The Day I counter-protested the WBC

In 2001, when I was a Freshman in college, I found myself in an interesting place.  You see, I'm a painfully shy person, and 12 years ago it was even worse.  I had a hard time meeting people.  At my Freshman Orientation, I met Adrienne, who was one of my closest friends while I was living in Missoula.  She was crazy and quirky and bouncy and totally geeky and we just kind of clicked.  I think the fact that I was quiet and she was outspoken worked out well.

She's the one who first got me into gaming, but that's a completely different story that involves guys in cloaks and prowling campus late at night.

We weren't roommates the first semester, but it didn't take us long to make plans to change that after Christmas break.  One of the things that Adrienne was involved in, and drug me to, was the Lambda association on campus.  It was a little awkward for me at first, because I was the only straight girl there, and I got some flack from some of the other kids.  The scoffing and unbelieving stare of, 'Well, you're straight, why are YOU here' was pretty hurtful at the time, but that's fine.  I get it.

Anyway.

We received word that the WBC was going to be coming to Missoula to protest.  They were 'celebrating' the anniversary of the death of Matthew Shepard and they picked UofM because the school supports their Lambda group fully.  Ya know.  Like you should.

Originally, they had planned on protesting ON campus.  They attempted to reserve space on the quad.  Unfortunately for them, policy states that campus groups have first dibs on space.  So the entire campus was reserved for the day for the Lambda alliance, and the WBC was forced to hold their protest on the corner across from the law school.

The Lambda group furiously prepared for the event.  I spent much of the week making signs (oh my god the GLITTER) and getting geared up.  There was an air of excitement and an air of fear.  For me, this was the first time I'd ever heard of the Westboro Baptist Church.  I was nervous and excited and horrified at it all.

On a frosty cold morning, not quite a month after the 9-11 attacks, the Westboro Baptist Church came to attack us with their hateful words and fear mongering, and we attacked them back.  We were there by five in the morning with hot cocoa and bundled up in scarves and hats and many layers.  By the time we arrived, the counter protest area was flooded with people.  Lambda kids, their friends and families, professors, ROTC kids, Forestry kids, local Missoulians and people who had traveled, just to offer us their support.  We quickly handed out all of the signs and we waited for them.

There weren't very many of them, just a small handful, and Fred wasn't even there.  I remember being shocked at their signs--I didn't understand how anyone could say that or believe that.  To our credit, we were fairly peaceful (although there was apparently some eggs thrown--naughty!)  There was laughter and tears and waving our lovely glittery signs in the air.

The Lesbian Brigade had been formed for this occasion   A group of people doing various tricks and acts--we had people dressed like clowns and people doing handstands--paraded through our group, cheering the crowd.  One of the news interviews with Shirley Roper-Phelps shows the Brigade parading behind her, and two of the girls pausing for a deep, intimate kiss.  It was a stunning picture and I wish I could find it.

It was even better when we discovered that most of the girls weren't gay or bi-sexual.  They were just supportive.

The protest was pretty pathetic, to be entirely honest.  The signs were hurtful and the jeers were horrible, but we far, far outnumbered them.  And while the WBC had nothing to offer us but hate and bigotry, our crowd was full of love and laughter and joy.  There was a table full of cookies and muffins and cocoa and coffee, and everyone felt like a big family.

It was absolutely beautiful.

That was the beginning of a beautiful day for me at the University of Montana.

The country was still reeling from 9-11.  I was still trying to process what had happened, myself.  We were still healing.  And on that frosty, beautiful fall day, we came together as a community in peace and tolerance.  The day was spent with peace rallies and discussions and an overwhelming feeling of love.  There was food and there was live music.  There was a candlelit vigil in the library in honor of the victims of hate crimes.

It was the best day I had while I was in school that first year.  Seeing everyone come together like that was nothing short of stunning.  Seeing the community respond to the WBC with the ferocity they displayed was surprising, but wonderful.  The reason that we were there that day was a frustrating and upsetting one, but the turn-out was better than anyone expected.

I can safely say that I think the WBC are horrible people.  They do and say terrible, awful things, and I don't understand how they can sleep at night.  It's easy to want to respond to them with hate and frustration and fists...unfortunately, that doesn't work.  They feed off it.  This reaction, this peaceful counter protest to show them how wrong they are, and how many more people we have, is the best thing.

Be Amazing

The fact that my husband and I are planning on moving back to Missoula sometimes brings up mixed feelings for me.  On one hand, it's an amazing place to live.  It's absolutely beautiful.  There is just something about living in the mountains that brings me a sense of peace...although, I'll never live UP a goddamn mountain again.  I have some amazing friends there.  It's a good city and I love it.

On the other hand, there are times where I have difficulties divorcing the person I am today from the person I was 12 years ago.

Of course a person is going to change in a decade, but it's hard for me to remember that other people have changed just as much as I have.  And the person I am today is completely different from the girl I was when I first went to college.

Have you seen those Weight Watcher commercials?  The one where there are two people, both crying, one fat and one thin(ner)?  They're the same people, basically talking about how amazing their life is after Weight Watchers.  Ok, well, I hate those commercials, but that is kind of how I feel some days.  If I could talk to myself 10 or 15 or 20 years ago, I would give myself some advice.

First-People are cruel.  They'll make fun of you, they'll tease you, they'll treat you like shit. Their cruelty is not your fault.  And the things they say are not necessarily true.  Don't let the cruelty get to you, which I know is easier said than done.  Just remember that you are beautiful and you are amazing and you are perfect just the way you are.

Don't give up your dreams.  No matter how silly they might be, don't give up.  Keep working for the things that you love, the things that make you happy.  Don't let snide comments deter you, even when those comments come from the people that you love.  Yes, they should support you in what you do, but sometimes that doesn't happen.  Sometimes you just have to support yourself.

You are worthwhile.  Your stories and your life is just as important as everyone else's.  Don't let anyone tell you that your problems and dreams and concerns aren't as important as theirs.  You deserve to have friends that will treat you well.  You deserve to have friends that let you share the spotlight, even if it's just letting you have an open ear every down and then so that you can vent your frustrations.

You are beautiful.  You are amazing.

Live life to the fullest.  Live each day like it might be your last.  Tell your friends that you love them often.  Hold on to the good ones, because they are so hard to find.

Be amazing.

I'm excited to go back to Missoula, again.  It really is a city that draws you in.  No matter how far away I've been, my heart has always been there.  My priorities are a little different this time around--school and family are going to take top billing.  There are people that I can't wait to see and spend time with, though.

It's going to be a good move for us.

I got this

Tonight, I sat down and waded through my school stuff.  Yes, this is the kind of thing that an adviser should help me with, but really, I'd rather do it on my own.

As of right now, provided my History class transfers from UMUC...I have 13 classes (plus secondary licensure classes) before I graduate with my English Teaching degree.  That means that I could absolutely be finished with my degree in two years.

This idea is slightly terrifying, to be entirely honest.

I didn't do well my first time in college.  I didn't have a major, and I was too busy socializing to go to class.  I had a hard time focusing, because I didn't feel like I had any purpose.  After a year, I was on academic suspension.  Years later, when I got my shit together and I wanted to go back to school, I couldn't.  I had student loans in default that had to be dealt with, and then I had to jump through the hoops to be readmitted.

I started back in the fall of 2010, after 8 years away.  I left UofM at that point with a 2.13 GPA.

Now, after several years of taking part-time classes (and a year away) I have a 3.18.  I've had A's and B's in every class...mostly A's, aside from Math and Biology.  I have rocked school hardcore.  This time, I have a purpose and I have a goal in mind.

It's still a little terrifying.

In a few years, I could actually be entering the work force as a "real" adult, with a legitimate degree and everything.  I feel called to teaching, and I think I would do well with it.

If I decide to double major in Teaching and Creative Writing, I have three years left.  At this point, this will likely be what I do.  Even though it means taking two years of a foreign language, it would probably be good for me.

So that is where I stand right now.  I can't wait to get back to classes in the fall.  I have two more classes to take to satisfy my general education requirements, and then it's the race to the finish line.  This will mean a lot of literature classes and a lot of writing classes.  I think I can handle this.

No.  Strike that.  I know that I can handle this.