At 8:45 am we circled together in the basement of the hotel to center ourselves for our last stop as the West Bus of the Equality Ride. Many thoughts were running through my head, and this moment seemed incredibly surreal. That evening, after two months of separation, we would reunite with our East Bus counterparts. A few of us had volunteered to stay behind from the school and prepare for a celebratory reunion.

Northwestern College comprised the shortest welcoming stop, with only four hours on campus. There was a lunch and three presentations from us, and after each presentation a brief response from the college followed by small table discussion in the room.

I made pleasant small talk with my student and faculty hosts during lunch. It didn’t take long before I launched into my own personal story of coming out and eventually getting involved with Soulforce.

The first presentation after lunch was our progressive theology’s “What Would Jesus Do: Beyond the Catch Phrase”. A man named Nate then stood as the university’s response. He didn’t look much older than a student, and he wore a painfully forced smile. He began by agreeing that the Church had made some gross mistakes in its treatment of “homosexuals”. Nate’s voice was slow and tempered, as if every word was spoken with forced effort. Thus when he finally spoke about “moving away from homosexuality” I wasn’t surprised. This man could not hide the pain and suffering embedded in his eyes. It was like they stared without really seeing anything - whatever reality was being processed was a fixed perception that needed no vision. His words sounded hollow and rehearsed. As a homosexual, he said, he had been broken in his ability to love, but Jesus fixed all of that for him. After all “the opposite of homosexuality isn’t heterosexuality,” he said, “the opposite of homosexuality is holiness.” His words were a physical punch to my heart and lungs. The air in my body escaped with a soft “oof” at the impact. This man had just said homosexuality was pure evil with one simple statement. I wanted to cry for him knowing that he had mistakenly believed this to be true about himself.

Two more ex-gay speakers followed Nate’s performance. I got the feeling that these two were relatively new ex-gays. They told awful stories of the destructive nature of their lives: addiction to porn, sex, drugs, and alcohol. They felt utterly alone, unloved and abandoned. Sadly, somehow, they had confused this with their sexual identity.

Only three spoke, but after they were done, it was apparent that the whole room was filled with ex-gays. As the day progressed, I had to address a multitude of issues at my table in the allotted fifteen minutes between the presentations, with each ending in more and more soul-wrenching discrimination. Those table discussion moments were too short, with too many unaddressed issues. I was compared to fornicaters, drug-users, those addicted to porn, and even pedophiles. Worse, I realized that many of the ex-gays present believed these lies and had internalized them, leading to their own deep suffering. My head began to hurt as I recognized the depth of the confusion and pain that surrounded me.

Before long, I was numbly shaking hands and saying goodbye. Many people thanked me, but their lips said one thing and their eyes another. Once most of my table had said their thanks and left, a lingering girl approached me. She did not smile. Her eyes were filled with what I can only call fear and an indelible sadness. “Thank you,” she said taking my hand in hers. “Thank you for coming to this school.” I couldn’t take my eyes off her as she walked away from me. My heart had stopped beating. She turned her head back before walking out of the room and our eyes met again for a shared moment that left an eternal mark on my soul.

My heart broke in two as I thought of those LGBT Northwestern students who had emailed us or passed us notes asking us to pray for and remember them in confidentiality. If four hours at this school could have the effect it did on me, I couldn’t imagine what going to Northwestern College as a student must do to those who are closeted. I wanted to scream in fury, but I instead opened my heart and mind to prayer. Dear Creator, bless these students. Truly, they are the reason we do this work.

I’m thankful this school was last for our bus. It made the East Bus homecoming all the more sweet and wonderful. But, more importantly, it set my soul restless. I will never find rest now until there is justice for all. Even though this ride draws to a close, I know that my life as an activist has only begun.

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.

On Friday April 20, our second day in the Cedarville area, we met with community members for lunch at the Coretta Scott King Center on the campus of nearby Antioch College. Several openly LGBT alumni of Cedarville came to the lunch and we had the opportunity to share a meal and talk to them about their experience at the school. These brave alumni were also present for some of the activities on the Cedarville campus the day before.

Later on Friday, a church in Dayton, Ohio hosted the Equality Riders for a dinner with a variety of delicious home-cooked food. The dinner was followed by a worship service that included lots of music and a talk from local pastors who are affirming of LGBT people.

Overall, the visit to Cedarville was encouraging because we were able to have so many conversations with students. Although the administration welcomed the Equality Riders onto their campus and the students we met were friendly, it is clear that the environment for
LGBT students at the school still needs a lot of work. Several of the riders have stayed in touch with students from Cedarville who continue to ask questions and converse about faith and what it means to be gay, lesbian or transgender. Our visit helped to start a dialogue that we
hope will continue.

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.

Our first day in Massachusetts was in the middle of a Noreaster! After traveling from New York City, we went to the Unitarian Universalist Church in Danvers for dinner and a service. There were several people who stood up to share beautiful songs and words of encouragement, and we left feeling refreshed and ready for our first evening at Gordon College the next day
in spite of the continued downpour.
Following a dinner with selected faculty and students, we gave a presentation on “Loving Like Jesus” in the chapel to the Gordon College student body. After our presentation, there was a time for us and the professor Gordon had selected to respond to us to answer questions written down by audience members.
I always enjoy hearing directly from the student body, and there were several thoughtful questions that led to some great discussion when we went back to the student union after our time in the chapel was over.
I walked down the short path from the chapel to the student union with some students who had stopped me after the presentation. I honestly feel that out of all of the schools we have been to so far, I was able to have the most genuine conversations about the complexity of the Christian faith with students at Gordon. The students that I interacted with during that first night seemed to have an appreciation for the idea that our human understanding is finite, and that God’s truth has been revealed to us gradually over time in history. I came away from the table feeling like I had been sitting with my family in an actual dialogue instead of simply an exchanging of ideas.
I can’t pretend to know whether this should be attributed to any preparations that the Gordon community made before our arrival, or even whether the sample of students I spoke with are indicative of the rest of the population on campus, but I can say that I felt glad to be in the company of other people who continue to test their own faiths.
There are obviously still changes that I would like to see made on Gordon’s campus in order to make it a safe space for their LGBT students, but I felt a great sense of integrity in the community’s approach to their conversations with us. I felt like the people I spoke to were able to agree that the past treatment of LGBT people within the church is unacceptable, and that they are searching for the next steps they can take.
I look forward to seeing what the next day will bring.

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.

Equality Riders woke up earlier than we ever had previously to start our day on Messiah’s campus. We left at 5:45 am from Virginia to get to Messiah in time for breakfast with selected students from major campus organizations and faculty. We stepped off the bus and a group of all women greeted us. Not only that, but the President of Messiah, Kim Phipps, is only one of only three women who hold a presidential position at a christian college in the country.
A handful of students guided the Equality Riders around campus to give us a tour. Shawn and I left our tour to go to an English Literature class that invited us to come and speak. As Shawn and I were walking into the building, we saw the group RepentAmerica. The group was well aware that we were visiting Messiah College that day, and showed up to hand out flyers and to protest against the LGBT community with signs. When I walked into the classroom, I was taken aback about how many people had RepentAmerica literature on their desks. But it was a great way to address what RepentAmerica was saying. Curt, Abby, Shawn and I were invited to discuss The Color Purple and the relationship that exists between Celie and Shug. We spoke about the false notions of the LGBT community; specifically the idea that all people who are LGBT are survivors of abuse. We continued the panel discussion and spoke about the history of Equality Ride, and shared our stories.
I left the English Literature class and RepentAmerica was still outside in the same spot. They were distributing literature and they had huge groups of students gathered around them. They were preaching and being extremely loud about the message that they had come to share. I saw a student at Messiah becoming very vocal in disagreement about what RepentAmerica was saying and I saw other students engaging and agreeing with their message. I began going up to students and asking them if they wanted to come and talk with me. I started talking to a couple students and before I knew it, the huge group that had been in front of RepentAmerica was now gathered in front of me. The students and I began engaging in dialogue, asking each other questions and sharing stories. I watched as the student then began to share their stories with other students within the circle. RepentAmerica eventually came over, and tried to take control of the conversation and I politely responding by telling them that I came to talk to the students at Messiah and not to them. I repeated myself a couple times, and then the students themselves began to tell RepentAmerica that they wanted to talk to Equality Ride. Brandy came over and began talking with me and the couple dozen students who were still gathered.
The last plan for the day was a presentation on “Loving like Jesus.” It was a panel discussion that included Jarrett and Mandy, and two people Katie and ___ to represent Messiah. The love that Mandy and Jarrett talked about was Jesus’s all-encompassing love. His love is the kind of love that was extended out to all people, all of humanity. He loved humanity and saw people as they were. His love and graciousness is a love that does not have any conditions attached to it. I love you as a person, BUT I don’t love your sin is something that time after time we all hear. Mandy continued to talk about her experience as a student who had attended a school that Equality Ride went to last year. Equality Ride for her was a time in her life that marked an experience where she heard open affirming people of faith. If she had attended Messiah, she would have never heard the affirming voices of the Equality Ride last year when they came to her school.
After the panel, I spoke with Messiah students who did not agree with their schools position, and the bible’s position of homosexuality that affects the LGBT community. I spoke to students who couldn’t wait to graduate so that they could be open about their identity and freely walk with their partner openly. I spoke with other students who felt that love was the most important quality in relationship, not gender. A group of students wore shirts that had the gender symbols on them that expressed couplings of same-gender couples. The students who wore the shirts were not all queer, many of them are allies who continued to engage in dialogue with us because they were exploring faith, love and sexuality. They were honest about their knowledge or lack there of, but were committed to exploring and understanding.
The day ended with discussion with the President and other selected administration. They wanted to know how the day went and more than anything, they wanted to know how they could help their LGBT students. Never before has all of the Equality Riders been involved in a dialogue with the administrators about how the day went, and how the discussion and conversation can continue after Equality Ride leaves. It was great to see that the administration was so dedicate and sincerely interested in bring attention to the discussion of faith, sexuality and love at Messiah College.
We left Messiah and headed to a nearby house were the students from Messiah showed us genuine hospitality. A house full of students and Equality Riders continued the conversation over a home-cooked meal. Our dinner was wonderful. A gay alumni from Messiah spoke to the group about being gay and Christian. The students were in the midst of understanding and stating so honestly that they did not know where they were at, they didn’t know how they felt, but they knew that the recognition of the humanity of LGBT people was at the forefront of what they knew was right. They were interested about our lives and how they could continue to be allies.

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.

As we drove through the Lincoln Tunnel, my heartbeat became faster; I was almost home—the landscape no longer sprawling grass fields spotted with cows but rather highways spotted with trash. To be honest, I have kind of missed the trash—because alongside the trash comes a community that actually applauds the work we, as equality riders, have been doing. Growing up in New York, my exposure to negative attitudes towards the GLBTQ community has been limited, almost non-existent. Having never encountered the hatred many of my fellow riders have endured throughout their entire lives, the past month and a half on the road has opened my eyes to an array of different forms of violence—violence of the mind, heart, and tongue.

I felt welcomed back to my city as the 26 of us riders entered the fundraiser held to raise money for our journey. Instead of being met with signs of hate, we were welcomed with open arms and embraced. A breath of fresh air in the middle of New York City—who would have thought?! Each one of us shared our experiences, observations, and thoughts about the ride thus far with Soulforce NY and fundraiser attendants. As we spoke, images of the past month and a half were projected onto both the wall and ceiling of the lounge. Looking at those images, I find it so hard to believe that our journey is almost over, at least the actual ride—I realize that our work is a journey far from being over.

I was overwhelmed with pride when the 2007 Equality Ride received a Proclamation of Recognition by the New York City Council and House of Representatives. A friend of mine, one I have had since pre-school, came to support us, and came up to me at the end of the presentation in tears, thanking us for everything we have been doing for the GLBTQ community. This was a common greeting from most we encountered that night–just a feeling of overwhelming support for and recognition of our commitment to social justice.

As I traveled into Brooklyn, my home, that evening, I looked at the people sitting beside me on the F train–all different colors, ages, creeds, orientations–and we were all so peaceful just sitting there. Traveling around the country on a big gay bus has really put my life in perspective, and finding myself in New York after visiting the Deep South and having been to jail for justice, really put me in a place of peace. We have two weeks left til each of us returns to our respective homes, and I think I can say with a clear conscience that not a single one of us will be returning home the same person as when we left.