Bullies Protect a Gay Kid at School

Gary is a big kid, a gentle soft spoken giant, who towers over his 9th grade contemporaries. He used to die his long hair various colors: sometimes red, sometimes jet black. Now he's cut it all off and is growing sideburns.

Some months ago, while on my afternoon school bus route home with middle school and high school students on board, I noticed Gary being harassed in the center of the bus by both middle and high school boys. "Hey Homo!" one of the 7th grade boys yelled at him. The older boys had started it and now were eager to escalate the taunts.
I stopped the bus and walked back to the pack attack. "What's going on here?" I growled.
"Aw, we were just talking to him," replied one of the toughs.
"Didn't look like 'just talking' to me," I said. "I want it to stop now!" I could see they were rankled and resented giving up their prey.
Just before Gary got off at his stop at the end of the route, I asked him: "Does this kind of thing happen to you often?"
"Every day of my life!" he whispered and sadly walked away.
That woke me up.

The next afternoon, after picking up the middle school kids and before getting to the high school, I pulled the bus over, stopped and faced the students. They had become quiet.
"How many of you know the meaning of the word 'phobia'?" I asked.
Immediately several students, including the earlier attackers gave the correct definition.
"How many of you know the meaning of the word 'compassion'?" I asked again.
Immediately the same students gave the correct answer.
"Do you know the meaning of 'homophobia'?" No answer this time. It was clear everybody suddenly got my purpose. "The reason I stopped here is because I want to say something before we get to the high school. You remember what happened to a young man here yesterday. Yes?"
Many students had downcast eyes and sheepish expressions on their faces.
"I don't want that ever to happen again on my bus. I want our bus to be safe for all of you and for you all to experience it as a welcoming and pleasant place, not a ride to dread. And I want to tell you something about me and my family. My youngest son is gay and I love him dearly. He is talented, smart and popular with both girls and boys. He has five older brothers who also love him dearly and are proud of him. No one would dare to hassle him as was done on this bus yesterday, lest they face one or more ferocious protectors." I made eye contact with all who would look at me. "I expect every one of you to behave yourselves when we pick up at the high school."

When we arrived, Gary was there. I asked him to sit in the front seat on the right side. In the seat just in back of him were the two tough 7th grade jocks who had given him such a hard time the day before. These boys were both on probation from earlier infractions on the bus and they knew their days were numbered, should they misbehave again.

When we came to the getting-off stop of the first boy, I climbed out of the bus with him and asked his companion to get off and join us for a minute. I said, "I've got a plan, guys, and I want you to listen carefully. I'm asking you to take an important assignment. I want you to be Gary's protectors. Don't let anybody mess with him. You'll sit directly behind him and watch out for trouble makers. Can you handle it?"
They looked at each other. "Yeah, sure," said one.
"We'll get some points against that other stuff we did?" asked the other.
"Absolutely."
Gary's protectors have done a great job in the ensuing weeks and months. Nobody has messed with Gary. Just this afternoon, as the last boy got off the bus, he pounded fists with Gary, an affectionate goodbye gesture for boys these days.

As I look at Gary now, he is relaxed, joking, laughing and enjoying the ride. He has two new friends in the seat right behind him - and hopefully a better future in front of him.