(Time)
El Modena High has a nickname. Students at neighboring schools
in Orange County, Calif., call it "Homo-dena," spitting out the
syllables with all the cruelty and attitude that high school
rivalry can disgorge. And a battle is being joined in El Modena,
a battle over the right to form a student club on campus similar
to ones that have become increasingly popular and controversial
nationwide.
It is a very physical and emotional conflict. On Wednesday
Anthony Colin, 15, leader of El Modena's Gay-Straight Alliance,
was hit on the head by a demonstrator who was furious because a
federal judge had ruled that the group could meet on campus. The
ensuing melee involved about 50 people and lasted about half an
hour, halting traffic. On Friday students both for and against
the group staged a walkout. Some kids complain that El Modena's
reputation is suffering and that they are being bullied for
coming from "the gay school"; other classmates call such fears
"immature." Parents fearful that the alliance will promote a
"destructive lifestyle" are pressing administrators to find ways
to shut it down, and the school district continues to argue in
court against the alliance's right to meet. Meanwhile, El Modena
has become a culture-war magnet: anti-alliance protesters have
driven in from Utah to show support even as civil rights
activists rally around the alliance.
None of this fazes Colin. "I knew I would fight for this all the
way," he says. His mother is staunchly behind him. "I said to
him, 'If you start it, see it all the way through.' I'm proud
that this little 15-year-old of mine has backed the school board
into a corner, but it's sad that he has to go through this."
El Modena is the latest battleground over gay-straight
alliances--student-organized clubs that promote the rights of
gays, lesbians and bisexuals. Active in scattered locations for
about a decade, they turned into something of a national
movement after the 1998 murder of gay college student Matthew
Shepard. There are now more than 700 gay-straight clubs in
schools from Iowa to New Jersey to Georgia, according to the
Gay, Lesbian and Straight Education Network. Members need not
identify their sexual orientation, and many alliances serve
primarily as forums for discussing all things teen. "It's really
important to feel there are other people to talk to," says a gay
senior at Staples High in Westport, Conn., who asked that his
name not be used. Says Heather Zetin, a founding member of El
Modena's alliance: "I've seen Tony and other people threatened
and harassed, and people need a place to come and talk about
that." Studies show that gay and lesbian youth are seven times
as likely as straight kids to be threatened or injured by a
weapon at school and five times as likely to skip school because
they feel unsafe.
The clubs insist they have a legal right to meet under the
federal Equal Access Act, which makes it illegal for a school to
ban some extracurricular clubs if it allows others. Ironically,
passage of the act was spearheaded by Christian conservatives
who wanted public schools to make room for faith-based
organizations. That all-or-nothing approach provides a draconian
solution to alliance opponents. In November a federal judge in
Utah ruled against a Salt Lake City alliance because a school
board had decided to ban all extracurricular clubs. Robert
Thorup, a lawyer and parent who opposed the Salt Lake City
alliance, argues that adolescence is a "formative time, not the
time to be exposed to the extremes of sexual behavior." But it
is parents and opponents of the alliance who appear to be the
most explicit about sex at the school-board debates. In El
Modena, as part of their arguments, they brought up graphic
details of pedophilia, bestiality, anal sex and, as a GLSEN
representative said, "how gay people all have AIDS."
Many straight kids join the clubs for reasons more social than
sexual. Some are simply offended by homophobia. Keysha Barnes,
18, the heterosexual daughter of a lay leader at a Mormon church
in Salt Lake City, objected so strongly when her school banned a
gay-straight club that she signed on as a plaintiff in a suit
against the school board. Despite being defeated in court, she
says her family and friends now take gay rights more seriously
because of her stand.
Others see an opportunity for leadership. Jordan Heimer is
hetero and a part of the gay-straight alliance at Staples High,
where, as co-captain of the wrestling team, he says, "I help set
the tone" in school. "Preaching doesn't work," he says, "but I
try to use humor--or, in the case of freshmen, bullying--to let
them know how stupid they sound when they use words like faggot."
Finally, some straight kids join to learn to be proud of their
families. Ross Cohen, a high school freshman in the Midwest,
says that in middle school, he was afraid to talk about his
mother, who is a lesbian. Now, as a member of an alliance, he
feels comfortable that "no one would say anything. And if they
did, someone would tell them off." And that's exactly what
Anthony Colin and the El Modena alliance are trying to do.
--Reported by Dan Cray/Orange
Harriet Barovick Reported by
Dan Cray/Orange, Education: Fear of a Gay School As gay-straight alliances
proliferate, so do virulent protests and legal battles against their existence.
, Time, 02-21-2000, pp 52.