Pride, You Made Me Proud.


A warning, if you came here for my usual nonsense, this isn’t the post for you, but please click here for a post about fucked up children’s literature, or this one about how I am incapable of returning gifts.


Three of my friends (also teachers), and I are sponsors in a community organization which supports LGBTQ youth and allies.  Due to the tireless work of one of my fellow sponsors, we were lucky enough to take our kids to march, this weekend, in the Phoenix Pride Parade.

After several hours of staging, just as we were about to launch down the parade route, one of our girls turned to me, shoulders down, eyes huge, and said, “Ms. M, I’m scared,” and my heart stopped for a second.  I knew why she was scared.  She was scared because this meant thousands of people looking at her…because she was standing in front of them, declaring her true self at the ripe old age of fifteen…and because she knew, somewhere, we’d likely meet opposition that she wouldn’t know how to handle.  I squeezed her shoulder and told her that it was going to be fun, and prayed like hell that I was right.

What happened, was that for the next thirty minutes, our kids met nothing but cheers, high-fives, and applause from thousands of strangers, who took a little time out of their Sunday to sit on a curb in downtown Phoenix, and send them the biggest overwhelming cloud of love and acceptance imaginable.  A cloud which wrapped around all of them, stronger than any armor man has ever wrought.  Long before our mile was up, our girl, once so scared, had her shoulders thrown back and her head held high, and she was the definition of Pride.  My heart…it was, and still is, so terribly full.


And, yes, at the end of the route, there were protesters holding terrible signs and screaming hateful things. Wisely, the organizers placed the huge speaker system right next to them to drown them out with Lady Gaga, but by then, our kids were impervious, and the demonstration warranted nothing more than the roll of their keen adolescent eyes, and for that I am grateful.

Love will always be so much more powerful than hate, and self-acceptance is greater than fear.  You did me proud today, Phoenix…thank you from the bottom of my heart.


Deck The Halls With Boughs Of Folly

I went conservative.  Or my version of conservative...

I went conservative. Or my version of conservative…

While shopping at Target for an ornament exchange I was attending, for an organization I’m involved with, that supports and connects LGBTQ community members with peers and some straight allies.

Caolinn: “What do you want to get?”

Me: “It has to be a un-traditional and fun, bordering on campy.  Those are the ones that everyone fights over.”

Caolinn: “How about this one?  It’s masculine, but also sort of sexy.”  (Holds up Superman ornament complete with abs.)

Me: “Lesbians outnumber the men 10:1 at this thing, I have to find something for my ladies who like ladies.  Wait…do they have Wonder Woman?”

Caolinn: “Nope, but they have this…”  (smirking)



Me: “Too far.”


(Ironically, someone else brought it, and it was a huge hit.  *sigh*)

If You Get 100% On Your Mid-Term, I’ll Teach You How To Do A Smoky-Eye.



I promise that the following sentimental soap box will be followed by something ridiculous, because, frankly…that’s my style.

As some of you know, I am a teacher, specializing in students with emotional and behavioral concerns, and I truly believe my kids are the MOST incredible people.  One of my very favorites (and, yes, they’re all my favorites) is D’Avonte.  D’Avonte is just over 6’3″, and comes to school, every day, in full drag.  I love her.  At an age where most teenagers panic over a pimple, she has unabashedly accepted herself, in all of her transgender glory.  Her unapologetic self-acceptance is contagious, making others not only take her, as she is, but also hopefully teaching them to appreciate and embrace people, who differ from themselves.  I wish I had ten-percent of her self-esteem, and a hundred-percent of her ability to strut her ass down the hallways in heels like she’s heading for Milan.

The following conversation took place in my math class with one of her friends…and yes, they were both kidding, so don’t call the police.

Navaeh: “You better stop looking at me like that, or I’m gonna come over there with this pencil and shank your ass.”

D’Avonte: “You can try, but I’m gonna sllllllap you across your face and throw my wig at you.”


Seriously, how lucky am I to have these kids?  I am so damn grateful that of all the jobs in the world…this is mine.