Bullying: Not letting it go

A couple of weeks ago, students from the University of Virginia organized a candlelight vigil on the steps of Thomas Jefferson's Rotunda to remember the young people who have taken their own lives because they were bullied for being gay or perceived as being gay.

For me, and those who were there, it was a very powerful evening, filled with not just tears and speeches, but also with a steel resolve to end the bullying and call it out when we find it.

I don't want to let that evening pass as just another checkmark on a long to-do list this Fall.

So I want to bring two items to your attention today. First, sent by a friend, this blog item written by a mom whose five-year-old boy dressed up as Daphne from Scooby Doo. Yeah, he dressed like a girl. So what? Do we wonder where the bullies learn to be bullies? The bullies were other moms. Please read this by clicking HERE.

And then today I want to post the speech given at the UVA vigil by Sean Bugg, who is a fourth-year UVA student and a pillar of our Canterbury Episcopal student community. Sean was physically attacked on the street a few weeks ago outside of our Canterbury house by someone who jumped out of an SUV and shoved him to the ground, likely because of Sean's appearance. Here is Sean's speech, and I am very proud of Sean for his courage in speaking at the vigil:

By Sean Bugg

Over the past week I have watched online videos from the “It Gets Better Project” in an attempt to find some sort of answer to the tragedies we’ve heard about in the news. I’ve heard uplifting words from celebrities, such as Tim Gunn, as well as heart wrenching ones from Ellen Degeneres. A complete stranger even e-mailed me his video when he heard of the attack I suffered in the middle of September. But my words aren’t meant to be about me or what I’ve been through.

Suffice it to say, however, that in light of my own victimization and learning of the deaths of these young LGBT teens, I have lost my faith in humanity and am struggling to regain it. I don’t care who you are or what you believe, nor does it matter what your or my own personal convictions are. There is nothing in this world, there is nothing in this life, more precious and sacred than a human life. I won’t lie to you, because I can’t lie to you. I am angry, furious, and livid that our society would allow such terrible things to happen. I simply cannot fathom the crimes that have been committed against such wonderful, promising, gifted, and innocent persons.

As a poet and as someone who studies poetry, there is nothing more beautiful in the world to me than the testimony, than the sound of an other’s voice telling their story; and because of intolerance, because of someone else’s ignorance, we will never hear the voices of these elegant and graceful souls. Their voices have been silenced unjustly. This silencing sickens me to my very core. We are here tonight to give these youths the justice they deserve.

What happened is not removed from us by any degree, however minute. We, as members of this society, of this country, bear full responsibility for their unfortunate deaths. We must work to rectify this, because they truly are crimes against humanity, for which we must atone and ensure never happen again.
I see tonight as a gathering of people who wish to give voices to those who have had theirs prematurely taken away from them. Tonight is about – to borrow the words of a personal idol, American poet Walt Whitman – we came here this evening to “…sound [our] barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.”

The following are the voices of those named below, whose lives were senselessly ended merely because they dared to be true to their selves, because they were bold enough to embrace their identities.

This is the voice of Tyler Clementi: [silence]
This is the voice of Asher Brown: [silence]
This is the voice of Seth Walsh: [silence]
This is the voice of Billy Lucas: [silence]
This is the voice of Zach Harrington: [silence]
This is the voice of Aiyisha Hassan: [silence]

And these are the voices of those for whom we have no names, but whose voices have nevertheless been stilled: [silence].

They will never know the joy of having their name called out at a commencement ceremony, nor know love’s first kiss, nor the pleasure of another autumn. They will never know any of the daily joys of which you and I take pleasure, which we take for granted.

You may be wondering why I turned to Whitman’s words and why I will shortly turn to another poet’s words. Well, I do so because someone once told me: “When language fails you, turn to poetry;”and language has failed me, insofar as its ability to express the deep distress I feel for these youths and their families. So I quote from another American poet, Allen Ginsberg:

“America when will we end the human war?.../…America when will you be angelic?.../…America the plum blossoms are falling.”

Ask yourselves those very questions as I leave you with one final image and a poem. America, when will we end the human war? Before I leave you with this poem by Adam Zagajewski, I would like you to envision a monument, erected at Dachau, Germany. Inscribed on stone in five languages are the words “Never Again.” Let those two words be our promise to these young people and let us resolve to ourselves: Nie Mehr!

Try To Praise The Mutilated World

Try to praise the mutilated world.

Remember June’s long days,

and wild strawberries, drops of wine, the dew.

The nettles that methodically overgrow

the abandoned homesteads of exiles.

You must praise the mutilated world.

You watched the stylish yachts and ships;

one of them had a long trip ahead of it, while salty oblivion awaited others.

You’ve seen the refugees heading nowhere, you’ve heard the executioners sing joyfully. You should praise the mutilated world.

Remember the moments when we were together in a white room and the curtain fluttered.

Return in thought to the concert where music flared.

You gathered acorns in the park in autumn and leaves eddied over the earth’s scars. Praise the mutilated world

and the grey feather a thrush lost,

and the gentle light that strays and vanishes

and returns.

Adam Zagajewski (Translated from the Polish by Clare Cavanaugh)

Last night: Standing on Mr. Jefferson's steps, remembering our LGBT children who have taken their own lives

Last night, I stood with friends and a few hundred people in the autumn chill with candles next to the statute of Thomas Jefferson on the steps of the Rotunda at the University of Virginia. We stood at a place built as a monument to all forms of freedom, including freedom from fear and hatred.

We were in the right place last night.

We listened to heart-wrenching stories of so many young people who recently took their own lives because they were bullied for being gay or thought to be gay. One after another, UVA students came to the microphone and told stories that cry out to be heard:

The story of Tyler Clementi, who jumped off the George Washington Bridge after his roomate secretly videoed him having relations with a man. He was 19 years old.

The story of Billy Lucas, who was bullied on Facebook. He was 15 years old.

The story of Asher Brown who was relentlessly picked on. He shot himself in his family's kitchen. He was 13 years old.

Our own Sean Bugg, one of our Canterbury students, talked of how he had been physically attacked on the street near our church recently. He read poetry, and he implored us to do better, to honor human life, all human life.

I saw tears last night.

I also heard determination to say enough, to end the bullying, to stand up to hate and fear-mongering, to work for a gentler world. I didn't hear an ounce of politics.

One of the speakers asked "Where are the churches marching?"

Some of the churches were there marching. A group of Charlottesville clergy stood together on the steps and we each introduced ourselves. There weren't many of us, and I wish more had come, but there were enough.

I read a brief statement on behalf of our gathering of clergy:

"We are united tonight in showing our support for our children, our friends, brothers, sisters, and parents who are lesbian/gay/transgendered.

We are here to listen, to shed our tears, and to seek forgiveness for falling short of creating a kinder compassionate world where no one feels alone, or abandoned or ostracized. We ask forgiveness for the bigotry created or condoned by our religious institutions.

Tonight we stand with you with open hearts, and pledge to do better, to work for a world where no one feels they have to take their own life, as God gives us the strength."

Photos by the Rev. Peter Carey

Please join us for a vigil Wednesday to remember young people who have taken their lives

Please let me invite you to join us Wednesday at 7 pm on the north steps of the Rotunda at the University of Virginia where students will be leading a candlelight vigil.

We will gather to remember young people who have recently committed suicide stemming from being bullied for being gay or appearing to be gay. Whatever your theological stance on sexuality issues, I hope you can join us in calling for an end to bullying, to reach out with kindness and love, and to remember our young people whose lives were cut short.

A number of Charlottesville religious leaders, including myself, will be there.

Meanwhile, this statement was released Monday, signed by the national and international leaders of many faith communities, including our own Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori. Please take a few moments to read, and join us Wednesday on the steps or in your prayers.

CLERGY AGAINST BULLYING
CALL FOR ACTION AND TIME OF HEALING
IN WAKE OF GAY TEEN SUICIDES AND ANTI-GAY VIOLENCE

For Immediate Release: October 18, 2010

Today, as leaders of Christian communions and national networks, we speak with heavy hearts because of the bullying, suicides and hate crimes that have shocked this country and called all faith communities into accountability for our words or our silence. We speak with hopeful hearts, believing that change and healing are possible, and call on our colleagues in the Church Universal to join us in working to end the violence and hatred against our lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender brothers and sisters.

In the past seven weeks, six young and promising teenagers took their own lives. Some were just entering high school; one had just enrolled in college. Five were boys; one, a girl becoming a young woman. These are only the deaths for which there has been a public accounting. New reports of other suicides continue to haunt us daily from around the country.

They were of varying faiths and races and came from different regions of the nation.

The one thing these young men and women had in common was that they were perceived to be gay or lesbian.

Each in their own way faced bullying and harassment or struggled with messages of religion and culture that made them fear the consequences of being who they were.

In the past two weeks, cities like New York have seen major escalations in anti-gay violence. Two young men attacked patrons of the Stonewall Inn, legendary birth place of the LGBT rights movement in the United States, locking them in the restroom and beating them while hurling anti-gay epithets. Men on a Chelsea street, saying goodnight after an evening out, were attacked by a group of teens and young adults, again hurling anti-gay slogans and hurting one person badly enough to require emergency treatment. And nine young men in the Bronx went on a two-day rampage beating, burning, torturing and sodomizing two teenage boys and their gay male adult friend for allegedly having a sexual relationship. "It's nothing personal," one of the now arrested said. "You just broke the rules."

What are the "rules" of human engagement and interaction that we, as people of faith, want to teach our congregants, children and adults alike, to live by?

Many have responded from within and beyond the faith community offering comfort and support to the families and friends of Billy Lucas, Seth Walsh, Asher Brown, Tyler Clementi, Raymond Chase and Aiyisha Hasan. Our hearts, too, are broken by the too soon losses of these young and promising lives, and we join our voices to those who have sought to speak words of comfort and healing.

Many others, however, have responded by adding insult to injury, citing social myths and long-held prejudices that only fuel division, hatred and violence – and sometimes even death.

We, as leaders of faith, write today to say we must hold ourselves accountable, and we must hold our colleagues in the ministry, accountable for the times, whether by our silence or our proclamations, our inaction or our action, we have fueled the kinds of beliefs that make it possible for people to justify violence in the name of faith. Condemning and judging people because of their sexual orientation or gender identity can have deadly consequences, both for the victims of hate crimes and those who commit them.

There is no excuse for inspiring or condoning violence against any of our human family. We may not all agree on what the Bible says or doesn't say about sexuality, including homosexuality, but this we do agree on: The Bible says, "God is love, and those who abide in love abide in God and God in them." Abiding in love – together – is the rule we must all preach, teach, and seek to live by.

People of faith must realize that if teens feel they will be judged by their church, rejected by their families and bullied by their peers, they may have nowhere to turn.

Too many things go unspoken in our communities. It's time to talk openly and honestly about the diversity of God's creation and the gift of various sexual orientations and gender identities – and to do that in a way that makes it safe for people to disagree and still abide in love.

It's time to talk openly and honestly about the use and misuse of power and authority by those we entrust with our spiritual well-being. It's time to make it safe for our clergy colleagues who are struggling to live what they preach, to get the help and support we all sometimes need.

The young people who took their lives a few weeks ago died because the voices of people who believe in the love of God for all the people of God were faint and few in the face of those who did the bullying, harassing and condemning. Today we write to say we will never again be silent about the value of each and every life.

To that end, we pledge to urge our churches, our individual parishes or offices, our schools and religious establishments to create safe space for each and every child of God, without regard to sexual orientation or gender identity. And we ask you to join us in that pledge.

Today, we personally pledge to be LGBT and straight people of faith standing together for the shared values of decency and civility, compassion and care in all interactions. We ask you, our colleagues, to join us in this pledge.

We want our children and the children of the communities we serve to grow up knowing that God loves all of us and that without exception, bullying and harassment, making fun of someone for perceived differences, and taunting and harming others is wrong. The Golden Rule is still the rule we want to live by.

We pray today that you will join us in being the faces of a faith that preaches and demonstrates God's universal acceptance and offers to one and all safe space to live, to learn, and to love and be loved.

In faith and solidarity,

HEADS OF COMMUNIONS
The Rev. Michael Kinnamon, General Secretary of the National Council of Churches
The Rev. Geoffrey Black, United Church of Christ General Minister and President
Elder Cynthia J. Bolbach, Moderator, 219th General Assembly, Presbyterian Church (USA)
The Most Reverend Katharine Jefferts Schori, Presiding Bishop and Primate, The Episcopal Church
The Rev. Gradye Parsons, Stated Clerk, 219th General Assembly, Presbyterian Church (USA)
The Rev. Bruce Reyes-Chow, Moderator, 218th General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church (USA)
The Rev. Wesley Granberg-Michaelson, General Secretary, Reformed Church in America
The Rev. Peter Morales, President, Unitarian Universalist Association
Bishop Yvette Flunder, Presiding Bishop of The Fellowship
The Rev. Elder Nancy Wilson, Moderator of Metropolitan Community Churches
Bishop Tonyia M. Rawls, Vice President of the National Board and Regional Prelate, Unity Fellowship Church
Archbishop Carl Bean, Founder and Presiding Prelate, Unity Fellowship Church Movement
Carol Blythe, Alliance of Baptists President
Paula Clayton Dempsey, Minister for Partnership Relations, Alliance of Baptists

NATIONAL FAITH STAFF OF LGBT ADVOCACY ORGANIZATIONS
The Rev. Harry Knox, Director of Religion and Faith Program, Human Rights Campaign Foundation
The Rev. Rebecca Voelkel, Director of Institute for Welcoming Resources, National Gay & Lesbian Task Force
Dr. Sylvia Rhue, Director of Religious Affairs, National Black Justice Coalition
Ann Craig, Director of Religion, Faith and Values, Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation (GLAAD)

NATIONAL STAFF OF FAITH BASED ORGANIZATIONS
The Rev. Michael Schuenemeyer, Executive Director of UCAN, Inc., United Church of Christ
The Rev. Robert Chase, Founding Director, Intersections International
Macky Alston, Director, Auburn Media, Auburn Theological Seminary
The Rev. Mark Hostetter, Chair of the Board, Auburn Seminary
Sung Park, Program Director, Believe Out Loud
The Rev. Dr. C. Welton Gaddy, President of The Interfaith Alliance
The Reverend Debra W. Haffner, Executive Director, Religious Institute
Sister Jeannine Gramick, SL, Executive Coordinator, National Coalition of American Nuns (NCAN)
The Rev. Neal Christie, Assistant General Secretary of the United Methodist Board of Church & Society
The Rev. Cynthia Abrams , Program Director, General Board of Church and Society, United Methodist Church ,
Linda Bales Todd, Director, General Board of Church and Society of the United Methodist Church
The Rev. Dr. Cindi Love, Executive Director, Soulforce, Inc.

NATIONAL STAFF OF LGBT DENONMINATIONAL GROUPS
Emily Eastwood, Executive Director, Lutherans Concerned/North America
Lisa Larges, Minister Coordinator, That All May Freely Serve, Presbyterian
Dr. Michael Adee, Executive Director, More Light Presbyterians
Troy Plummer, Reconciling Ministries Network, United Methodist
Marilyn Paarlberg, National Coordinator, Room for All, Reformed Church in America
Rev. Thomas C. Goodhart, Co-president, Room for All, Reformed Church in America
Phil Attey, Acting Executive Director - Catholics for Equality
George W. Cole, Senior Vice President, Affirmation: Gay and Lesbian Mormons
David Melson, President, Affirmation: Gay and Lesbian Mormons
Dr. Joseph Palacios, Board Member, Catholics for Equality
Phil Attey, Executive Director, Catholics for Equality
Yolanda Elliott, President, Seventh-day Adventist Kinship International
Pastor Dave Ferguson, Church Relations Director, Adventist Kinship International
Rev. Marvin M. Ellison, Ph.D., Co-Convener, Religious Coalition Against Discrimination, Maine
Anne Underwood, Catholics for Equality
Max Niedzwiecki, Ph.D., Executive Director, Integrity USA

THEOLOGICANS AND ACADEMIC LEADERS
Dr. Michael Eric Dyson, Professor of Sociology at Georgetown University.
Mary E. Hunt & Diana Neu, Women's Alliance for Theology, Ethics and Ritual (WATER)

No more outcasts

Today's sermon begins with the tragedy touched on in this space the last few days, the suicide of a young gay student in New Jersey. I pray we can find ourselves in a place of hope. The gospel lesson today is particularly apt: Luke 17:11-19.

* * *

I have a difficult, painful topic I want to talk with you about today. This is not a joyful topic, and I apologize to you if this sermon causes you pain.

Many of us this week were moved to tears by the story of Tyler Clementi, a freshman at Rutgers University in New Jersey. His roommate had surreptitiously videoed him while having relations with another man, and then posted it on the Internet with a few choice gay-bashing words.

What happened next is just tragic. Tyler jumped off the George Washington Bridge to his death.

We don’t know what went through Tyler’s mind, but he must have felt very alone, very shamed, an outcast in this world. We wish Tyler had felt differently. But he didn’t.

Let’s be clear about something: The world creates outcasts, not God. Politics creates outcasts, not God. Prejudice and ignorance creates outcasts, not God. Sadly, religion creates outcasts, not God.

Sometimes being an outcast has nothing to do with status from material wealth.
Sometimes being an outcast comes from being in the wrong tribe, or the wrong clique, or the wrong race, or the wrong religion, or the wrong gender, or the wrong sexual orientation – or just plain looking wrong. The world creates many wrong places to be.

It can be so very hard to be young and different than your peers when you know you just don’t fit in.

There was a news report the other day about a high school in Ohio that has had four suicides by students who were bullied. One was bullied because he liked to wear pink. Another was bullied because she had a Serbian accent.

We need to say enough. No more of this. God wants better than this. We need to do better than this for our children.

I think it incumbent upon us in the Church to stand with those who are outcasts or hurting or shunned or bullied, because I believe to the bottom of my bones that Jesus is weeping with them.

There are times when all I have are tears. There are times when I do not know what to say.

There are times when I am listening to someone who is very ill, or has experienced a tragedy or a loss, and I just don’t know what to say.

Sometimes the best I can manage is silence. I pray that my silence will be enough.

I have no words to explain why some people get sick while others get well, or why some people are hurt or bullied, and others seem to glide through life unhurt.
On one level, this healing business perplexes me. Life is not fair, life is ambiguous, life can be cruel, but none of that that is an explanation for anything.

In our parish, we’ve witnessed quite a bit of heartbreak lately. Two long-time members, Bill Lassetter and Sally Kauzlarich, both died in the last week after difficult illnesses.

We’ve had 21 funerals this year in the parish – that is an average one every other week. We had a service for Sally yesterday and we will have a service for Bill next week. That is just too many.

Sometimes there are miracles. And sometimes there aren’t. Why, I don’t know. I don’t have all the answers.

That question is squarely in front of us in today’s gospel lesson. We meet ten lepers who are healed, who get a miracle. Why should they be healed and others not?

Outwardly, the story is quite simple: Jesus tells them to go visit a priest and they will be healed. The lepers go and are healed, and nine of the ten go on their way.
But one of the lepers, a Samaritan, returns to thank Jesus; and Jesus tells him “faith has made him well.”

This is a shocking story on many levels.

Lepers are outcasts, and in the time of Jesus, lepers were required to live outside the gates of the city. They look awful, and they live in a filthy trash heap.

They are supposed to shout warnings to healthy people to stay away, but this group of lepers breaks all the rules. They cry out to Jesus asking him to join them.
And so he does.

As if that wasn’t stunning enough, one of lepers is a Samaritan. In the cast system of the ancient Jewish world, Samaritans are the lowest of the low, the untouchables, the dirtiest of the dirty people.

So here we have someone who is both a leper and a Samaritan – an outcast among the outcasts – who is healed by Jesus, and then he returns to thank Jesus.
Everyone else disappears, but it is the lowest of the low who comes back with the gift of thanks.

It is an outcast who outwardly has nothing to be thankful for, nothing to be faithful about, who has been dumped upon his entire life – it is this untouchable Samaritan leper who gives thanks.

And Jesus honors this outcast.

Jesus tells the Samaritan something extraordinary – that it is his offering of thanks that has made him well and set him free.

Healing is not a reward, healing is not earned by following the rules. Rather, healing – grace – comes as a free gift from God alone.

Please notice something really important: Jesus has just re-defined the very definition of faith. It is not adherence to a set of precepts or dogmas, or a mental exercise of intellectual understanding.

Rather, faith is defined as gratitude. Simple gratitude. Faith is about giving thanks.
The outcast has something important to teach us with his thanks. By giving thanks the Samaritan is set free to live, and to live with joy.

And that raises a few questions for me, and I hope for you.

What if we were use the word “thanks” instead of the word “faith”? What would that sound like to you?

Try substituting the word every time you hear it, see how it sounds.

Instead of saying “I have faith in God,” what if you said, “I give thanks to God”?

Instead of saying we belong to a “faith community,” what if we said we belong to a “thanks community”?

Instead of saying, “I don’t have enough faith,” what if you said “I don’t have enough thanks”?

What would change for you by saying that? By living that?

And ask yourself today: For what do you give thanks?

What brings you joy in your life? Give thanks for that. What makes you laugh? Give thanks for that. Who supports and upholds you especially in your worst moments? Give thanks to them.

Give thanks and you will be this close to God.

And those who give you support, and make you laugh, see in them the face of Christ. They are this close to God. Show your thanks to them and you are showing thanks to God.

Or how about this – instead of using the shopworn churchy word “stewardship,” what if we substituted the word “gratitude” for that? Instead of calling it the annual “stewardship campaign,” what if we said we are having a “gratitude campaign” this season?

What would it look like if we saw our giving as a tangible way of thanking God for the life we have and the abundance we enjoy?

What if our giving came not out of obligation or guilt, but out of joy and delight? How much would you give if your giving brings you joy? How much joy would you like to spread around?

And who needs your joy? Who are the outcasts near you who could use some of that? Can we find the Tyler Clementis in this world, show them our love, and give them our thanks for being who they are?

What would happen if we bring a little hope and healing – and a little joy – to those whose lives are linked with ours? What might change for them and for us when we do that?

Let me put it squarely. I believe we can be the hands and feet of Christ Jesus in our world, and it can begin to do that by giving thanks.

Maybe I’ve asked the wrong question about why some are healed, and some are not, in this world.

These stories of Jesus healing people are really meant to give us a window into the limitless love of God for all of us in this world and in the next.

What if we hear in these stories of Jesus healing the sick and outcasts the ultimate expression of the nature of God? What if see in Jesus the embodiment of a God who will find the lost sheep, who will be with us no matter the pain, and who will ultimately bring us healing either in this world or in the next.

Maybe then we might hear in these stories of healing lepers and outcasts as expressions of what God wants for all of us, for all of creation.

And then, can we experience healing and gratitude as the very essence of faith and salvation? What would our lives become of we live that knowing the truth of that?
How would we be set free to live here in this world with wonder, with love, and with joy?

May our thanks make us well. Amen.

* * *

My friend Carol Anne sent this link the other day to an essay "Memoirs of a Bullied Kid." The author talks about bullying from first hand experience and what each of us can do about it. This is a difficult post to read, but please read it if you get a chance. You can find it by clicking HERE.

Choosing kindness and a vigil for Tyler Clementi and other gay students who have committed suicide

I hope by now you have heard the story of Tyler Clementi, an 18-year-old freshman at Rutgers University in New Jersey who committed suicide by jumping off the George Washington Bridge. His roommate had secretly videotaped him having relations with another man in their dorm room, and then broadcast it on the internet.

Tyler Clementi was a talented violinist. His suicide left many across the land in shock and tears. We still live in a society where homophobia is accepted in many quarters, and where young gay and lesbian people often feel isolated and alone. We also live in a society where the internet and social media sites like Facebook have become new weapons of cruelty.

Last night I attended a meeting at the University of Virginia to do something about this. The room was filled mostly with students. They want to hold a vigil in Charlottesville on Oct. 20 to remember Tyler and other young gay/lesbian/transgender people who have committed suicide, and I will keep you posted about the details of the vigil as it unfolds.

At the table where I sat, I heard a great deal of commitment to changing the world where we live. As one student said, the vigil must be about "more than tears." It must be about changing hearts, minds and laws.

Sadly, I also heard about how religious leaders have reinforced homophobic bigotry. I heard from gay students who are afraid to walk into a church for fear of being shunned, scorned or worse.

All that is true. All that can change. All that must change. That's why I went last night.

My friend Barbara Crafton, who is an Episcopal priest from New Jersey, wrote this about Tyler Clementi and sent it to her friends from her "Geranium Farm." I share it with you:

KINDNESS: YOU CAN ALWAYS CHOOSE IT

By Barbara Crafton

Here is Tyler, playing his violin. And here he is, smiling at someone off camera. And here is a picture he probably took of himself, holding his cell phone at arm's length, the way people do on Facebook. That he loved music and was an extremely gifted performer. That he went to orchestra rehearsal the day he died, rehearsal for a concert of which he would not be part -- I guess he had not quite gotten to the point of no return then. That he would reach it later in the day. These are some things that even people who didn't know him, know about him. Plus some other things that were his and his alone to share, and were none of our business until he was ready to share them.

There is his ashen father, standing behind the screen door of their house, an haggard older version of Tyler himself. And there is the family's quiet message to the world: "Tyler was a fine young man, and a distinguished musician. The family is heartbroken beyond words. They respectfully request that they be given time to grieve."

Someone opened a memorial page for Tyler on Facebook and more than 124,000 people have "liked" it, which is what you do on Facebook if you want to signal approval of something you see there. Someone else has opened one about the two other students whose cruel prank began the sorry chain of events leading to his suicide last week. Many of those who have posted comments there are young, and some of their comments about the pair are intemperate. So are a couple of posts by people old enough to know better.

It's too easy to press "send" nowadays. Dash something off in the heat of the moment, press a key and it's out there forever. You can never take it back. People you don't know may see it. Your boss may see it, or your next boss, or your fiancee's grandma. This may happen years from now, long after you've forgotten all about whatever it was that caused you to fire a string of epithets into the ether. It's so easy and so fast -- much easier and faster than stopping to consider what is likely to happen as a result of it. We always thought the world would be a gentler place if we could just all communicate better. Now I am not so sure -- we can communicate instantly in several ways, with more waiting in the wings, and all it seems to have gotten us is new ways in which to misunderstand and bully one another.

No, of course that's not all. There is much about it that's good. eLife is real life, too, and virtual community is community -- not the same kind as face-to-face, but not nothing, either. If you're reading this, you're part of a virtual community. All forms of human interaction carry the potential for evil. Cruelty can speak any language.

But so can love. Infinitely elastic and infinitely responsive to its surroundings, whatever they are, love can find its way through the darkest places hate can devise. It shows up uninvited and gets quickly and quietly to work, stirring in the honey of its presence teaspoon by teaspoon, patient and persistent. It cannot undo evil, but it sets up housekeeping right there on evil's front porch, and it refuses to be shooed away. In the end, evil is no match for the sweet stubbornness of love.
+
Everyone at the Geranium Farm sends deepest sympathy to the family of Tyler Clementi, with prayers that this tragic event will help us all remember always, always to choose kindness.

Meeting tonight at UVA to discuss recent suicides by young gay people

I am passing along to you information about an important meeting tonight at 7:30 pm at the University of Virginia to talk about the recent spate of suicides by young gay people at several schools across the country. All of these are heart-breaking. The meeting will be in the Ballroom at Newcomb Hall. I plan to be there.

Here is more information from Rachel Farr, one of the organizers:

Many of you have recently heard about the growing number of LGBTQ youth who have taken their own lives as a result of ongoing and severe victimization and bullying. The stories of Seth Walsh, Billy Lucas, Asher Brown, and Tyler Clementi, in photo above, (among others, see below) are tragic and heartbreaking. These suicides represent a crisis that we can prevent in our community.

[Here are links to information about each of these incidents]:

Seth
Billy
Asher
Tyler

This coming Thurs, Oct 7, at 7:30pm, please join the discussion about how to help. If you or groups you are involved with are discussing how to help prevent bullying and youth suicide and want to bring about change in our community, join us in this community-wide effort.

Many of us are currently working to organize a vigil to honor the lives lost. We are making a commitment to end the victimization of LGBTQ youth and to reaffirm the importance of treating others with dignity and respect. We want your ideas, so we welcome and encourage everyone to attend this informational meeting on Thurs to plan the vigil.

The meeting will be in the Ballroom on the 3rd floor of Newcomb Hall on the UVA campus. There is inexpensive parking in the UVA bookstore parking garage (right next to Newcomb).

Please forward this announcement widely and invite everyone you know. We hope to reach many in our community at UVA and beyond, including teens, parents, teachers, school administrators, and others who work directly with youth.

Thank you and please let me know if you have questions. Let's create change,

Rachel Farr
rachel.farr@gmail.com