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If I made a movie…

May 7, 2015

Opening scene: two fairly fit, athletic working class boys from New Glasgow are caught tentatively holding hands – out in the local park at dusk – by a group of local semi-feral toughs, and are accused of being “faggots”.

The group of boys are furiously homophobic, who themselves come from families of horrible abuse. They set upon the two gay boys.

The two boys escape with nothing more serious (physically speaking) than the opening rounds of a potentially serious beating – faces scuffed, a fat lip, a black eye – enough of a beating that you will still see on their faces a week from now that they had been in a fight – but a no bones broken, no stitches needed – kind of beating.

In the Second Scene we see one of the boys soon thereafter in his family bathroom looking at himself in the mirror. He is examining his cut lip and the scrapes on his face. There are tears and long pauses as he looks at himself in the mirror. He finally straightens himself up and goes out into the kitchen where his mother is cooking dinner.

He discloses to his mother what happens. And finally breaks down in tears and tells his mother that he loves the other boy. The mother is obviously stressed. She does not know whether to hug him, or freak out. So she does neither.

Later that night he goes for a walk and his mother discloses to his father the events of the day – his father is furious and begins to drink and storms around the house looking to break something. The mother tries to intervene and in his rage he blames her for his son being gay and he slaps her to the floor.

When the son returns home the father now drunk tries to beat the boy – with as much viciousness as the boys had directed toward him – and the boy after getting slapped around runs out of the house with only his jacket and his wallet. The father yells at him “You fucking faggot! If I ever see you back here I’ll kill you myself!”

Scene III: the boy goes to the other boy’s house – who will now have nothing to do with him – has decided to go deep into the closet (“until I graduate and move to Halifax”). He says he doesn’t want to see the boy again.

The boy walks the streets but is seen again by the others from earlier in the park who immediately want to track him down and beat him further. He goes into the bus station and takes the next bus to Halifax.

In Halifax he wanders around the streets for a day before another street youth – who recognizes  that he is new – kindly tells him about the homeless youth shelter – and he finds his way to the shelter door …he stands on the step of the shelter and pauses before ringing the doorbell…

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30% of homeless youth have been thrown to the streets by their families simply for being gay.

This is but one that has been related to me by a young 18-year-old male who uses our shelter…

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One Comment leave one →
  1. May 7, 2015 7:02 pm

    Beautifully written, but so haunting and sad. My husband and I raised three sons, and they all know ( and their friends all know) that we love them unconditionally. We are a family, none of us are perfect nor are we the “cookie cutter” example of what they are expected to be. We encourage their individualism, and in turn they celebrate ours. Thank-you for choosing to work at the shelter, those poor souls need people like you to spread their story for awareness and hopefully, for change.

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