Even though 12-year old Marcel Neergaard helped kill Tennessee’s  “Don’t Say Gay†bill, it’s still being used to quash his free speech and to create a hostile environment at school.
Marcel Neergaard is a marvel and a wonder. Last year, America met him as a gay, bullied eleven-year old boy who stood up to Michelle Rhee‘s anti-student StudentsFirst political activist organization that had awarded an anti-gay lawmaker who was pushing a “Don’t Say Gay†bill their “Reformer of the Year†award. Neergaard’s activism helped kill the bill, which would have not only made it illegal for anyone in Tennessee schools to discuss homosexuality or anything “gay,” it would have created an extremely unwelcoming and unsafe environment for all students.
Now, one year later, Neergaard writes in a Huffington Post op-ed that Tennessee’s “Don’t Say Gay†bill — which he helped kill — is being used by at least one uninformed teacher anyway.
“One day I was talking with my friends about Zachary Quinto being gay,” Neergaard explains in “Different.”
“An otherwise supportive teacher stopped me and told me ‘talking about being gay in the classroom is illegal in Tennessee.’ I wanted to scream, ‘NO IT’S NOT!’ … I have found teachers are quite confused because of Ragan’s bill (the Don’t Say Gay Bill). They’re too busy teaching to know if it passed, so they just try to be safe. Meanwhile, I am not allowed to talk about myself with my friends.”
If that doesn’t bring a tear to your eye, perhaps Neergaard’s portrayal of what it’s like for him to be back in school (he was homeschooled for a year because the anti-gay bullying was so extreme) will.
It’s not just struggling with being new, I am often picked on because of who I am. People have a tendency to forget the filter between their brain and their mouth. I told a friend I went to the rival school in fifth grade, and the first word out of his mouth was “traitor.” But it’s the comments about being gay that hurt most. The everyday “fag” and “That’s so gay!” almost go by unnoticed because they are so common. Someone informed me that I should follow 10 simple rules of God and I won’t burn in hell, even though the 10 Commandments have nothing to say about being gay. I said, “I’m already going to hell, so what’s the point?”
One day I wore a homemade Dignity for All Students sticker and someone told me, “By wearing that, you lose your dignity.” I have been asked, “Who did you turn gay for?” and “When did you turn gay?” Things like “How do you know that you’re gay if you haven’t been on a gay date?” or “Since you’re gay, you should go with the girls when our chorus is dismissed,” make my hair stand on end. My peers have questioned, “Do you want to be a girl?” “You’re gay because you act gay,” was another brilliant seventh grader’s take. Someone who had never heard me sing said, “You cannot sing soprano, you’re a boy.” I showed him. All those comments mean some days it’s frustrating just to walk the halls.
And finally, Neergaard talks about the nightmare of how he was treated on an overnight field trip.
Sometimes being openly gay is like having a sign above my head that flashes “Different” in neon colors. In chorus we are going on a field trip to King’s Island, which they do every year with seventh and eighth graders. The other boys in chorus refuse to sleep in the same room as me for fear of being “turned gay.” In response to the boys’ refusal, the teacher pulled me aside and explained how the boys didn’t want to be in the same room with me because I’m gay. I thought the seventh grade boys were more mature than that. The chorus teacher also said she thought about separating me into my own room which would probably cost more, and require me to bring a parent. Then she told me the principal had called my parents to talk about this. It was upsetting. I was mad because if the same thing had happened to a student who was not “out” at home, the principal would have outed them to their parents. That’s just not safe. When it came time to sign up for rooms, all the boys except me were together. The principal pulled me aside to explain that I would have my own room on the trip. He didn’t say why, but I knew… they don’t like me.
Marcel’s activism literally helped alter the direction of anti-gay hate in
Tennessee, but it didn’t wipe out ignorance and homophobia. For every Rep. John Ragan and Senator Stacey Campfield, there are dozens or even hundreds more irresponsible, uneducated, and homophobic lawmakers desperate to make life for LGBTQ students more challenging.
Marcel Neergaard deserves our thanks and our praise, but he also deserves a life free of bullying and ignorance. Clearly, his parents are doing a great job, but we all need to do more, for all the Marcel Neergaards.