At one point in time, possibly 30 years ago, simply coming out of the closet and living life as a BGLT person was sufficient in our community’s progressive cause. In 2006, simply coming out is not enough.

What we have today are three overbearing categories that divide our community: one is a large brazened group fighting for—and winning!—rights for the BGLT community, as the second group (as large if not larger than the first) is one that lingers behind in a dangerous and lonely closet of frustration, while the third group, which comprises most of our community, is one that stands just outside the open closet door holding a rainbow bumper sticker still hoping, “that their sexual orientation is not that big of a deal,” and ignoring the indecencies imposed upon all of us, everyday. What do these categories mean to you, the student, educator, and activist? It means that if you are reading this then chances are you fall into the first group of people fighting for our community, and while that’s a great load to bear, we must ask more of each other.

Although we are doing a great job at talking sense into our democracy—YAY for New Jersey--we still have numerous teens and young adults committing suicide, becoming addicts, transmitting diseases and living in fear and shame because they cannot see another way. A recent survey by the Gay, Lesbian & Straight Education Network, conducted of youth found that more than 80 percent experienced verbal harassment and 43 percent experienced physical harassment or violence over the past year. Being BGLT is still a terrifying experience for the majority of our community. We need to overcome homelessness, suicide, deadly diseases, and substance abuse; a BGLT youth is 4.1 times more likely to attempt suicide than their heterosexual peers, an estimated 30% of homeless youth self-identify as BGLT (which greatly increases chances of drug abuse and unsafe sex), and, yes, HIV/AIDS is still considered a “gay disease.” In the three short years that I have been active in the community, I have witnessed several gay males, all under 21, bear the unbearable—being diagnosed as HIV positive.

This is where we, the first group, come in and do what we’ve always done: campaign for the right politicians and legislation, insist that the educational institutions talk about these issues, volunteer, and absorb all the gaiety we can, but this isn’t where we should stop, this is where we must forge a new path. Let’s be the big brothers and big sisters, the motivators, and counselor, the coaches and champions. With resources like myspace.com and facebook.com, we have unlimited access to those in need—reach out. Encourage, no challenge, your friends to talk openly about their sexual orientation or alliance, and to wear that rainbow ribbon around campus. We must be accessible. Get that pink triangle bumper sticker, or that HRC equal sign, or just give a flip of the wrist every now and then, just be visible.

Many of us who are now active in the community often forget how hard our own transitions were: that sense of isolation in coming to terms with our authentic selves. Or how, for many of us, we went so long without knowing any other BGLT persons and, therefore, could not find an outlet for these frustrating emotions. Let us not forget that there is a majority of our community still dealing with these struggles; our battle is much bigger than Jerry Falwell and the conservative right wing, this battle is internal, and until we find absolute affirmation from the inside, we cannot expect affirmation at all from the outside. In a world where we expect celebrities and politicians to accept us we must work to help our faltering peers accept themselves. So, again, we must constantly encourage each other; reach beyond the organized walls of the GSA and other BGLT organizations. Test your own comfort zone; be apparent, but smart and cautious in conservative places, integrate and be aware that many people look to you for leadership, because you have survived the place that they currently inhabit.

We all come from a similar place of insecurity and loneliness, don’t even try to deny it—be there for each other. Having known I was gay since I was 10, I was desperate for any connection to the community, even if that meant lingering in the gay and lesbian section at Barnes and Nobles. So it comes as no surprise that every time I saw a rainbow bumper sticker I was instantly encouraged and I felt a little less alone. I wondered what that rainbow-sporting person’s life was like, and I could only image that it was a self-assured and triumphing contentment—gaiety.

Brandon Kneefel is the Executive Office Intern at Triangle Foundation.  Triangle Foundation is Michigan’s statewide civil rights, advocacy and anti-violence organization serving the gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender and allied communities.