in Life's name and for Life's sake

Using one of the quotes below (or your own favorite quotation) as a jumping off point, tell us about an event or experience that helped you define one of your values.

But what do I consider my values? Are passion and determination values? Because I could certainly write about how those impacted my life. When I initially read this question, I thought I should write about the first Day of Silence in which I participated. I hadn't been participating in GSA at the time -- to tell the truth, I was too afraid that the new friends I'd earned over the course of my first two years at Mission would shun me for it. Now, I know that those friends a) probably wouldn't have shunned me because their values matched mine but were just being less expressed, or b) weren't really meant to be friends, and that participating openly could have helped me shake them off sooner. But at the time I did it, I was almost...scared. I didn't know what people would think of me, and that was difficult.

But sophomore year was the year I met Tony, and being around him and seeing how intelligent and ridiculous he was, how wonderful and laughable and human he was, made me realize that all of the divisions others were busy erecting had nothing to do with the real world. Sexuality and personality are completely separate, and that year I was provided with the chance to know Tony for the first time -- not just as "that smart kid who wears scarves," but as the kid in five of my classes, who shared my interests and understood my idiosyncracies, whose words were in harmony with my own love of language and whose follies, though humbling, were also victories over perfection. I think that if everyone in the world could get to know some of the people I know in the ways that I know them, they would have their eyes opened.

But back to the day. I remember the first signs of its going on were Tony and Jared running around, battling the administration for the right to celebrate respect for unity in a diverse world. I remember thinking how absolutely ridiculous it was for people to even try to argue that something as well-meaning as the Day of Silence could cause harm.

And after living through that day, I knew that the only pain caused was the pain that some felt when they were forced to open their eyes to the reality of acceptance and respectful love that existsed all around them -- and, potentially (if some of them dug deep enough), within them. That one day was an eye-opener: not just for those who watched as a mass of people, dressed all in black, ate lunch in the middle of the quad in silence, but also for the participants, like myself, who realized that sometimes the best way to make use of freedom of speech is to say nothing at all.

This year will be the third year that the Gay-Straight Alliance at my school has hosted a Day of Silence, as well as my third year as a participant, and I'm proud of that. In the past, we've received sprinkled opposition from those I can't understand -- those people who have the nerve to come to school wearing, not all black, but all white. I hurt for them and for the open-minded nature they do not understand. This year, it's been rumored that the Christian Ministries club on campus intends to put on a "Day of Truth" in opposition to our Day of Silence. Their plans are to wear all white and tell everyone they see about the follies of our over-tolerance -- because apparently, it's wrong to love everyone for who they are. Some members of GSA have said that we should protest their day as they have always protested ours. Myself, I don't agree with this. They have just as much a right to their message as we do to ours, and I think we look better if we show them we have the ability to be that much more mature and accepting. I know that on whatever day they schedule, I'll come wearing white -- a hand-made shirt bearing simply the words, "'Love your neighbor as yourself.' There is no commandment greater..."

Scream

Shadows walk the roads today, the shadows where people were, but are no longer the world is filled with such empty places,

But better shadow than hole, holes aren't there, the blinding blank nothing of their presence stuns shocks awakens makes nothing out of nothing for sake of no one forsaking everyone,

In this dance of not-ness, the shadows wander combine attach form groups so the shadow grows, widens, connects to all other shadows through a moment-life of silence

Which echoes through the streets, pounds past the lynchings and the beatings and through the mad dark streets of backcity sound and laughter somewhere,

Past the righteous world passing judgment like the Son of God itself, but out of form, in the wrong costume the heavenly power rots and decays, there is nothing left for the televangelists to kill,

So dead is a world where only shadows speak, and only speak through the sound of empty, echoing beating loudly through the white noise importance with lucid form, form of light, star against the night,

Coming out at the end of the railroad tunnel overpass where the weeds grew and the light dimmed and the people were lost to the overgrowth of a history inaccepting of their very existence, then what can be done, what will be attempted,

What are you doing here, trying to make a difference, they want to know, what can you do, you're only one and one and only, but they don't see the shadows that follow me, I say, and help me in my cause, and whisper silently into the night,

Telling how they must not be lost lonely gone away forgotten...

......................................................

I wrote that in third period today, reminiscing about our Day of Silence. I think that today was a very powerful experience for a lot of people, myself included. It is so heartening to see that there are people who support tolerance and are willing to fight for it. The number against us does not matter nearly as much as the number for us.

This poem is slightly patterned after Allen Ginsberg's "Howl," which I read for the first time last night. Something about the raw emotion of it got to me, and this is my response, in poetic form.

Later, I'll be typing up what was said by other participants on this day -- important conversations, things that mattered, things they learned and why they even participated in the first place. Tony and I might end up creating a book of the things that happened today, and trying to get it noticed. Mr. Vargish always quotes from Hamlet, saying "The play's the thing to prick the conscience of the king." Well, maybe the play for this cause still needs to be written, and maybe it can be written by us.

If any of you who are reading this participated and want to write up a narrative about your day -- even just a part of it -- let me know, and by all means, write it. At the very least, we can put together some sort of book for ourselves to remember this day by. Beyond that, who knows, but I'll admit that I think there would me nothing more brilliant than creating a formidable manuscript out of first-hand accounts from participants and getting it published. Call me optimistic, but I think it can be done. No matter how we put it together, I'm thinking we should call it "A Diary of Silence: One Day, Many Stories." I just really like the way that sounds. Anyone interested in preserving the events of this day, or with any ideas on the matter -- I want to know what you think! This is a pet project that just appeared into my head, I don't know if it's even going to happen, it all depends on the sort of response I get. But I think it would work, marvelously so, with the right sort of backing...