Published in the Idaho State Journal on November 25, 2018
Last Friday the Pocatello High School Human Rights and Art
Clubs painted the rock in front of the school. Using six different cans of
paint, they transformed the rock into a rainbow. This was a representation of the LGBT pride
flag and a peace flag. I am a co-advisor for the Human Rights Club, but I missed
the last few meetings due to my day job. I didn’t know about the rock painting
until I received a picture that afternoon. There were 11 beaming smiles behind
the same rock I painted more than 25 years ago when I was a student at Poky
High.
After work, I drove to the school to photograph the rock on
its own. I went to bed Friday night proud of those kids for being such an
active and visible part of their student body and thrilled that the
administration and student council supported their efforts. Sixteen year old me
never would have imagined.
On Saturday morning, my friend and former classmate Courtney
Fisher messaged me. Courtney is also the spokesperson for Pocatello Chubbuck
School District 25. “Did you see on
Facebook that the rock was vandalized last night?” I hoped it was good ole Highland or Century rivalry
related, but my gut knew it wasn’t.
Someone spray painted “fag flag” on the front.
I immediately worried about the students. I wanted to fix it before they found out. I
didn’t want them to be upset by the words or know their work was ruined. I also didn’t want them to retaliate out of
hurt and anger. Feelings of hurt and anger are such a natural part of our human
existence, and as advisors it was now on us to discuss healthy coping
strategies and assist students as they processed these feelings.
When I was a junior at Poky and ran for student body
president, art teacher and legend Bob Beason drew a caricature of me for
campaign posters. Someone scribbled male
genitalia on a few along with that same slur. My reaction then was similar. I was
sad that someone marred Mr. Beason’s work, and I didn’t want him to find out.
I was not out in high school, but apparently my mullet was.
An image of the rock with the graffiti hit Facebook before
the school district’s maintenance crew could cover it. At the time of this writing,
people are still sharing the picture with the slur along with commentary about
their disgust, anger, and hurt. There’s
no way to determine if the vandal was bored, intending to cause fear,
expressing true hatred or an LGBT individual seeking to garner attention. My
thought is that this was likely done out of adolescent mischief and that the
offender is not fully aware of the hate and hurt that F-word carries. Regardless,
the tagging of the Poky rock last weekend stung the LGBT community, myself
included.
Every time the image containing the slur was shared on
social media, so was the ignorance and ill will. Friends and strangers expressed that people
should be aware this language is still used and that hate still exists. There’s
a fine line between spreading awareness and spreading hate.
It is incumbent upon us as LGBT individuals that while we
are spreading awareness of our struggles or coping with them through public
displays and commentary on social media, that we are also spreading hope. When
we use one breath to tell law makers, law enforcement and fellow citizens that hate
and discrimination exist, we must use the next breath to encourage others like
us to keep living and loving.
I’ve dealt with being called a “fag” for 30+ years. I don’t like it, and it breaks my heart when
I see people wounded by the word. It can make me afraid of what other acts
might follow, but I’ve learned to live with caution, not fear.
As the image made its way across social media, people saw
and felt the slur, but they didn’t see and feel the joy of the kids who painted
the rock together. For the first time (that
I’m aware of), an element of that longtime tradition celebrated and recognized
a population of students who’ve always been there but often felt like they needed
to live in the shadows. The can’t-miss rainbow at the entrance of Poky High wasn’t
a political statement; it was a testament to the school motto “PHS: Where
everybody is somebody.”
Two advisors repainted the rainbow on Saturday. It was
tagged again Sunday night and another art teacher restored it Monday morning.
She added the words “Be Kind.” Soon the
rock will go back to red and blue, but for a few days it’s been a colorful display
of everything the Pocatello High School rock represents – bold, enduring and resilient
Poky Pride.
