ELTHAM HIGH SCHOOL ANTHOLOGY   

The cold wind is hitting my chest hard, as I drag my feet in the puddles being made by the pouring rain falling above; not knowing where to go next. My suitcase is overflowing as I crammed as many memories as I could into the small wooden box. I am left with a feeling of despair as I am now homeless and left without a place in this earth. How am I going to live? No house? No family? No homemade meatloaf for dinner? I might as well walk, try to clear my head and see where it takes me. As I walk further into the night the rain fails to a light shower, I feel tired, as my emotions soon begin to take a hold of my weak, saturated body. I sit on the curb in silence. In front of me cars are buzzing up and down the narrow road, the echoing faint sounds of horns going off just a few streets away, pushing the swarms of teens off the road heading across to the theatre for the debut of “Jaws”. I’m desperate for a place to turn in for the night but with no friends or family and $10 in my pocket, that is way out of the question.

My name is Michael, I am 16 years of age and I live in Kansas, USA.  I was kicked out of not only my church, but my family as well. I only told my brother a night ago, I thought we were really close, any secrets we told each other it stayed between us. He was shocked and appalled when I told him; he just couldn’t believe the words that had escaped form my mouth.  My mum and dad soon found out and not long after my church did too. I am now homeless because of 3 words to my brother. “I am gay.”

I shield my eyes blinded by the passing cars.  I make out the outline of a yellow mustang pulling over next to where I am sitting, with its light blinding my eyes I stand to see who it is. An elderly man with a long scruffy grey beard walks over to stand in front of me,

            “Did you need a place to stay?” He said in a rough voice. I nodded, pulled my fatigue body up and loaded my suitcase into the trunk of the bright yellow mustang. Sitting on a dry towel we sat in silence. Thinking about all the silly little mistakes I’ve made in my life with tears running down my face, I was furious. After 10 years all this anger has been bottled up inside for their unjustified believes against homosexuality. I just can’t get to terms that my own parents chose their bias religion than their own son. That’s what made my emotions go wild; all the anger, the sadness and the pure disappointment of them being so unsupportive of something that took me so much courage to say and even understand in the first place. They were my family how could they do this to me?

             We pull up at a run-down 2 storey weather board house, with the obvious signs of the baby blue paint peeling off, white posts on the front veranda and white rectangular windows all round. He opens the white picket gate and we enter through the rough pine door where we were greeted by a short plum woman with bright red rosy checks,

            “Hello dear, who is the young lad behind you?” She looked at me with a curious expression.

            “Hello Margie this is Michael, I offered him a place to stay for the night”

            “Oh well do come in, come in, have you eaten? I have just brought out my meatloaf out of the oven if you would like some?”

 We sat down for dinner where I gulped down Margie’s delicious homemade Meatloaf, just like my mum always made it. Soon after she came out with plates of gooey chocolate and macadamia brownies topped with vanilla ice cream and chocolate topping just making my eyes popping out of my head at the sight of them. I said my thanks and found my way upstairs where I collapsed on the bed in the spare room Tom had offered me, and let my emotions go into the pillow. The tears were rushing out of my eyes like clouds having a rainstorm.  Margie came in with soft, fuzzy white blankets in case I got cold. I just manage to pull myself together and say thank you but with my eyes all puffy and my voice breaking I soon begin to cry again. Margie came and sat quietly on the bed next to me,

            “I know I might be a stranger to you but if you ever need someone to talk to I will listen to your every word.”

I released my emotions and told her every word. She rubbed my back and didn’t say a word.

6 months past, I have received an easy paying job down at the local supermarket and passed my driving test and having saved enough money to buy my first car. It wasn’t top notch or anything fancy but it would do. I have fitted in well with Tom and Margie, Tom isn’t so scary after you get to know him more and Margie is just like a mother you would always dream of having. I don’t have many friends since I’ve opened up about my homosexuality, but I’m just glad I have Margie and Tom; they feel like a second family to me already and have helped me so much when talking about my depression and emotions.

Last Wednesday night while watching our favourite television show “Family Ties” a breaking news telecast interrupted right in the middle of the show’

            “Breaking News, after the unfortunate death of Harvey Milk, the gay activist who fought for gay rights and became California's first openly gay elected official; riots have now taken place all over San Francisco against the jury’s decision of naming his death manslaughter.”

            Days pass and I decided to travel over to San Francisco to help with the riots against the jury’s decision which in my opinion I think it was absolutely appalling.

I am now 36 years of age, engaged to a wonderful boyfriend named David with an amazing group of friends and a gorgeous adopted baby girl called Audrey. I am still very close with Margie and Old Tom visiting them every Easter, Thanksgiving and Christmas.  I have been living here in downtown San Francisco for the last 20 years working as a gay activist and finally feeling that I have a place on this Earth.