if it was true. If I was gay. When I didn't respond--when I just wanted to put my head down on the desk and make believe I wasn't there--Mrs. Epstein looked past me, and asked the rest of the class. Again.
It was, in retrospect, preposterous. I was fourteen years old, and I had no words for what I was starting to sense about myself. But in fact, it was not preposterous. It was my young life that she was talking about. Mrs. Epstein, standing in front of me, with her crazy Janis Ian hair and her John Lennon glasses and bell bottoms and cowl neck sweaters, had painted a scarlet letter on me. The target practice that my former friends had used me for would be a little bit sharper: they now had something definite to aim for, because it was sanctioned by an adult who happened to be their teacher, and an authority figure.
Over the years, I have thought a lot about Mrs. Epstein, and the fact that I had to sit in her class every day, day after day, for an entire school year. But ultimately, she was right: after dating men and even being briefly engaged at one point, I realized that I couldn't try to be something I wasn't, anymore than I could try to be tall and skinny, or to have green eyes.
I could no longer try to be a straight woman, when I was not one, whatever the consequences.
So today, with the overturning of the ban on gay marriage in my state of Connecticut, I found myself thinking about small-minded, mean-edged bigots in positions of authority, and how, when "different" kids are left in their care, they can make their intolerance somehow "official" and actually incite the cruel bullying of the young people that our taxdollars pay them to care for and instruct.
Certainly, and thankfully, we are living in a vastly different world than we were back then in 1977, when I was a fourteen year old girl in Mrs. Epstein's class. As a forty five year old woman in a settled, committed relationship, I would love to have a chat with her now to ask what she says to and about young people in her class whom she suspects might be gay. Maybe she's grown wiser over time. Maybe she understands that it is simply a civil rights issue. And even if she doesn't approve, perhaps she's more tolerant, like Sarah Palin.
As for me, when I stand up before the justice of the peace; when I hear the absolutely unthinkable--my name and the word "marriage" used in the same sentence; when I look into the eyes of the woman I love, and can safely demand and expect the same rights accorded to every tax-paying citizen of this country whether I am liked or I am not; I'll be thinking of 1977, and Mrs. Epstein, and I'll likely weep for joy, but also for that young, frightened woman she taunted, who never thought that she would ever be deserving of marriage.
Our 2024 Coverage Needs You
It's Another Trump-Biden Showdown — And We Need Your Help
The Future Of Democracy Is At Stake
Our 2024 Coverage Needs You
Your Loyalty Means The World To Us
As Americans head to the polls in 2024, the very future of our country is at stake. At HuffPost, we believe that a free press is critical to creating well-informed voters. That's why our journalism is free for everyone, even though other newsrooms retreat behind expensive paywalls.
Our journalists will continue to cover the twists and turns during this historic presidential election. With your help, we'll bring you hard-hitting investigations, well-researched analysis and timely takes you can't find elsewhere. Reporting in this current political climate is a responsibility we do not take lightly, and we thank you for your support.
Contribute as little as $2 to keep our news free for all.
Can't afford to donate? Support HuffPost by creating a free account and log in while you read.
The 2024 election is heating up, and women's rights, health care, voting rights, and the very future of democracy are all at stake. Donald Trump will face Joe Biden in the most consequential vote of our time. And HuffPost will be there, covering every twist and turn. America's future hangs in the balance. Would you consider contributing to support our journalism and keep it free for all during this critical season?
HuffPost believes news should be accessible to everyone, regardless of their ability to pay for it. We rely on readers like you to help fund our work. Any contribution you can make — even as little as $2 — goes directly toward supporting the impactful journalism that we will continue to produce this year. Thank you for being part of our story.
Can't afford to donate? Support HuffPost by creating a free account and log in while you read.
It's official: Donald Trump will face Joe Biden this fall in the presidential election. As we face the most consequential presidential election of our time, HuffPost is committed to bringing you up-to-date, accurate news about the 2024 race. While other outlets have retreated behind paywalls, you can trust our news will stay free.
But we can't do it without your help. Reader funding is one of the key ways we support our newsroom. Would you consider making a donation to help fund our news during this critical time? Your contributions are vital to supporting a free press.
Contribute as little as $2 to keep our journalism free and accessible to all.
Can't afford to donate? Support HuffPost by creating a free account and log in while you read.
As Americans head to the polls in 2024, the very future of our country is at stake. At HuffPost, we believe that a free press is critical to creating well-informed voters. That's why our journalism is free for everyone, even though other newsrooms retreat behind expensive paywalls.
Our journalists will continue to cover the twists and turns during this historic presidential election. With your help, we'll bring you hard-hitting investigations, well-researched analysis and timely takes you can't find elsewhere. Reporting in this current political climate is a responsibility we do not take lightly, and we thank you for your support.
Contribute as little as $2 to keep our news free for all.
Can't afford to donate? Support HuffPost by creating a free account and log in while you read.
Dear HuffPost Reader
Thank you for your past contribution to HuffPost. We are sincerely grateful for readers like you who help us ensure that we can keep our journalism free for everyone.
The stakes are high this year, and our 2024 coverage could use continued support. Would you consider becoming a regular HuffPost contributor?
Dear HuffPost Reader
Thank you for your past contribution to HuffPost. We are sincerely grateful for readers like you who help us ensure that we can keep our journalism free for everyone.
The stakes are high this year, and our 2024 coverage could use continued support. If circumstances have changed since you last contributed, we hope you'll consider contributing to HuffPost once more.
Support HuffPostAlready contributed? Log in to hide these messages.