Proud To Be An Ally

Date: September, 1985

Where: Western Hills Junior High

Where, specifically: Mr. Zakrison’s 7th Grade Social Studies Class

It was the first day of Junior High School. Only a handful of us from Woodridge Elementary School attended Western Hills, the majority qualifying for the honors “American Studies” program while I was one of the only ones enrolled in College Prep. I sat at a desk after entering Mr. Zakrison’s Social Studies class, knowing no one and feeling anxious. A pudgy, freckle-faced boy with a bowl haircut and a bubbly personality decided to plop in the desk right in front of me. He seemed to know lots of kids in the class and was way too upbeat for the first day of school. Mr. Zakrison took attendance and pronounced my name: “Lezlie Ricci.” (He pronounced my name with a “z” sound in place of the “s”. It's never bothered me, it's just how some people pronounce my name.) “Here.” I said awkwardly. The pudgy, freckle-faced boy with the bowl cut whipped around and whispered to me, “LeZZZZlie??? Are you a LEZbian???” I was mortified.

But that was 1985, where the angst and uneasiness about one's reputation in Junior High was so thick, you could slice through it with a Cure record LP. The pudgy, freckle-faced boy had a name and Derek and I became fast friends. He was different from the rest of the kids. He was animated and vibrant. He lit up a room when he entered it bringing life to a dull, comatose classroom. He was so easy to be friends with.

Throughout school I, along with pretty much everyone else, came to the conclusion that Derek was not interested in girls. That was a given. But it was a time where you didn’t talk about stuff like that. Everyone knew, but you didn’t discuss it. And it really didn’t matter. I loved Derek for who he was. There were times we laughed so hard I just about peed my pants while he had to grab his inhaler to prevent an asthma attack.

It wasn’t until we both worked at Dunkin’ Donuts during our Junior and Senior years in high school when the elephant in the room was addressed. When a cute guy walked in we had a code word - “Subtle.” When someone shouted “subtle” you were to “subtly” look at who was entering the shop to see how hot the person was. Sometimes we agreed and many times we’d say, “Ewww!” Derek and I had different tastes, but that was okay, it gave us something to debate about while serving up “Big Ones Regulah” and coconut jelly sticks.

We finally had an official conversation and I had my “a-ha” moment with Derek after getting Awful Awfuls from Newport Creamery. (We loved going to Newport Creamery to get Awful Awfuls.) I asked him if he ever told his parents he was gay. He asked me, “Did you ever announce to your parents you were heterosexual?” Mind = Blown. Why should he have to announce to the world what his sexuality was? Granted back in 1991, homosexuality was still very taboo so I figured it was only natural that he tell his parents. His rationale, however, was spot on and it was eye-opening for me.

While I had (and still have) a very positive friendship and experience with my friend who happened to be gay, it wasn’t all rainbows and sunshine. In high school I will never forget the two girls under the stairwell.

Every morning arriving at school I walked up a flight of stairs to homeroom. Many times, I’d see the same two girls hanging out under the stairs. I didn’t know them and to this day I couldn’t even tell you what they looked like, but the rumors and gossip would be swirling. I never talked to them or looked at them and never really wanted to. They were weird. Hiding under the staircase was odd, what could they possibly be doing? Were they "girlfriends?" Gross.

Today, I kick myself. I’m so disappointed that I was an oblivious and shallow teenager more concerned about my reputation over another’s feelings. How hypocritical was I to accept my friend Derek, yet look down upon those two girls? I guess my reasoning at the time, which was completely irrational, was that it was okay for guys to be gay, but definitely not girls. And, I didn't know these girls so it was easier to justify. They seemed insecure and awkward. Little did I know I was just as insecure and awkward as they were.

I can’t even imagine what it must’ve been like to see heterosexual classmates with their boyfriend or girlfriend kissing each other before class or holding hands freely in the hallway throughout the day while I had to hide my affection for my partner in a dusty hiding spot underneath the stairwell of the C wing. It breaks my heart to look back and think about what these kids went through. High school and teenage angst is hard enough, but then throw in a “forbidden” love, life must’ve seemed hopeless.

Now, I’m a teacher and I’m happy to say we’ve come such a long way from where we were 30+ years ago. I am so happy to see couples from the LGBTQ+ community attend Prom together, or simply walk through the halls of school being themselves with no explanation necessary. And it's so refreshing to see parents support their children's interests, likes, and expression no matter what their gender is. But unfortunately, we still have a long way to go.

The most cherished and sacred place kindness, affirmation, equality, acceptance and compassion can be taught is at home. We need to embrace and learn from our differences. As Lin-Manuel Miranda so simply declared, “And love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love cannot be killed or swept aside.

To the girls in the stairwell, I’m sorry. 30+ years too late, I know. For what it’s worth, I will always support and love all of my friends in the LGBTQ+ community. And thank you Derek, for being such a fabulous teacher. I learned from the best. You taught me acceptance and tolerance, and you are so inspirational. I am so proud to call you my friend. Not only that, but Lez is a nickname I will always cherish and consider it to be a badge of honor.