Pulling into Ellendale presented a very ominous feeling. I had already begun to get butterflies while driving on the country highways surrounding the town. Although much further north, the area reminded me of where I grew up. The day before our stop at the school, we arrived in the town of 1500.

On arrival in Ellendale, we had scheduled a community outreach event at the only location we could find to host it–the steakhouse next to our motel. Being one of the vegans on the trip, this was a very comical situation for me. After meeting a few local community members and the director of the county emergency services, who was very worried for our safety while in town, we decided to walk to the university to get an idea of what the next day would look like.

My hometown of Drexel, MO is somewhere that I find it very hard to visit. Often people I knew in high school will avoid me if I see them there, and make it a point not to talk to me. I, being one of the few out gay people from Drexel, have a somewhat infamous reputation in the town. Often times I will hear through the grapevine negative things about myself from people I have never met. This is relevant because the city of Ellendale is nearly a mirror image of Drexel. Trinity Bible College is located in the exact same spot as the school in which I spent the majority of my young life.

We arrived on foot to see how the school would be set up. We were given a small fenced area on the edge of campus which was our “free speech zone.” All of the streets surrounding us were barricaded off from traffic.

The next day we readied ourselves for the campus visit. Several students from the University of South Dakota involved with the reconciling campus ministry Coffee Loft had knitted nine prayer shawls, one for each of the nine colors of the original pride flag, and to represent the nine gifts of the Spirit. We planned to present these to the University. I was entrusted with the gift of prophecy.

We vigiled in silence for most of the morning. We held hands. Some of us prayed. Some of us thought. Some of us hoped. We had been greeted by the Vice President in the morning, who had told us that the students had neither been told to talk to us, nor to ignore us–that it was of their own volition if they wished to enter into dialogue with us. We found out the next day through the local newspaper that this was not the case. The students had been told not to leave campus. The VP also stood in between the students and the Equality Riders throughout most of the vigil, making it very awkward for any student who did want to talk to us.

After we held a short ceremony blessing each one of the shawls, we handed them to two students from USD and one of our Equality Riders. These three women carried the shawls onto campus, intending to place them at the foot of the chapel cross and to continue to pray. Shortly after stepping onto campus, they were met with administration and law enforcement who took them away, but not before they could lay the shawls out, forming a rainbow on the lawn of the Trinity Bible College campus.

We stayed in vigil formation long after our friends were arrested. Watching this happen, I had a flood of emotions rush through me. I realized that I felt as if I were back in Drexel. I grew up in this same atmosphere, around similar people, in a town that was very much the same as Ellendale. On that vigil line, I was opening myself up, I was presenting myself honestly and fully, to tell them that I was human, deserving of respect and love. And I was met with a fence, a physical barrier between us. I took all of this into myself, and wept. I cried for the majority of the time that we remained in the vigil line.

We left campus and marched to the library, where we presented the librarian with a gift of books on various social justice and queer issues. I hope that the kids in that town who need those books find them, because I know I was one of them, and I have no doubt that had my brother and sister not supported me while coming out, one of those books could have saved my life.

I know this blog is getting exceptionally long, but I cannot end it without mentioning the Red Rooster coffeehouse in Aberdeen, SD. I only wish I had a haven like that while growing up. We held a community outreach event at the Red Rooster after our school visit. It has been one of the few stops on this trip in which I have felt like I could be myself completely. It is truly a gift that places like that are available in a climate so hostile to anyone who is different than the majority.

Before getting on a cross-country bus tour with 26 other people whose homes are hotel rooms in the vast urban sprawl that surrounds cities as varied as Minneapolis and Malibu, my partner and I lived with about 80 other people in a little mountain village called Holden in the North Cascades. Though the two experiences both offer deep learning about what it means to be in community, there are some major differences. Holden, for example, being situated literally in the middle of a wilderness area, is a whole lot quieter. There are no phones there, no television networks or ring tones. At night, after a full day of work at the hydroelectric plant or the compost piles or the kitchen, people return to their rooms in huge old chalets and the valley hushes. Occasionally, as part of our daily communal worship, we would walk to the creek that wound through ‘town’ and listen for the word of the Divine in the sound of the water going over rocks. Even our songs and shouts of greeting were muffled by the endless silence of mountains standing all around us.

Noise has been one of the hardest things for Allison and me as we’ve moved from Holden to the ‘outside world.’ Semis passing on the highway, twelve different phone conversations when we step into a restaurant, sirens of all kinds that always make us feel as if we need to jump up and report for fire brigade duty, which is the only explanation for sounds as piercing and horrible at Holden.

Maybe that’s why this morning at Yellowstone Baptist College was so powerful for me. Our vigil the day before had been difficult––the school’s refusal to engage in dialogue, weather, the occasional hostile passerby. Yesterday had been raw and challenging, a clear picture of what we’re up against as activists when so much of the Christian community isn’t ready to accept the reality that LGBT people have been created good. Today, we wanted to come to campus with the intention of honoring what was beautiful about our time there. We decided on a shorter vigil and we decided on silence. We wanted to reaffirm our loving intentions for YBC and its students in a way that would open a space for the Spirit to continue her work. In silence, in single file, we walked from the bus to the gates of the school. In silence, we faced the school and opened our hearts to our hopes for change.

As I prayed for guidance about what could move YBC and the Equality Ride out of our present impasse, I thought of Jesus and the clarity he brought in situtations where church doctrine was crowding out God’s good intentions for humankind. I thought of Earth, how she teaches that it is our interrelatedness that makes us whole. In silence, the two teachers brought me to a place of peace and as I imagined the hearts of my fellow riders filling the way mine was, I was grateful. Grateful for truthspeaking in bad weather. Grateful for quiet. Grateful for schools where LGBT students will someday see their hopes for change fulfilled.

On Thursday, April 19th, the Westbound 2007 Soulforce Equality Ride visited the smallest school on its itinerary, Yellowstone Baptist College. YBC holds a student population of approximately 50 students and is affiliated with the Montana Southern Baptists. As one might imagine, it was an interesting day in Billings, with half as many Equality Riders as students, driving wind and rain, and a parade of mixed emotions from community members and students.

In keeping with the school’s ecumenical focus, stop organizer Emil Pohlig decided to send a scripture-focused message to the YBC community. Each Rider stood along the school’s driveway holding a lily and a scripture reference of their choice. We began our vigil at approximately 10:00 AM. It was 35 degrees, with rain and winds at 28 miles per hour to the northwest.

We stood there until 1 PM.

Yellowstone Baptist College President William Phillips made this statement on Wednesday, before our arrival: ‘”The students at Yellowstone Baptist College are adults who believe in our mission and agree to uphold our stated policies. Our policy affirms the biblical standard that human sexuality is God’s gift to human beings and is to be expressed only within marriage between one man and one woman. We do not discriminate–all sexual intimacy outside of marriage is wrong.”

I agree that human sexuality is a gift given by God. And since all people are made in the image of God, every person’s sexuality is a gift from God. Are God’s lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender children not as gifted? Are we less than? No, we are not. I take my inspiration from Romans 12:4-7. “A body is made up of many parts, and each of them has its own use. That’s how it is with us. There are many of us, but we each are part of the body of Christ, as well as part of one another. God has given each of us different gifts to use. If we can prophesy, we should do so according to the amount of faith that we have. If we can serve others, we should serve. If we can teach, we should teach. If we can encourage others, we should encourage them. If we can give, we should be generous. If we are leaders, we should do our best. If we are good to others, we should do it cheerfully.”

I have great faith that every part of me was fearfully and wonderfully made by God. I have great faith that every part of me, and every action I take within a truly loving relationship, is affirmed and looked upon with honor by God. My faith is not measured by an allegorical Creation story. It is not measured by social constructs. It is not measured by misinformed interpretations of Greek, Hebrew and Aramaic biblical texts. It is measured between myself and my God.

When President Phillips came to the gates of the school, welcomed us to Montana and let us know how sorry he was that we had to stand in the cold and rain before going back inside, my heart broke.

We concluded the vigil by delivering our scripture verses and lilies to the steps of the chapel, then left the unwelcoming doorstep of Yellowstone Baptist College for our bus, which had no heat due to a long-broken valve. A deputy from the local sheriff’s department boarded the bus and informed a group of wet, cold but determined Equality Riders that the act of leaving fifty-two lilies on campus was considered trespassing, and if it was done again, we would be arrested.

Those could have been fifty-two lilies presented to the students of YBC as a gesture of peace and reconciliation. Instead, they represent for me the fifty-two lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender youth who take their own lives every thirteen days that people are barred from having this conversation. They represent fifty-two children who will never grow up. They represent fifty-two families ripped apart by hate. They represent fifty-two people who stand outside the gates of their communities and churches, as we stood outside the gates of Yellowstone Baptist College.

In light of the horrific tragedy at Virginia Tech on Monday, we made the decision not to return to our vigil line at the Brigham Young University-Idaho campus. Instead, we chose to use that time to reflect, mourn, and re-focus. I, personally, spent a few hours on Monday night staring at the television screen, which was probably more time in front of that contraption than I have spent collectively on the ride thus far. The scenes of students being carried out of Norris Hall by police officers, bleeding from multiple gunshot wounds, put a feeling in my stomach that I would compare to burning acid. I thought hard, and remembered the faces of the many friends that I have made on this trip… college students, just like the ones on the TV screen. I came to the conclusion that it is not even possible for me to imagine what this tragedy is like to the students on the campus, the families of the victims, and to the city as a whole. I won’t even try to imagine. But my thoughts and prayers are with them.

At 12:30 p.m., we gathered on the Big Gay Bus and headed to Nature Park to do some community service. Our projects included trash pick-up, leveling the ground around some trees, and trimming foliage. It was an enjoyable opportunity for us to be outside, in nature, working with the soil.

Afterward we visited another park, Porter Park, to eat some light snacks with students and community members. We had chips and strawberries, candy and cookies, juice and soda. We played ultimate frisbee and had good conversations with BYU-Idaho students and many allies from Rexburg and nearby cities. This blog would not be complete, however, without noting that the police chief, who has been exponentially helpful and kind during our visit to Rexburg, surprised us with fried chicken to feed the whole group. I want to take this opportunity to express appreciation to that man, who showed us a compassion and hospitality that we would have otherwise missed out on completely while in Rexburg. The community of Rexburg owes this man much respect. If not for him, I would have seen little resembling Christ in that town.

Rexburg’s slogan is America’s Family Community, so we held pictures of our families as we stood in a vigil line outside of BYU-Idaho’s campus today. These were great ways to start conversation with the students who came to speak with us.

Several community members joined us. One woman had grown up in Rexburg and came back to participate in the vigil today. She and the Rexburg chief of police realized they had been next door neighbors when she was a child. She also recognized our sole major heckler as a teacher she’d had in 4th and 6th grades.

In the afternoon, eight riders walked onto campus holding their family pictures. There was definitely a hush as they entered. Though riders have been arrested before, this was the first one I’d been able to see in action. I found myself getting a little teary-eyed as one by one, they put their pictures down on the walkway and were led away by BYU-Idaho security.

There seems to be a certain theme running through many of the conversations at the schools that we visit. This is the idea that we all can agree to disagree on the issue of LGBT rights on college campuses. I have been part of so many conversations on these campuses that revolve around the idea that we can get to know one another, find out similarities and talk about our faith and still disagree on whether or not it is a sin to be LGBT. This was definitely the theme of many of the conversations I had at Northwest Nazarene University in Nampa, Idaho.

The day started with a quick briefing and breakfast with our hosts. My host’s name was Trish and she was great. We shared similar tastes in music and it was cool to hear of her future plans in the music business. After breakfast she gave me a quick tour of the campus. After the tour we moved back to the Brandt Center and watched “In God’s Image,” one of our presentation groups. Mike asked me if I would help out in the question and answer period. I agreed and this is when the theme of “agree to disagree” started. The man who was moderating the Q & A portion asked the question “Is it possible for two people in a relationship to disagree on subjects and still love one another?” My response was “Are you asking if it is okay for someone to love a LGBT person but ‘disagree’ with the fact that they are LGBT?” He responded, “No. I was just wondering if there can be disagreements and love in a relationship. My wife and I have disagreements and we still love each other.” Well obviously I wasn’t going to let him get away with this. “Of course it is possible to have a loving relationship with disagreements,” I responded, “but when it comes to the issue of being LGBT, you cannot love us and not accept all of our being.”

This was the answer I ended up giving two young women at lunch as well as a young man in the afternoon. It was the same answer we as a group gave to the chaplain of the college when he said that we need to agree to disagree on this subject so that we can have dialogue. No, we don’t need to agree to disagree. We need to agree to learn from one another. We need to agree to see each other as full humans. We need to agree to accept and love all of God’s creation regardless of our gender identity or sexual orientation. That’s what we as children of God need to agree to: equality.

In the evening we visited the UCC church in town and had supper. It was so refreshing to be around a group of people who not only said that they welcomed our visit but actually showed us this welcome through true hospitality and support. We were able to fill our bellies, have conversation and play Frisbee in the back. Eventually, some NNU students showed up and we went to the school across the street to play Ultimate Frisbee. Now, I haven’t worked out since Milwaukee but I was still able to keep up with most of them. Most, I say. The kids from NNU were really good at the game and definitely were welcoming of us. We had a great time and were able to connect as people. I must say that during our game of Ultimate Frisbee there was no need to agree to disagree. We needed only to see each other as human beings who are created in the image of God and loved by that God. We needed only to see each other as equal.

Our day at Seattle Pacific University began with a breakfast with our morning hosts. The food was superb, and I’ll take this time to mention that SPU’s food quality was voted #1 in the country by the students.

We proceeded from there to a presentation where Haven and Brian took a look at the creation story and gender. The school must have done a great job publicizing the event, because hundreds of people showed up, and some had to stand in the back due to lack of space. There was a short response from an Old Testament scholar and some Q&A time. One of the administrators, Paula, introduced herself to me, because she’s from Fayetteville, AR, my home city, and we found that we both knew some of the same people.

Over lunch, I had a wonderful conversation with Kim Campbell, the school’s chief judicial officer and director of resident life, for over an hour. A short forum on the lives of Riders was next (packed house again), followed by some free conversation time, where I got to meet some really neat people. The impression that I got from the students (and administration, for that matter) with whom I spoke today was really open and affirming toward LGBT people, which made me curious as to why there were not any official safe spaces or a Gay/Straight Alliance on the campus. The problem seems (in my eyes) to be that the students seem to be a little too apathetic about the issue that there are only a tiny handful of people (a lot of whom happen to be freshmen) who feel safe and loved enough to be openly GLBT. I hope that I was able to inspire people to get active at their school, because they certainly have a population that would be able to support such a movement.

When we stepped off the bus in front of Northwest University in Kirkland, Washington—just a few miles outside Seattle’s city limits—Rebecca, the stop organizer, turned to me and said, “This place has an oppressive feeling to it.” Stopping for a moment to gather my thoughts and feelings, I had to concur. Unlike the other schools who had welcomed us onto their campus, no waiting party stood at the sidewalk to usher us inside their walls. My mind recalled the true sin of Sodom.

Inside the administration building—we consulted a map to locate it—we were met by a few administrators, staff, and students for the “Introduction to the Campus Hosts”. Little pretense of hospitality was offered, minus a minute-long afterthought to send us off to our classroom visits; even the students seemed to think this conversation was unnecessary and unimportant.

We were already spread thinly: half our full strength at Seattle Pacific University for a much longer day, both breakfast and dinner included. Rebecca, Cylest, and I walked with our hosts—Kelly and Dani—into the lion’s den that was Professor Blaine Charette’s New Testament History & Literature course. The day’s topic, planned from the beginning of the semester, was “Paul’s Teaching on Human Sexuality”. Did I miss something? Perhaps it is just semantics, but didn’t Paul have more than one teaching on human sexuality? I felt the entire class was a typo. One would think that any discourse on 1st century sexual ethics might begin with some effort to set the stage.

The class introduction concluded that sexual morality was the only subject with which the gentile world was unfamiliar; this morality—obviously, Charette asserted—was an unchanging, unwavering Jewish morality unmatched by any other. And ever so typically, ancient Jewish morality translates perfectly to a modern-day Christian morality. These are of course the same assumptions that lead the everyday Christian to assume that the Bible—both Old Testament and New—is an inerrant, perfect, and profoundly Christian book. Ironically, the word, Bible, suggests something different in the original language: a collection of books, sifted out from hundreds of others by fallible scholars, from ancient Jewish oral and written traditions and mid-1st century through 4th century Christian oral and written traditions, to be passed through the fire of canonization, translation and retranslation, and interpretation down to the present day. In my opinion, such views are, at least, lazy and irresponsible. At worst, they lead us away from God instead of leading us toward God.

I walked away from class heavy. In forty-five minutes, I had been grouped with liars and murders. I had been called a sinner, for being “homosexual” but more so for being resistant to God’s continuous call to change me. According to Professor Charette, I was unnatural, lustful, and disordered: something he reminded me of more than four times as the class went on. Apparently, it was his Christian duty to tell me this. The entire day was a prayer for me to be something I am not.

My only respite: two conversations and a private prayer of my own. I must thank Dani, Kelly, and Sarah for those conversations. They were beautiful moments of true dialogue where I felt I could be myself, fully, and be listened to and accepted with equal voice. I must also thank God. After Charette’s class and the chapel service—where the Evangelical Christian, who holds in this country the largest voting majority, prayed for the “Persecuted Church”—I felt terrible: voiceless, diminished, dehumanized, and undelivered. I went behind the chapel building, alone, and prayed. And I felt peace again: suddenly I had a human voice that was strong enough to reach my Creator. God answered me with a resolve that carried me through the rest of the day. But those moments were the only time I felt God on this campus.

Ironically, the assumptions that lead us to accept the Bible as inerrant and perfect are the same assumptions that stop us from fully including lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender individuals into our churches and schools. At its base is the assumption that our worldview is shared, unchanging and unwavering, throughout all time and every category we would claim for our own. It is a form of prejudice. And the foundation of it all is fear: fear of our ability to cope with change, fear of having to wrestle with new ideas and situations, fear of losing our Self, fear of being alone, fear of being wrong.

Faith cannot grow in concrete ground. It needs good, tilled earth. So we must wrestle with the earth we are blessed with, to sift it and question it, to tug at its roots and examine them, to prepare its branches for the grafting of new truths and revelations, to water it with thought, and nourish it with fervent study. Uncertainty cannot scare us, and—like Scripture asserts—we must prepared to submit our deepest truths to the ways of God. If we are to become the new creature, transformed, we cannot fear. There is no fear in love; that is the lesson—Northwest University included—must learn.

“I don’t know how to thank you for coming here. My friends and I have been talking about [faith and identity] ever since your presentation this morning, and we are going to keep talking about it.”

“Thank you.”

Hearing myself say “it’s my pleasure” for the umpteenth time in just half an hour, I paused to reflect inwardly on the truth of that sentiment—truly, it is my pleasure to converse with students so genuinely eager to learn, to challenge themselves and others, and to grow in truth as a community.

The responsiveness of the Seattle Pacific University student body, and the strength of the lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender population on campus, has unequivocally confirmed the need for a genuinely safe and affirming space at SPU, where LGBT voices are not merely tolerated, but celebrated. After speaking with administrators who conceded that no policy exists precluding the creation of such a space, with faculty and staff who identified themselves as allies, and with students who expressed an overwhelming desire to continue the conversation about faith and identity, I believe that change is forthcoming.

In his morning presentation, an SPU faculty member described change within the church as “glacial”. The April 11th issue of the school paper certainly had a glacial quality in many of its articles, including a cartoon suggesting that recognition of the worth and dignity of lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender people is equivalent to a failure to think and reason critically (I would argue that just the opposite is true – that recognition of heterosexual privilege is a function of critical thinking of the highest order). Nevertheless, couched between assertions of heterosexual superiority, and shifting the “burden” of equality to the shoulders of those of us who live without it—a classic move in regard to oppression of all kinds—I felt the pulse of a people standing firm in their LGBT and allied identities. These are the people for whom glacial change is unacceptable.

When morality is at stake—recognizing that equality and human dignity are at the heart of morality; when the family is at stake—recognizing that condemnation of LGBT people has undermined and even destroyed families; when safety is at stake—recognizing that Scriptural justification for anti-gay and anti-trans violence is commonplace; when community is at stake—recognizing that sanctioned exclusion of any person on the basis of that person’s identity undermines the strength of the community and opens the door for Othering of many varieties; a swift response is not optional or debatable—it is imperative. I cannot and will not “agree to disagree” on the value of my own life or on the space allotted to me and to the people I love most.

I leave Washington and head toward Idaho inspired by the gratitude and resolve of people who are ready and able to move forward. With a challenging route ahead, the open hearts and minds that we encountered at Seattle Pacific University serve as a motivation for what I know is possible–open dialogue and real change.

In Seattle, we plan to meet on April 11th with Seattle Pacific University and Northwest University, both of whom are located in a city which was ranked 10th for gay cities by Syracuse University. Seattle is surprisingly “more gay” than my hometown Philadelphia which boasts a gayborhood and has GLBT-affirming high schools.

It is surprising that Seattle would even have schools which hold discriminatory policies. In attempting to locate Northwest University’s policy, I came across a document entitled “FAQs On Equality Ride”, which specifies that “sexual intimacy is reserved for heterosexual, monogamous marriage…If a student acknowledges his or her homosexual tendency while at Northwest, he or she will not be asked to leave as long as he or she agrees to engage in ongoing dialogue with our campus ministries staff and live by our Community Life Standards.”

Presumably, a gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender student on Northwest’s campus should live a chaste, closeted life and strive to change their innermost being, the intrinsic aspects of their identity. Although being gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender is not a choice, you should choose differently anyhow. Otherwise, you’ll probably be asked to leave.

Seattle, unlike some of its resident private institutions, does not discriminate. Mayor Nickels supports marriage equality and it is illegal to discriminate in the workplace against sexual orientation or gender identity.

The city council of the city of Seattle welcomed the 2007 Soulforce Equality Ride with an official proclamation today. Seattle’s city council officially recognizes and celebrates Wednesday, April 11, 2007, as Soulforce Equality Ride Day.

Although our identities as gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender people and allies are not affirmed by Seattle Pacific University or Northwest University, we have been more than welcomed by the entire city of Seattle.