Today I was thinking about the profound affect Soulforce has had on my life.  What if the Equality Ride hadn’t come to Calvin College in 2007?  The impact of the 33 Riders who came to my school is so much bigger then this article I found in the Chimes would lead anyone to believe.  In some ways, I think I’m an incredibly different person because of this. I found my voice.  I started speaking up about queer issues.  I was inspired by the Riders boldness and courage to do what I had always been afraid to do.  Then I met a seven Calvin students who wanted to make things better at Calvin.  Somewhere between the Riders and my new friends at Calvin I finally made sense of myself.  I realized I am queer.  It turns out, straight women do not find women attractive (as in date worthy) in addition to finding men attractive.  I started getting involved with activism and there was an interesting switch in the straight to queer friend ratio.  I now have some of my best friends in the world because of the Equality Ride coming to Calvin.  The summer after my final year at Calvin, I was accepted into Q Camp with Soulforce.  I learned a ton about intersectional social justice, it changed my frame work for doing justice. I also met my amazing woman at Q Camp and now we’re dating and I’m in love and ended up here in Kansas City. Aside from Yantezia, I’m also grateful for the other Q Campers who are amazing activist that I can go to for friendship and activism advice.

I knew right away after the bus pulled away from Calvin that I had to go on the Equality Ride.  I wasn’t sure if I would get accepted but I really wanted to go.  Q Camp only made me more aware of that desire to go.  I applied for the 2010 Equality Ride and was accepted!!!  The 2010 Ride changed me in ways I’m still trying to figure out.

Here in Kansas City, I’m working with Equal. It’s super sweet because I get to work with Wick, a 2007 Equality Rider, Yantezia and another cool activist, Yahaira.  We’re training/mentoring queer youth to learn about intersectional justice, direct action and other campaign work.  I’m really excited to take on this leadership roll and help empower young queer activists, grow as a leader, gain friendships.  Although I get homesick sometimes, I’m really happy where I’ve ended up.  I’m making really cool new friends.  I’m enjoying every minute I get with Yantezia.  I am happy and confident as Christian queer woman.  I am happy to be growing as an activist.  Sometimes I wonder who is going through changes like this because of the 2010 Equality Ride and what changes will happen long term and short term because of me? I hope that more people are activist and growing comfortable in there skin and of course, I hope schools change polices to do better but I think more realistically, change happens with individuals.  Who knows.  What I know for sure is I thank God often for the 2007 Equality Ride and how it changed me.

Q Camp

Me with two 2007 riders

Most of the 2010 Equality Riders

You can help make sure that the Equality Ride, Q Camp, and other important Soulforce campaigns continue by donating today.

I’ve formatted our West bus Equality Ride videos for iPod. You can download them using the links below and then all you have to do is add them to your iTunes Library. They’re all ready to go. Thanks to Adam Britt for hosting the files.

University of Notre Dame
Wisconsin Lutheran University
Brigham Young University
Brigham Young University – Idaho

West Bus Photo Slideshow

I will add videos from other stops as soon as they’re available.

Enjoy!

First of all, I apologize for the severe delay in bringing you this video. It was completed while I was still on the ride but a series of unfortunate events delayed the release. Thanks for sticking with us and continuing to be interested in the Equality Ride.

As a note, Soulforce will be co-sponsoring a New York Marriage Ride this summer from July 14-27. You can visit the site for more information. Soulforce also has an important Ex-Gay Survivors conference coming from June 29 – July 1. Many Soulforce participants have experienced the pain caused by so-called ex-gay therapy. Hopefully this conference can be a place to start the healing process for the many people who have been victims of anti-gay rhetoric.

And here our video from BYU-I

How does a journey like the Equality Ride end?

Maybe with a colon introducing a list of things to do: “get your evaluations in, write in everyone’s affirmation book, get in that one last smoker caucus, pack, and say ‘good-byes’.”

Or maybe with a dash that completely disrupts our lives and inputs a thought where no thoughts outside of exegesis and vigils have been since February—a plane trip away from a life on the road and schedules that now seem calm comparatively.

It may end with a period that finalizes one moment in time and introduces the next moment. Yes, I can’t wait to see my friends back home.

It seems that it could end with a question mark. What did I learn from the Equality Ride? Whose hearts were changed? What do I/we do now?

I can see how the journey might end with a semi-colon; let’s continue to be Equality Riders wherever we go.

Maybe the Ride ends with a comma, because this is all a work in progress, and God is still speaking.

An exclamation point seems conclusive enough. WE DID IT!

All of these seem appropriate, but, to me, it seems like, although seeds must be planted, progress simply happens. Fears subside as knowledge is gained. And if we were to look at the big paragraph of our experience and turn it into a quote we would need to end with ellipses. “Equality Riders arrested at Brigham Young University and Patrick Henry…city proclamations in Seattle and New York City honor Equality Riders…Equality Ride 2007 ends…Equality Riders continue on to seek equality everywhere they go…”

Yes, that seems about right. Goodbye for now.

Coming to the end of the road has been quite the experience. It is so nice that our co-directors have given us free time on Saturday and Sunday because we all really needed a break! It has been so nice to meet up with the East Bus and hear about their experiences and to just hang out with them on our days off.

On our second day back in Minneapolis, the West Bus sat in a circle and talked about the experiences we had on the Ride. We talked about what we learned and what we will miss most about the Ride. When it came around to me I really had to think. I ended up explaining to everyone that it will probably take about two months for everything to really hit me. It took about two months on the Ride to figure out how much I missed my friends and family at home. I think it will take about the same amount of time for me to figure out how much I miss my friends and family on the Equality Ride.

We have been through the ups and the downs of two months on the road. We know each other so much better than we could have ever imagined at the beginning of January in Austin. We know each other’s strengths and weaknesses, life stories, and hygiene rituals. Most importantly, I know that each person on this Ride has a deep passion for seeing equality for all people. My family on the Equality Ride has shown me that the fight for justice is not an easy one, but together we can make it happen. I really don’t know what else to say. Call me in two months and I’ll tell you.

It was the final stop of the Equality Ride. For the first time, both buses were going to be visiting a school together. It was almost surreal. Seeing over fifty Equality Riders instead of just twenty-six was amazing. Looking to my left and right, it was great to see two people from the westbound bus. It was beyond a beautiful moment–it was a moment in time that cannot be replaced.

After standing in vigil for over an hour, all the Riders and many community members prepared to step onto campus. It was a beautiful thing to see over eighty people start walking onto campus because they felt the need for this conversation and truly wanted to deliver a message of love, only to be stopped by law enforcement and administration and turned away. Ten Riders kneeled in front of them–this time, half from the West bus and half from the East bus. It was incredible to see the symbol of unity in this message and effort. Many of us were brought to tears.

Many students soon came to engage in conversations with us about how they felt about the topic of “homosexuality.” Some of the students were being friendly, others not quite so. I personally met some students that were very fixed on the thought that we were basically satanic. But I could see how all the Riders were really demonstrating this amazing message of love. It was quite interesting to see how these students were reacting to how loving and polite we were. It was almost as if they didn’t expect us to be courteous.

This stop was really intriguing for me. It challenged me in many ways to know how to express the love I want them to see in me. They recognized this love in us. Although they weren’t returning the same love entirely, they surely noticed that we were seeing beauty and humanity in them. In the end, I feel they noticed the same in us, but were unable to show they noticed it.

Through the conversations that I had with students, I could get a sense of the environment that exists on campus. Hearing what they were taught about homosexuality makes me fear for the LGBT students on campus. But they got the message they really needed when we came. They heard it too.

I stare out a window in Minneapolis, MN – the starting point for this entire journey. In my directors’ apartment, we sit around with computers on our laps and pizza boxes on the floor, frantically moving to bring this trip to a close; filling out evaluations, sending thank you notes and postcards, emailing our schools so that classes are all set when we return. The outward motions move quickly, but I’m not sure the same could be said for the processes in our hearts. I would like to believe that I am not alone in writing that part of me wishes this weren’t coming to a close, that we weren’t wishing each other goodbye, that the weight of realizing that this may be our last time together is almost too much to carry.

I am starting to think about what my mind and heart will have to endure in processing these past two months and not quite sure what will be left when that process is over. At this point all I can say is that I am permanently changed, inspired, and motivated to see to that efforts such as these do not merely fade into the background of my life’s history. I keep trying to find myself when I look in the mirror and then I realize that it is not me who is staring back but rather who I have become. All I have to articulate that experience are these words and this space.

In an effort to begin the processing I look at a map on the wall in disbelief: we’ve traveled half the country, from the plains of Iowa, through the swamps of Mississippi, across the mountains of Georgia, and back up to the trees of Massachusetts. I know right now that I did not bring enough film. We’ve had innumerable conversations, faced police hostility in a number of states, sat in jail for nearly thirty hours, listened to the screams of people who swear we are eternally damned, been embraced with warm arms from communities and churches, and came back to gift bags prepared for us by our fellow Riders from the West bus who were eagerly waiting our arrival. Even if I could begin to illustrate the motions inside my mind, this page would not suffice. I could write until my fingers cramped and it would still feel unfinished. Perhaps that feeling is what will motivate me to continue this work through some other means when I return home.

As I begin sending out last emails to our sponsors and supporters I think about how lucky we’ve been to have so many people who believe in us. Young adults are somewhat discouraged at times when they tell people they have a dream only to receive a pat on the head and some patronizing words of encouragement. But our supporters have sincerely followed our journey, sent us emails and words of perseverance, and continue to keep the glow of the flames burning. To them I would like to say thank you – you are much of what has sustained us when we thought we wouldn’t make it and still retain sanity throughout this journey.

When I think of my Riders, I start feeling a space widening in my chest realizing that we won’t be sharing a bed together, that dance parties on the bus are over, and that your voices won’t be singing with mine. I am listening to your laughs one room over and the sound of your footsteps shuffling down the hall. I shudder at the approach of our departure creeping in with the breeze as I look out this window, singing in my head a favorite Rolling Stones song, “Til the next time we say goodbye, I’ll be thinking of you…”

Looking back on our last stop, it just doesn’t seem real to me. We all walked onto campus together, which was an Equality Ride first. I stayed back a little bit to see everyone walk on. It was humbling and amazing that almost eighty people felt so compelled to walk onto campus for equality at the same time. It was truly a beautiful sight.

The Equality Ride has left me with so many memories–hard memories that kept me focused throughout the Ride, moments that aren’t so easy to look back on with a smile–and beautiful memories. There is beauty in watching my fellow Riders lay out shawls in the colors of the pride flag. There is beauty in their act of giving up autonomy in being arrested for that. There is beauty in thirty people gathered around a Rider for discussion. Even though there have been many hard moments, for me the Ride was filled with beauty.

We went around in a circle before the East Bus rejoined us with a list of questions that we could choose to answer, or not answer as we felt led to do. One question I had fun answering was this: “What moment will you take with you into senility?” My answer was Rebecca Buck’s shopping bags, and our bus driver Travis’s random bursts into song while we were all sleeping. His singing is something that always lightened my heart when things got too serious.

Another question was this: “What have you learned about yourself?” I learned so many things about myself on the Ride, I couldn’t really begin to list all of them, but the most important thing I learned about myself is that I have a great capacity to be serious, to be intense, and that I can do a lot of good things with that.

I also learned that I am truly a sixteen-year-old boy at heart (bio-chemically and spiritually). I’m still really awkward around people, and enjoy dinosaurs. I made “Kourt Forts” by draping a blanket over the seats on the bus to create a tent. I did dinosaur dances, and I always jumped at the first mention of food.

Even though I am a sixteen-year-old boy, I know that I have a big space in my heart to learn about love in a way that many people never get to experience. I get to take the lessons of non-violence that I have learned on the Equality Ride and put them into practice in my life toward my family, friends, and people I have yet to meet.

To sum up, I am thankful for the opportunity the Equality Ride afforded me, and I will forever be in its debt. Would I do it again? In a heartbeat. There’s so much work to be done.

Tuesday morning began just before nine o’clock. The bus pulled up to Cornerstone University, and we got off and headed toward the chapel, where the administration planned to debrief regarding our visit. Given that many Riders are of a Christian faith, and we had just spent two days conversing with Cornerstone students, it seemed appropriate for us to worship with our new friends, and also it made sense to be involved in a conversation about us. Several schools in the past had invited us to be a part of the debriefing, and though Cornerstone hadn’t officially invited us, the event was open to the public, so we showed up, many of us with our bibles, and sat among the students we had been conversing with in the days prior.

At 9:10, chapel was opened with a prayer, and then an administrator came down and, after making an analogy that compared the Equality Ride to the terrorists of 9/11, asked us to leave, and said he would give us 5 minutes to comply. Katie went to speak with him, and told him of our desire to be a part of the worship service, and to ask why he would choose to keep us from the house of G-d, to which he replied that “this isn’t a church.” After 5 minutes, most of the Riders left the chapel to stand vigil outside, along with several students who saw the absurdity. Angel and myself stayed behind, and the self-same administrator came down, and explained that the plan for the day had been for a group of administrators to explain the Equality Ride visit from their perspective, but, because of our disruption (by sitting unobtrusively in the room), there was no way they could get through everything that they needed to get through, and they cancelled chapel. They asked students instead to come to a “sexuality forum” to be held later this week.

As they were leaving, several students hugged us and smiled and said hello. One student thanked us for our willingness to come to Cornerstone. Angel and I, at that point, decided to go to the Cornerstone bookstore. The two of us hadn’t been asked to leave campus and hadn’t received any warnings from administration or police, so we asked a student to escort us to the bookstore to get some postcards.

After visiting the bookstore, as we walked back toward the chapel, a campus security guard called to us, and we turned to face him. He asked us where we had been, and we explained the whole story about chapel and then being escorted to the bookstore, and how we were heading back to join our friends. He waved the police over, since he was “tired of warning us.” We tried to explain that we had not once been asked to leave campus, but the police came up behind us and cut the conversation short.

They asked for our identification. We both pulled them out of back pockets, and the one radioed in to have our records run. We were asked if we had been arrested before, and both in unison replied, “yes, sir”, then he asked for what, and again in unison we replied, “trespassing.” The officer gave us a funny look, but when we didn’t have any warrants on our record, we were asked for the first time to leave campus, which we did.

This stop really drove home to me how much work we have to do as Equality Riders. This school is less than an hour away from where I grew up, and the gay students there live in fear every day. Students at this school are indoctrinated in hate.

I give thanks to every student who, over the course of our time at this school, took the time to talk with us, and to try to find a place of understanding and reconciliation. You’ve taken a brave step, and I commend you for it. Now, let’s keep the conversation going.

Our day at Calvin began at noon. As the bus pulled onto campus, we were greeted by a gaggle of students who had volunteered to be our hosts for the day. My host, Audrey, greeted me with a smile and a name-tag, and we sat down and began looking over an article she had brought with her, regarding pastoral care for “homosexuals.” She had underlined parts she thought I might like to take a look at, and we talked about it for a while, until we went to lunch.

At lunch, I sat at a table with a bunch of administrators from other schools who are on a tentative list of schools for next year. They were brimming with questions about our mission, and how we conduct ourselves on campus. One woman said she seemed surprised at how “well-behaved and polite” we were, given that some of the non-welcoming schools have painted us in a negative light. I explained how much easier it is to justify inhospitality when you slander character of the group you’re being inhospitable to. Most importantly, I stressed that we do indeed just want to start a conversation.

After lunch, my host and I went down to the campus café and had coffee, and talked to students. One of her friends had come by campus specifically to talk with an Equality Rider—he had been a student at Calvin, but had dropped out shortly after coming out as gay. I sat and talked with him, while several Riders and their hosts, and whoever else dropped by, had a knitting circle, perling and parlaying.

After a little while, we had a presentation scheduled, so we all made our way to the room where the presentation was to be given. It was standing-room only, with about 2 dozen people standing outside of the doorways, listening.

After the presentation, the floor was open for questions. I can say that I was extremely proud of the Calvin community for the depth of their questions, and for being willing to talk about the issues that face the transgender community. There were too many questions to address within our time limits, which was a shame.

After the presentation, we rushed over to the dining hall. I was seated at a table with my host, two students who were amazing, and four faculty members (including a PC(USA) pastor). We had a great discussion about marriage equality, and I felt as if we made some real progress toward understanding one another. I gave each person a card with my e-mail address on it, so we could keep the discussion going after the day was over.

Next we had a panel, where we were asked questions about how our trip had been. Again, the Calvin community surprised me with the depth of their questions. It was really difficult for me to see all these concerned students and faculty and remember that this school is in the top 20 worst schools for LGBT students to attend, according to the Princeton Review.

After dinner, a student came up to me and hugged me, thanked me for speaking with her gay friend, who was really attempting to reconcile his faith and his sexuality. She asked me for advice on what she could do to make the school better. I hope I had an impact on her, and through her, on the rest of the community. I hope the same for the rest of the Calvin community.