Meg Ferrill - Meeting in the Middle

 

 

It's 1998, and it's my second year in college. I know I look exceptionally young. [audience laughter] I had just picked my major, and I had done this by going into one of the buildings on campus where they housed all the banners, one for each of the majors. I looked up and I saw it and I was like, “That's it.” And it said, leisure studies. [audience laughter] And I was like, “I can do that. I can do that really, really well. [audience laughter] 

 

And so, the exceptional leisure studies major I was, I decided to push out all my core requirements and just focus really, intensely on my electives. [audience laughter] And so, I chose human sexuality, because it sounded exotic. And yes, I was naive and innocent at the time. I also chose it, because at the time I was also dating my first girlfriend, and I thought it might be relevant. [audience laughter] 

 

So, the class started. It started first with STDs. It was just like picture after picture after picture after picture after picture of STDs, which is really hard on me, because I'm a visual learner. [audience laughter] And then, we quickly moved into sexuality. And because it was the 1990s, we really just covered homosexuality, bisexuality and heterosexuality, because at the time, we didn't talk about much. If you were a man and you had a piercing in your right ear by urban legend, “You were gay.” Like, what did we know? We all wore scrunchies. We were like a confused nation completely. [audience laughter] 

 

So, I should also tell you that I went to school in North Carolina. And North Carolina is not the liberal hotbed that you think it is. [audience laughter] At least, it wasn't in 1998. The other thing you need to know, is that I've never really been much of an activist. Yes, I did adopt a manatee in seventh grade, [audience laughter] but I have no idea where he is right now. [audience laughter] So, for these reasons combined, I was in the closet at the time. 

 

And so, when we started talking about homosexuality, I was really interested about what was going to happen. At first, most things start out when you have a group of 18- and 19-year-olds and it's like hive mind and they're all like, “I don't know. What do you think about homosexuality? I don't know. What do you think about homosexuality? I don't know. What do you think?” And then, it spiraled really fast until they're all going to hell. [audience laughter] 

 

Yeah. And I was like, “Oh, my God, I'm in the center of the worst bad after school special ever.” Or, perhaps, this is the moment that all of my Degrassi high training should come into action. [audience laughter] I wasn't sure what it was. But the one thing I knew was I was starting to get really upset, because people were throwing out words like hell and Satan and all these things. And these were all of my class friends, and it was really starting to burn on me. And so, it kept going and it kept spiraling worse and worse. And then, one girl stood up and she said-- I remember she turned to the class, like she was making this grand announcement and she's like, “If my kid was ever gay, I'd disown them.” 

 

The class just kept agreeing with it. It seemed to make sense to them. And then, finally, someone else got up in the class and she goes, “If there's someone gay here, they should just stand up and tell us why.” [audience laughter] I'm like, “What the--" [audience laughter] Like, seriously, in what scenario would that make sense? [audience laughter] That is the most unsafe space I can imagine. [audience laughter] So, I kept it inside. 

 

Mostly, I was really mad at them, because they weren't who I thought they were. But I was also mad at me, because I was doing exactly what I knew I would do. Nothing. I just went home really mad and really angry and really hurt. I sat down at my roommate's computer, and I started typing out this letter to my classmates. I just filled it with all the anger, and all the hate and every single word I could put. Just fire. And then, I went and dropped it off anonymously at my teacher's desk, because that's what I do. I push the anger, and then I just drop off anonymous notes, [audience laughter] because I'm passive aggressive. [audience laughter] 

 

So, then, I went to class. And 20 minutes in, the teacher did something I had not expected. She read my letter. I expected her to read my letter, but it was how she read my letter. Like, where I had shoved anger into each word, she read it calm and patient and compassionate and almost loving, giving people the space to actually take in the word for themselves. And so, when I said, homosexuality is not a choice, she said, “Homosexuality is not a choice.” 

 

She continued reading my letter with my words, but her tone. She went on from there and she said, “Right now, I'm sitting next to you, as I have this whole semester, the same person that you've laughed with, the same person that you've worked with. But if last week I had told you about who I loved, you would have looked at me differently, maybe with disgust, maybe with hate, maybe something even worse. But by remaining anonymous, you can accept me for who I am.” 

 

And then, she kept reading my letter. When she got to the end, she folded it up and there was this huge silence, like this long, painful silence. I swear the only thing you could hear was my heart beating out of my chest. It was like a homo heart Edgar Allan Poe moment. [audience laughter] And then, from the back of the room, there was a slow clap that grew into thunderous applause as the whole room erupted into cheers and clapture, which isn't a word. [audience laughter] Sorry. 

 

I even looked at the girl who had said she would disown her own kid. She had tears streaming down her cheeks as she slapped her hands violently, so excited with the moment. And guys, I would like, because I'm very vain to say that it was my words that peeled the hate from the room that day, but it wasn't. It was my teacher. It was the way she said my words, because this is the thing, guys, your words can be magical, they can be brilliant, they can be perfectly constructed, but they are worth nothing unless they're heard. Thank you, guys.