Caution, Hope and Poky Pride

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.