Image provided by: University of Oregon Libraries; Eugene, OR
About Just out. (Portland, OR) 1983-2013 | View Entire Issue (May 21, 1999)
6 jHSft « « I may 21. 1939 TTìTìJÌTlnews We a ttu Cool Stuff Antiques & Treasures (formerly Antique Attitudes) 7372 5W Capitol Highway Foreland. OF 37219 • 503-246-6267 We are located in M ultnom ah Village near The bridge. Call for directions. In an abusive relationship? You are not alone! Call (541) 758-3000 (Community O u treach , |nc. Dom estic violence counseling and advocacy for the Mid-W illamette Valley. Confidentiality assured P This ad was funded by a grant from Pride Foundation Coventry Cycle ( 1 \ W orks The Bedt L ittle Bicycle Shop in the Whole Wide World ( C O M E S E E W H Y !) Open Tuesday-Sunday 230-772 3 2025 SE Hawthorne Your Y^mcouver R ealtor Tom Foster T o p 7% in S a le s 3ohnC. Scoff* RE AL E S T AT É 360 573 8780 w w w .lo m F o sfe rR e a lfo r.c o in B ustin ’ O ut A burgeoning queer youth movement is underway- and not just in Portland by Tim Joyce mid towering oak trees and stately historic buildings on the Linfield College campus, there is tension. “It’s intense. I’m a big target,” says Ryan Fernandez, a sopho more and former high school wrestler who stands out at this McMinnville-based Baptist college of 1,500 students. It’s not because he’s a native Hawaiian— but because he’s openly gay. “ I didn’t want my frat brothers to find out,” he says. “1 didn’t want to lose their friendship. But now 1 know who my friends are.” Fernandez has been coming out slowly at Linfield. He started with a gay support group and grew into peer education. Fernandez says he was always wary about his Theta Chi brothers learning he was gay. But, while he knew word was spreading about him, he didn’t expect to find fraternity brothers scrawling homophobic comments on his door. “It seemed like a small incident, but 1 decid ed I didn’t want to take this shit anymore,” he says bluntly. Fernandez’s story is one that, statistically speaking, is repeated hundreds of times annual ly nationwide. What makes such stories differ ent these days, however, is that many students are taking action against homophobia. More than ever—and at younger ages—gays and les bians are actively engaged in this effort. Fernandez has a new Linfield student code of conduct on his side. The rewrite includes gay men and lesbians in the code’s nondiscrimina tion clause, which puts the college at odds with the official anti-gay stance of the Baptist Church itself. Still, Fernandez says that when he took his complaint to administration officials, little hap pened. “It was really frustrating," he says. When Fernandez disaffiliated with his frater nity, he told national Theta Chi officials the reasons behind the move. The national organi zation’s investigation could lead to the house’s closure, and Fernandez fears a backlash against gay people on campus. “I think we take acts of aggression against anyone very seriously,” says Dave Hansen, Lin- field’s dean of students. Hansen says he’s not allowed to talk about any incidents at the college— or even confirm if there have been any incidents. But some Lin field students say Fernandez’s situation has sparked two other anti-gay incidents that they are now pressuring the administration to do something about. Students say one incident occurred at a pro gressive fraternity where a groovy beat got same- and opposite-sex couples dancing. Some say sev eral Theta Chi brothers got upset and allegedly threw things at a drag queen and verbally maligned same-sex guests. A few weeks later, a lesbian couple holding hands near the Theta Chi fraternity claimed members verbally accosted them. Activists with Linfield’s campus queer group, Fusion, say one student now faces academic dis ciplinary charges— and could be suspended. L ike many rural comers of Oregon, agricul ture and timber are the bread and butter for most of the 77,000 people who live in Yamhill County. The activism in McMinnville would be more of a story if it were unique to this town. But stories like these are popping up across Ore gon— young gay men and lesbians taking over, getting active— and getting results. From tiny Coos Bay along the conservative south coast, to the capital city of Salem, to the Republican-dominated Portland suburbs— gay and lesbian teen support and political groups are forming in high schools and communities around Oregon. Even the state’s largest gay civil rights group is bending toward the untapped political power of the queer youth movement. “I didn’t plan on being that involved,” says Zarah Walker, 18, a senior at Portland’s Madison High School. She’s looking forward to more than just graduation—she’s joining the board of Basic Rights Oregon. She and two other young people are to serve on the BRO board that oversees the fight against anti-gay campaigns in Oregon. In bring ing young people to its board, BRO is expanding From left: Nerissa Ediza, Zarah Walker and Karyn Brownson to include an important, and often overlooked, constituency. “It was a huge surprise to me to be asked to be on the board,” says Walker. But this teen-age les bian says the reason BRO is reaching out is clear: “It’s the most horrible ballot measure ever." Walker is referring to an Oregon Citizens Alliance measure that seeks in part to prohibit school district employees from talking about gay issues with students. BRO folks call the initia tive, aimed for the November 2000 ballot, a "serious threat.” “When I started at school, I’d have been totally lost {coming outj without the help of my teachers there,” explains Walker. “I can’t say enough how much this measure needs to fail. If it passed, we’d see the teen suicide rate going up.” n all her stars and stripes, a lotus-sitting Won der Woman greets visitors at the Queer Youth Networks Internet site (www.queery- outhnetwork.com). Its a site with answers for questioning youth and directions to helpful resources. The grass roots group is a BRO spinoff with chapters building in many comers of the state. “The youth movement is growing like we’ve never seen before,” says BRO’s Nerissa Ediza, who is in her mid-20s. I Sitting in BRO’s cramped Southeast Port- land headquarters, she explains her role in help ing young activists help themselves. “It’s hands-off. We’re talking about real moti vated, talented young people," she says. “You don’t see that with adult groups, you have to keep bugging them to do things.” Only months old, the Portland-based Queer Youth Network has been busy. The group recently staged a rally with 150-plus people in Salem, and a Northwest regional social justice foundation, A Territorial Resource, just gave the group a delicious $5,000 stamp of approval. “We want [this group] to have the same mis sion as Basic Rights Oregon,” says Ediza. “We just want to make sure youth has a voice.” I f the cluttered hallways are any indication, nearly everyone in Andreau Blanchard’s dorm at Salem ’s Willamette University is pack ing for the school year’s close. But Blanchard, who heads up the campus gay and lesbian group, is already looking ahead. “We have only about six out [queers] on campus, and next year I think I’ll be the only one,” he laughs. “I’ll certainly have my work cut out.” Blanchard says the lack of activism at Willamette is the exception compared to what he’s seeing statewide and through his involve ment with Salem ’s Rainbow Youth support group for gay and lesbian teens. “It seems to me there’s a lot going on every where,” he says. “There are a lot of people involved now, and a lot more younger and younger people. It amazes me.” Simple observations prompt many folks to conclude that gay and lesbian youth are coming out sooner, but it’s a harder thing for people to agree on why this appears to be the new reality. “The O C A put us out there,” says Linfield student Melodee Smith. “They really helped us out whether they liked to or not.” Today’s queer youth were bom more than a decade after Stonewall, and were only in ele mentary school when the political war raged in Oregon over measures 9 and 13 in the early 1990s. Indeed, the O C A helped push the issue onto television sets and into people’s living rooms. “[Gay rights] wasn’t talked about until the political leaders started talking about it,” says Blanchard. “It was kept quiet before, in the closet so to speak." Other gay and lesbian young people say there are additional factors to which the changes can be attributed. “I think the media and the popular culture has played a big role for the first time ever, says Daniel Roth with Linfield’s Fusion group. “You have Ellen , Will & Groce, Spin City-you have movies like Object of My Affection and Chasing Amy. It’s visibility. I don’t think we ve seen anything like this on this scale in modern American culture. They do have a positive effect on young people in the closet. Says Walker: "The ffrst issue of Just Out picked up had Ellen on the cover. It shocke me that she had the guts to do that, and it to me that if someone famous could do this, could too." Blanchard, meanwhile, credits the surging queer youth movement to resource availabi i ty and mentoring. , "A t 21, 1 have a sense of paternity to the young gay teen-agers out there," he says, want to make sure they have it easier than did. It’s great, they’re celebrating who t ey are— it’s very different from what I svcnt through. I’m kind of jealous to see people coni ing out at 12. These (teens] are free to deve op themselves around who they are and not w straight society imposes. We’re making |St( ry.”