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While some would love for you to believe that this is last week’s news, Constance McMillen is in a court room right now, today, defending civil liberties for queer folk everywhere. TODAY. RIGHT NOW. RIGHT THIS VERY SECOND. The judge has said he plans to try and make this quick, so we shall see.

In the mean time, here are some fun facts about what is going on with all of this right now:

To start, in a recent interview Principal Poophead Wiygul admitted that he has been bombarded with emails (good for us!) “I’ve been called every name known to man, I’ve been called a bigot and homophobic.

I personally would like to take some credit for that, you ephing homophobic bigot! Lawd, I hope you get fired!

Moving on to more fun facts…

The homophobic-bigot-superintendent, Teresa McNeece took the stand in court and oh, you know, lied. Under oath. Yes sir, she raised her right-god-fearing-hand up to the cover of an oh so holy bible and then… she lied. I wish that her going to hell satisfied me, but it doesn’t. I assume that I am going to hell as well, I know all of my friends will be there, the rules are loose and the weather is warm year round, from what I’ve heard. So, no, the fact that homophobic-bigot-superintendent Teresa McNeece is going to hell doesn’t do it for me. So, instead, I will help to expose her little lies, hopefully making her time on earth a little less easy.

Here is Teresa McNeece’s lie:

We all know now that there was a private “no-lesbos-allowed” prom in the works to replace the one that the school officials canceled, right? Well, Constance and her lawyers were not made aware of this until the school district’s lawyer revealed that in a filing, a filing that Teresa McNeece supposedly helped draft. But when McNeece took the stand she said she didn’t know about it and she didn’t know it was a breeders-only event. But she did. See, that is the catch. And that, my dear Teresa, is what we call “lying under oath” “perjury” “false witness” and doubles as a criminal offense. Ooh, I hope you get yours.

Here are two more things I would like to mention and then I will end this post (and maybe the next post won’t be about this, but don’t hold your breath.)

Food for thought:

1. Right now the most publicized average-joe-queer-figure in US news is Constance McMillen. When I was in high school, just a decade (plus a couple of years) ago, the most famously publicized queer person (one of the only queer people ever to catch national news attention at that time) was Mathew Shepard. And that fact alone, amongst all of the ridiculous bullshit that Constance and a lot of us put up with every single day still, helps me sleep at night. Because that is just amazing, really. Right now, after no time at all as far as social-progress timelines are concerened, we are in a place and time where when a (teenaged!) queer person says, “Hey that’s not fair! You are just doing/saying/acting like that because you hate queers” a ton of folks, millions even, jump up and say, “Ya! That is not fucking fair! Let’s do something about it!” I could have never imagined this kind of support in high school. All I was hearing then was, “Being gay can get you killed and really, there isn’t much to protect you from that.” But I also couldn’t have imagined a GSA club at my old high school either, so clearly, things are changing, and every now and then, that change is actually for the better.

2. I am not an “eye for an eye” kind of guy. But I do strongly believe that the assholes that are still attempting to cancel an entire prom to avoid a lesbian from attending do not deserve to just sit in their offices and twiddle their homo-hating thumbs. If you haven’t told them how you feel about this, please do! Every voice in support of Constance is a critically important voice!

Click here for contact information for the Mississippi school authority bigots who think they can get away with trying to impose their homophobia onto others.

Tis all for now.


Ok folks, here is the deal: Today is my blog’s 2 year anniversary. Aw, good for me… whatever. Point is, the second anniversary is the cotton anniversary. And since a few of you seemed rather interested in the shirt I made for myself the other day and I am  still totally disgusted with the Mississippi morons who are trying to get away with blatant discrimination I went ahead and made a little online shop where you too can mock the homophobic bigots while reclaiming a derogatory phrase, all with a simple little t-shirt. Wear it loud, wear it proud, I say! And let’s just be honest, prom really is so fucking gay.

Here are just a few of your options.

Yes, even bumper stickers. There are a million more shirt options at the online shop, located at If you can’t find exactly what you are looking for shoot me an email and I’ll see what I can do. I went with the reasonably priced items and visible clothing, but if you want a crazy expensive retro looking organic cotton blah blah or thong undies or boxers or something, just let me know and I’ll make one for you.

And please, all of you, give all design credit to Sinclair Sexsmith. All of it. She is the one who diligently sought out the same font as my homemade shirt (does everyone understand how many fonts there are in the world?! Jezus!), she is the one who changed the blue color again and again until I was convinced that it was the exact Cher-Blue I was looking for. If it wasn’t for her… well, if it wasn’t for her a lot of things wouldn’t happen, so I won’t go there. But a big thank you, friend. I don’t know how you put up with me but I appreciate that you do.

I am also linking these shirts to my new and most likely temporary “swag” page.

So, there we have it folks! And if you do get one and want to model it on my blog just send me a photo and I’ll post it.

Want to link these shirts to your website? Thanks. The link: And banners:

This is my new (homemade) t-shirt. You like? It is 5 minutes old and sinks of paint. I am going to wear it anyway. Everyday. For the rest of my whole life. Maybe.

Happy Friday, everyone.

Ok folks, riddle me this: Who is sweet, funny, talented as all get out, some kind of seriously good looking, goofy, with a big ol’ Broadway voice like nobody’s business, and has a name to match a personality that was born to be a star? (And yes, of course the answer is Cher, but no, not in this particular case) You get three guesses…

Guess #1: Winona Ryder? Not sure about the voice but good guess. I love her and have always imagined that she would play a love interest of mine in my made for TV movie: “The Life And Times Of A Faggot Lesbian Who Stole Nothing But Hearts.” I was going to call it “Going Rogue” but, once again, Sarah beat me to the punch.

Guess #2: Me? Stop! Fair enough, though. I mean, I can see where you are coming from. Good guess, but no.

Guess #3: Haviland Stillwell? Your third guess is Haviland Stillwell?!? Damn you’re good! You are correct! Yes, indeed, Haviland Stillwell, Miss Stillwell, The Haviland, if you will.

I will start by admitting that I just discovered this fabulous woman and can’t get enough. I am a late bloomer in some areas and finding Haviland is one of them.

Ok, so now you are wondering about me, because you care about me and you want to know why I am so excited about Haviland and how I discovered the many talents that are Haviland Stillwell, right? Well, the very shortest version is this:

My second post on going to my old high school’s new GSA club meeting was up for a few days when all of a sudden it got a big ol’ spike in attention (this is in humble blog standards, mind you) and so I checked to see where the traffic was coming from. And to my blushing surprise, my favorite fabulous online magazine, Autostraddle, linked to my post (once again, I am after an article about Sarah P.) Secondly (and this will all come together eventually) I was getting some traffic from a facebook page and I found this odd because I don’t even have a facebook page.  So, I clicked on the facebook link only to find a photo of this beautiful woman who had a gazillion and twenty three fans… eh hem, I mean friends and so I emailed her this sheepish email asking her if she might know why folks are landing on my blog via her facebook page. “Have you even heard of my blog?” I wrote, totally confirming that I am absolutely nobody.

Well, well, folks, not only is she beautiful and famous, she was also kind enough to respond. Turns out she had also linked my second GSA post to her facebook page (that too will make more sense in a minute.)

And so, totally flattered and curious, the Haviland Stillwell web stalking began. I spent hours looking things up, and as it should turn out, she is pretty incredible and has done a lot of incredible things. And here is just SOME of what I found:

Not only was she in Les Miserables and Fiddler on the Roof on Broadway… on Broadway, folks. She also has her own concert that she performs, has been dubbed “the modern day Scarlett O’Hara,” sang on the Rosie Cruises with Rosie, and has an escalating TV and film career, with a movie on its way. And apparently she has 42 hour days, and so in her spare time she teaches, consults, and produces. Oh, and did I mention her recent recurring role on the TV show Eastwick?… And for those of you who are not catching on to how this all goes back to Cher, which by now you should realize that everything good in this world will somehow lead back to Cher, in 1987 Cher starred in the movie Witches of Eastwick, and this Eastwick TV show is an adaptation- meaning, it rocks.

So, as you can see Haviland is amazing, Haviland is beautiful, Haviland has some connection to Cher, doubly confirming her fabulousness and Haviland is EVERYWHERE… which is to say that my late discovery of her doubly confirms that my address is in fact, Under A Rock, Seattle, WA.

Ok, back to me for a second (tis my blog after all.) So, my GSA post was linked on Haviland’s facebook page only to find out two more amazing things 1. She just happens to be friends with oh, you know, the woman behind the moment that I realized I was gay, Sophie B. Hawkins, and she sent her my post 2. At one point in time, Miss Haviland Stillwell, being the PL that she is (that’s Power Lesbian, yo), was the president of her high school’s GSA club… that’s right folks- who’s all perked up and paying attention NOW!?!

Wait, what’s that? Oh, you want more Haviland? Ya, well, get in line, sister. Also, you’ve come to the right place. I am going to do an interview with her fabulous self and will be posting that sometime in the near future. So, stay tuned for more of the mighty fabulous Haviland Stillwell on this blog… and everywhere else. (If you have questions for or about Haviland the Fabulous, either leave a comment or send them to my email, jessejamesblog(at)gmail(dot)com, and if the question doesn’t suck I’ll ask her, and if she doesn’t think it sucks, she might just answer… and just remember, there are no stupid questions, unless it is.)

Until I post our interview, here are some of my favorite online Haviland Stillwell finds:

No on Proposition 8: “We don’t like our gay friends, we support gay marriage”

Haviland as Sarah Palin? Really? YES.

Haviland does a Dolly song… sing it girl!

If Cher had even the slightest clue that Thursday was her day according to the queer elliptical spin of jljj world, I am sure she would be proud to share today’s spot with the fabulous Haviland.

Happy Cherday, everyone! Happy friday-eve!

The response to my GSA post– the emails, the comments, the conversations I am having, I couldn’t have imagined. Just by bringing this up, folks, adults, are realizing, reopening, saving, reviewing, repairing their own experiences of growing up queer (or whatever words you use to define yourself) and sharing them with me. Reaching out. Reconciling.

I have received amazing emails and they have meant the world to me. Some younger than me, saying, “I don’t want to do it like you did.” One email in particular (and you will most certainly know who you are) sent me an epic email. An entire chapter of her life in my inbox. The parallels between us made it hard to breathe and made me think to believe, “You don’t have to do it like I did.

I think most of us have that moment, where you wish you could go back and tell the younger-you something. I had no advice for this girl, except to continue reaching out, which I was most afraid of doing. This epic email was like time travel, where I looked my younger self right in the eyes and said, “To answer your question, jesse, the one that won’t ever let you rest, you are not crazy, you are wonderful, and the dark gets light, I promise.”

How is it that every single high school in this entire country isn’t talking about this? There is not one school, there is not one class in any school, anywhere, without a kid or two or three or four or five or six, that would benefit just by knowing that support was there.

I don’t know if I would have gone to the meetings when I was in high school. I was so afraid of my town and so afraid of myself then. But had this club, a GSA, even existed, like I’ve said, would have saved me from a million demons. Sometimes support is just knowing there is support to be found. In high school I use to tell Marie I felt like the last unicorn. Sophie B Hawkins’ song saved me a bit, from that fear. I believed she meant what she sang. There was certainly nothing to gain from singing *that line back then.

(*I lay by the ocean making love to her with visions clear…)

These kids in this new GSA club in my old highschool, in that small town, sit in a room, once a week, after school and talk to each other. And that might be their only commonality. And it might be there only safe place. And that might be all it takes for some kid, a lot of kids, not to give up, in all of the ways there are to just. give. up.

I gave up. When the rumors started, I looked my best friend right in the eyes, in a hallway in my old high school, with my hands on her shoulders, and said, with all of my might, “I am not gay. It’s all a lie. I promise.” I was trying to save her too. Matthew Shepard haunted me. I had to give up a lot to survive.

I am going to another GSA meeting with my sweet GSA kiddos at my old school this month and will continue to as often as  I can. I want to make sure they can see that support is everywhere. I want to make sure these kids, all of them, know they don’t have to do it the way I did. And I will continue to write about here (I promise to write about other things here too, I am well aware that Violet and the Seal are way more popular than I.) Also, I am looking for folks, with stories different from mine, like the fabulous woman who will get Cher’s spot tomorrow… stay tuned.

With all of us sitting in a circle, in little plastic desks, in my old high school, there was a room full of young, springy attentive eyes, like all of the questions had all already been asked years ago and everyone was still waiting, with bated breath, for answers.

One of the two teachers that have (bravely and not without backlash) volunteered to watch over this club said, “Well, why don’t we start out by introducing ourselves.” I told them who I was and that I went to this school 40,000 years ago. They giggled. Marie introduced herself. And as the students went around saying their names and what grade they were in it was remarkable how easy it was to remember myself then- so unpolished and so young.

Two of the girls were blushing madly and couldn’t actually make eye contact with me while telling me their names. I remember that feeling too- how anything lesbian-ish at all would just set my chest on fire and make my already awkward existence even more awkward. Like the first time I heard that song, “Damn I Wish I Was Your Lover” on the radio. I remember the moment exactly:

I was getting ready for school, adding mad amounts of Aqua Net hairspray to my long, long blond hair when this new song started playing on the radio. The song was good, I like it. And then, all of a sudden, Sophie B. Hawkins ever so stealthily slipped in this line, “I lay by the ocean making love to her with visions clear…” And I froze. I think my heart might have stopped and I know I stopped breathing. I absolutely could not believe what she just said! I was frozen like a statue of myself. I looked in the mirror, unable to move- I looked like the statue of liberty, holding a hairspray bottle over my head like a torch. And as accidental as that last reference was, hearing that line in that song woke up a deep, dark place in me that I didn’t even know about, and set something inside of me free. Something in me, in who I was, started to move, and I felt really, really alive… and terrified, in a good way. And now that I think about it, it might have been the first time I felt totally out of control of my body’s reaction to feeling sexual. I couldn’t not feel, let alone stop, that sharp electric ripple that whipped down through my spine and physically forced me to curl forward and wrap my arms around that weirdly-good nausea feeling that had gone off like a bomb in my tummy (that I would feel for the second time ever, kissing Marie for the first time later that same year.)

Ok, back to the meeting: There are ten or eleven students, a teacher, a guidance counselor, Marie and me (sounds like the beginning of a bad joke.) After we all introduced ourselves, one boy, who I instantly adored, immediately raised his hand with a subtle swoosh while simultaneously asking me, “Ok, seriously, I need to know. Do you think your life has changed much since high school or not really so much?”

Marie and I both laughed a little. I responded, “Um, yes. I would say my life has changed very, very much since I went to this school.

A girl raised her hand and asked Marie how she knew me. We both knew this girl was really asking, “Why is this straight woman here?” Marie said, well, like I said, I am married to a man and have two kids now, right? But in high school I was dating jesse. She was my girlfriend for a long time actually, 4 or 5 years and the first person I was in love with.” And womp. Every. Single. Jaw. Fell. It was great. This was exactly why I wanted Marie to come with me.

“You mean, you were both gay in high school?!? Together!?!” A different girl asked, still unable to make eye contact. Marie nodded and explained that no one knew of course. “No one!” She said, “It was too dangerous. Can you imagine falling in love for the first time, or even having a really big crush on someone and not being able to tell anyone! Not your mom, your friends, no one.” Most heads shook side to side while a few kids made it obvious that, yes, indeed they do know how that feels.

The same boy that I totally adore raised his hand and said, “Here’s the deal. I’m Mexican, duh! And my mom knows I’m gay but I haven’t told my dad yet. And my mom always says that it makes her sad that I’m, you know, gay or whatever, cause she doesn’t want people to make my life hard. She says if I tell people I’m gay I’ll lose friends or not get jobs or get to live where I want to or whatever. She says that being gay or whatever is just going to be way hard. What do you think, jesse? Is it totally way hard? Does that stuff really happen?”

I had already decided, before this meeting, that I was only here to support these awesome kids, not to teach them really. They can teach each other but maybe I can help guide things a little. They already know a lot, they are very self aware and this is their club, their experience. But most likely they don’t have the language for a lot of things yet, that they might be thinking or trying to say, that I could help with. Like the question my sweet, fabulous boy just asked- there’s some internalized homophobia in there, right? And I don’t need to teach them vocabulary (yet!) or how to spell it, but just help them see what they already know a bit clearer. And, I had also decided that although I didn’t want to scare them, I was most certainly not going to lie – about anything.

So, I looked my fabulous favorite boy right in the eyes and said, “Well, let’s just be honest here, you worry about all of that too, right? I mean, your mom didn’t invent that worry – you think about that too and it’s freakin’ stressful, right?!” He and a few others nodded dramatically. And instantly his entire body language changed. I hadn’t said much of anything yet but all of a sudden his eyes softened and he just looked relaxed. And I realized right then, more than anything, that just by being there, just by sitting in this room with these kids, I was validating them. All of them. All of it. Not just their experiences or their confusion or fears or sexual identities – but all of it. I was proof that what they were going through was really, really hard and most importantly, that it was all very real.

I smiled at all of their sweet, attentive faces and took a deep breath. “So, here’s the deal. Here’s the truth. I have no idea how your life is going to go. But for me, in my life, I have lost friends after they found out I was gay. I have lost a job after I came out. And I know there are a few apartments I tried to rent and didn’t get because my roommate for a one bedroom was another girl. I know all of this for a fact.” And now I really had their attention. I was the adult that was telling them the truth and they were ready for whatever I had to say.

I took another deep breath and saw that even the two teachers were frozen, paying a sort of attention that I am not use to and I continued, “But here is what else I know for sure: I don’t have any place in my life for people that don’t want me. Yes, I have been surprised by a friend’s reaction and it totally hurt my feelings, a lot. But if someone doesn’t want to spend their time with me, for whatever reason – that is a big loss for them and what can I do about it anyway? I’m certainly not going to try and talk someone into liking me. And I will definitely meet other new people, the world is HUGE, let me tell you – it’s freaking HUGE- and I’ll make new friends, all of my life, and they’ll like all of me. My real friends celebrate and cherish who I am, all of me, because that is what friends do and I deserve that!.. And why would I want to rent a home that doesn’t want me in it? You know how many places there are to live?! I will find one that wants me. I always have. And I would NEVER EVER want to work for a job that doesn’t get how fabulous I am. I am totally fabulous and I deserve to work for a place that totally gets that”… at which point my sweet boy interrupts with a snap, “You are fierce, girl. So fierce!”

I laughed and continued, “So, here’s the deal, your mom might be totally right, about all of it or maybe none of it, we can’t know. She doesn’t know, she just obviously loves you a lot and wants the world to be good to you. But we also can’t live in this constant state of fear of rejection either or we’ll never get anywhere, right? I mean, you might not get a job because you’re Mexican or I might not get it because I’m a girl, or maybe they won’t like something else about us. There are a million different reasons that the world will come up with to come down on us and make things hard and being gay is totally up for grabs that way. So? What do you do about that?”

It took them a second to realize I was asking them a question. “Seriously, what do YOU do about that? What have you done? What can you do? You certainly wouldn’t be in this club if you weren’t trying to do something about that.”

The other blushed-girl started to mumble, “I think it’s just about exposure. Like, if you’ve never met a gay person then maybe you’re afraid of them or something- but I don’t know why. They’re just people too. It’s totally weird that people say such stupid stuff about people when they don’t even know.”

My brain was screaming, “AAAAAAH! You totally get it! You are right on top of the entire philosophy and structure of the perpetuation of discrimination!” My mouth smiled big, which made her blush ever harder, and I said, “I think it’s about exposure too, like getting information before you decide on something. I think you are totally right.”

And we talked about that for a while. We talked about a lot of things. These kids are on it, they are so so ready to do good work. They decided they want to start a “That’s so gay” campaign, where they would do something about stopping that expression from being used so often in a discriminatory way at school. We also talked about t-shirts for the club, that one girl suggested should all be different colors of the rainbow. They told me what it was like to go to this school now and how there was a lesbian couple who had applesauce flung on them while holding hands in the hallway. They didn’t know who Mathew Sheppard was, so Marie told them that story. They also didn’t know Ellen was ever not out. So, then we talked about coming out and what that had been like for different folks. We talked about a lot and my heart was swooning the whole way through.

As the meeting started to wrap up the students asked, in an adorable, desperate, whiny, puppy way, if I would, “Please, please, pleeeeease come to another meeting soooooon!.” And I was flattered and said that of course I would.

I also said, “Before you all leave, I just want you guys to be totally sure, in case you weren’t or were wondering at all, that you are totally incredible and you have changed the whole entire world by starting this club. I mean, the whole entire world is a different and better place, in a huge way, just because of you guys. You made my life better even before we met today, just by starting this club. And you will never know exactly how many people you make feel better, how many lives you help, but I promise you it is way more than even the highest number you could possibly come up with and it will only continue to get bigger. It is an absolute privilege to have met you all today and to have been invited to this meeting. You are all my personal heroes and I am so impressed with all of you, for who you all are. So, thank you, very much.” To which my favorite fabulous boy flippantly said, “You too girl.”

And as they all started to leave to catch the last school bus, my favorite, fabulous boy was leaving the room when he so perfectly put the gay icing on the gay cake, “And, jesse… girl, you got yourself some goooood hair, by the way. Seriously. Fierce.”

(Looking for the line? Go to 3:18)


As I pulled up to my old high school and parked my brand new car in the visitor section, where a decade and a half ago I use to park a classic cherry red mustang that my step dad bought me, that I totaled flying through a red light many moons ago, because parking in this section was much easier to sneak past the security guard than anywhere else in the lot, I saw the huge prison like structure to my left. It was my old high school, that depressing gray-blue building that use to make every single weekday feel already haunted by bad memories sure to come, and I thought, “Holy shit. If ever there was such a sight.”

With my high school sweetheart, Marie, in tow, we walked towards the huge Venus fly trap front doors. It was 3 p.m. and school was out. At first I was confused as to why so many kids were just standing around until finally Marie reminded me that these young folks were waiting for their parents to pick them up. They couldn’t even drive yet. That made me laugh.

We walked into the office, where I once spent way too much of my time defending myself against actions that had just gotten me thrown out of class. My mouth said, “Can you please tell me which room the GSA meeting is being held?” My brain said, “Ya, we all know I’m the big ol’ faggot dyke looking for the queer kids and I KNOW you know that so let’s all just save our breath and skip the small talk here.”

It was hard for me not to feel angry. High school was one of the hardest chapters of my life and the anger that I left behind in this building was clearly still somewhere in it. I hadn’t realized I had any feelings about this place at all until I could see it while driving from several farm fields away and felt my pulse shoot into my throat. As soon as I stepped into the building it was palpable.

Once I was inside, to my surprise, the old dusty anger was clear. I could smell it. Somehow, after all of these years, my anger was still haunting in the echoes of all of the locker doors slamming open and shut. I could hear it. Or it was lingering in the stampede of jocks pushing their self-declared-entitlement through the halls to football practice. I could see it. Maybe my rage was lurking in all of the seconds between some kid calling another kid a ‘fag’ and the teacher that blatantly heard the slur letting it go. I could taste it. Regardless, I walked into that building and felt like I was looking for the safe room, in a labyrinth of endless hallways, for a little speck of safe space on an enormously unsafe shore, where even though I had my own keys to a get-away car now, that no security guard could keep me from anymore, I was in full defense, like I have written before, and practiced most of my life, I was ready to slip my self into a much, much thicker skin at the drop of a threat. I could feel it.

I have learned to sense it, this threat, with all five, individually.

I was on a mission though. I was going to meet the kids; the really young, amazing heroes that have set my heart into constant flutters that only certain Cher songs have ever created, kids that somehow found the courage to go against the thick, hard grain that the fields surrounding them have proven impossible to bend, that would let them out of this hell hole fairly easily if they just went along. But instead they chose to rise up amongst an entire ocean of ‘usual small town’ affairs with a big huge thunderous bang, with grand intention and inherent dignity, to humbly create the newest undeniable dent, ding, scratch, spark, bang, boom, bam into the unsure, unsafe, unpaved path of social change.

Listen closely please: These kids started a Gay Straight Alliance Club in my old high school, in the middle of Smallmindednowhereville, which is everywhere that doesn’t do that.

This is the kind of change that could have saved me from a million demons more than a few years back. These kids, that, as soon as I entered the room, would look up to me like I knew something, with no clue that I was there looking up at them like bright little pimple faced beacons of hope, saving a million queer ships in a second. They had no idea. Their sweet, incorrigible, ignorant, fearless, cotton candy teenage brains could not, in that moment, wrap around who and what they were to me right then – what they had done for the whole world – and maybe they never would. But right then, the hate and anger and fear and resentment that I have unknowingly been toting around with me for more than any of those students’ entire lives just fell off of me, just like that.

All of a sudden, I was free.

All of a sudden, all of that hope that I hear about, that I read about, that I have studied, that I have searched for in dark and in light places, that I have seen on the side of buses, the kind of hope that one recent man made loud and clear, “Yes. We. Can.,” the kind of hope that came free as a kid, where learning to ride a bike was just one more honest-try away, the kind of hope that let’s you fall asleep at night despite everything you can’t stop knowing, the kind we mindlessly sing along to with the radio, the kind that I dream about at night, all of the time, the kind I have kissed once or twice but just can’t always seem to find when I need it, the kind of hope that I’ve always suspected is somewhere near by, and that I keep hearing has been at arms length the whole time, just like that, found me.

And just like that…


There I was.

And there were those amazing kids.

And there we all were, in a room in my old high school, at a Gay Straight Alliance meeting, just staring at each other like, “Holy shit. If ever there was such a sight.”

**Click here for part 2: part 2: jesse james goes to the old high school’s new GSA club

Today’s message is brought to you by The Gay Agenda: If we just keep pushing, eventually the whole world will be so fucking queer it will be undeniable, that in fact, and all along, Cher is God. Recruit! Recruit! Recruit!

A few weeks ago my belief that anything can happen in this world went from example 176,344 to 176,345.

This time the proof was in discovering that my old highschool, in Smallmindednowhereville, where I thought the F word was faggot until I was ten, just started a GSA club. Yes, Smallmindednowhereville Highschool has a Gay Straight Alliance. Last year when the students asked if they could start this club the principal said, of course, “No way you faggot freaks. We have plenty of “diversity” clubs. This would be redundant (and fucking gay, dude!).” And so, these small town kiddos went all higher court on the principals ass and it turned out, if he didn’t want to send his entire district to court he needed to bend over, sign on the dotted line, and suck it up. He did. Another score for team twinks!

So, today, yours truly is going to drive all the live long day to get to this high school, to meet a teacher, who is younger than me by a few years, whose older brother once asked me to a dance at this exact high school so that I can be escorted to this little GSA club and say, “Hi there kids. My name is jesse james. I’m a BIG ol’ flaming queer faggot lesbian and I made it out of here alive. Oh, and I AM SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU IT HURTS. And then I will make out with all of them.

The kicker? Like there could be one? My high school sweetheart, the girl I dated for 5 long long long years, all through high school (plus a year), who is now married to an awesome man and has two beautiful babies… yes, we’re still best buddies and yes, she’s coming with me.

I haven’t set foot in that awful buiding since the last time I was legally bound to do so. I could never have imagined being this excited to go back there. I will, of course, let you know how it goes.

My name is Jesse James and this website is just like me. read more about me


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