Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Get Your Ass Moving and the Soul Will Follow

Man, was my life different last week.

I was feeling pretty meh- trying to adjust to my new body and how different I look, sulking because I couldn't have someone I wanted. Yeah, I'll admit it- I was being kind of bratty. I saw some recent pics and was like, oh no, I was prettier when I was fat. As for the other thing, well, I probably would have shut me down too. Then there was not one, but four suicides of gay teens bullied for their sexuality. I was sad about it but still pretty bratty about the other stuff. My infinitely patient friend Jeffrey told me we were going shopping for clothes that fit, and that that would help my ennui. Someone probably needed to slap some sense into me.

Thursday night I went to see my dear friends in Dear Harvey at Lee Strasberg- I did the first reading so I know the show but was still profoundly touched and so proud of my friends who brought it to life. After the show, I hung out with my friend Vance, who was incredibly upset about the events of that week, and felt so helpless to do anything about it. Vance, I said, we can't undo what's been done but we can sure as shootin' try and prevent it from continuing. I promised him that I would find a way for us to not be helpless. I woke up Friday to a fifth suicide. THAT slapped sense into me. This is a huge problem, I thought. My brain started whirring, as it does, and while chanting I had an idea. The Landslide team could do an It Gets Better video. I immediately started texting- my partner, Kevin, friends with cameras and technical talents- all the while chanting Nam Myoho Renge Kyo, mind you. I started getting responses right away, and that was great but I still felt like there was something I was missing. Then I thought of my sister, Cate--

My youngest sister, Cate, came out this year. She was 19. She told me that the reason she came out was because she wanted to be truthful about who she was, and that she didn't want to miss any more opportunities because she didn't have the balls to tell people who she is and what she wants. I have never been so proud of her. How admirable- how mature. I've got 12 years on her and I struggle with that one. And I thought, that's it. Someone needs to tell these kids that whatever they may hear from their peers or even their families, that there are so many people out there who recognize and admire their courage and that we would be proud to know them. And I was off to the races.

I wrote a loose script, emailed everyone on my contacts list that I thought would amenable to help, and the next day facebooked more people. Kevin and I met the next day with Chris, our exec producer, who, poor guy, learned about ALL of this when he walked into the Coffee Bean. Fortunately, he was on board, they both loved my I'm Proud of You idea, and we all started making calls. All of my hang-ups about asking for help went out the window. I have felt so energized, so happy, and could care less about all the crap I was sulking about before Friday. My friends have come through like gangbusters, volunteering help and making calls. As always, a few disappointments, rejections, but really, any guy who has a problem with gays was not going to make it far with me anyway (he was new so not hurt, but a little stung).

This has lit this crazy fire in me- I am sidestepping insecurities and shyness (yes, I have some) to speak to whomever will listen to me and give me help putting this together. I spent half an hour talking to an famous actress today about the project. I was at the gym, no makeup, ponytail, not smelling my best. Didn't matter- she agreed to participate and make some calls. Best of all, I told Cate about everything last night, and she told me the greatest thing- that she was proud of me. I teared up right in the middle of the 405 freeway. She and her girlfriend are participating in the It Gets Better video!

I have been so gratified by the outpouring of help and support from everywhere- from high school girlfriends in Kansas to my friends and acquaintances here in LA. I was teased and bullied mercilessly as a kid and another reason I thought this was a valid idea was that I know how much it would have meant to me to have a grown-up, let alone several, tell me they were proud of me, who I was and what I could do. I wonder, in giving these kids something I needed so badly and did not get myself, would this proverbial physician heal herself?

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