If this doesnt work
so i wrote a letter to a foundation that specializes in helping glbtqa students who have been marganaized. Its last minute, but if this doesnt work, I don't know what will.
THE LETTER:
Hello-
Let me tell you my story. I hope you'll take time to read it! My name Braden Chapman, I am 21, and gay. I came out- when I was 15. I had no idea that queer people faced adversity in the world. Call me niave? I guess I know better now. I came out to my friends and my peers, but not my family.
When I was 16 I was reading XY magazine on the school bus. Some students took up to calling me fag and others homo, and this caused a riot of words on my bus ride home. The bus driver, called me to the front, looked at the magazine and said "what are you reading this for fag?" He then dropped the magazine, and pushed me up against the bus seat. Everyone was watching and I was in tears. I couldnt tell my aunt, whom I was living with. The school threatened to tell her, but I just couldnt let her know. As far as they were concerned, I had reading material I shouldn't have. Rumors flew around school, I was punched, thrown up against lockers and even attacked by a fellow student. (I was the one who was asked to leave the class we shared- not he). After days of this, and my depression my aunt accused me of doing drugs. I denied her accusations and eventually she said "is this about you being gay?"
Over the next two months, things escalated. We went to see RENT as a gift. I assumed my aunt knew it wasnt a conservative themed show, and I found out I would pay later for this assumption. That night, on the way home, she flipped out. She hit me and slammed me against the walls- I did not feel safe. I tried to leave, but she and my uncle stood at the front door, gaurding it like a defensive line on a football team. I tried calling the police- they told me that I was too young to leave- despite my pleas to go someplace safer.
The next day my aunt left the house, but not before calling and telling my dad I was gay, removing every form of communication from the house (phone, telephone line for the computer etc...) and driving off to go run errands. I was stuck in rural maine and miles from the closest pay phone. I searched the garage and found a half broken telephone that allowed me to make out going calls only and arranged for a ride to portland, where I figured I could get help.
In portland, things were a disaster. fortunately, I had access to unsafe shelters, parks to sleep in that were inhabbited by drunks and drug users, and the occasional floor to crash on. Social services were unable to help because I did not have a mental or substance abuse problem to claim. I was too old at the age of 16 and homophobia was not a viable reason to take someone into foster care. This search for something better last through four months of homelessness, hunger and never really knowing when you would take your next shower.
Four months later, I was taken in by a lesbian couple who are my heroes in many ways. They provided positive imagery of queer adults and really supported my through my last part of high school. They still remain in my life and are extremly supportve, but do not have the means to put me through college. I initially attended a public school, but transferred to school in new york, because they had the program I wanted to study- Theatre Arts Management.
Back in Maine I produced plays, drag shows, anything I could- I believe that theatre is a way for us to talk about social issues and I dedicate my work to undoing social injustices while exploring sexual diversity and gender identity. While I loved it, I was over compensating for what my school there couldnt give me. It was a huge ontaking and put myself into debt.
I love my school in New York, Marymount Manhattan College is a small quarky and wonderful learning environment. I love learning from good thinkers. Unfortunitly, I don't get the aid I need. My dad said he would help- I didn't know if I could trust him, but I decided to give him another chance, he promissed and promissed and after 2 semmesters of his lying and not comming through, I faced the reality that I have two options- drop out or find help. I owe the school 3,200 in past due amounts, and I will owe them another 1,200 from here on out per semmester. (Lets not even count books.) School starts next week and the financial aid department is unable to help me further. I have independent status with the government, due to my circumstances and still after goverment aid and all the loans I can take (about 8k a semmester) I end up coming short. School starts next week and I don't know what to do. If I don't register, I'll end up having to move out of campus housing and be back on the streets. I don't have any money and currently live day to day on 10$ for food.
I guess I shouldnt have trusted my father. He has always cut me short and yet again, he continues to disapoint. My father and mother have divorced and I suspect my mother uses drugs. I don't talk to her anymore and now that I don't have to worry my dads abusive tactics I don't have to call him to see if he'll come through. I guess that's a plus? I am drained after trying to establish a relationship with him, but he remains cold to me. I guess he would better assume I don't exist? Sometimes I feel that way.
I am writing despite knowledge that this is not during your award period. I am writing because I don't have any other options. I don't know what to do. I face my greatest fear of being a failure. Is there anything you could do? Is there anywhere I should look to for help? Anything you do to help or find me somewhere to get help would be appreciated beyond belief.
Thank you for taking time to read this,
Braden Chapman
THE LETTER:
Hello-
Let me tell you my story. I hope you'll take time to read it! My name Braden Chapman, I am 21, and gay. I came out- when I was 15. I had no idea that queer people faced adversity in the world. Call me niave? I guess I know better now. I came out to my friends and my peers, but not my family.
When I was 16 I was reading XY magazine on the school bus. Some students took up to calling me fag and others homo, and this caused a riot of words on my bus ride home. The bus driver, called me to the front, looked at the magazine and said "what are you reading this for fag?" He then dropped the magazine, and pushed me up against the bus seat. Everyone was watching and I was in tears. I couldnt tell my aunt, whom I was living with. The school threatened to tell her, but I just couldnt let her know. As far as they were concerned, I had reading material I shouldn't have. Rumors flew around school, I was punched, thrown up against lockers and even attacked by a fellow student. (I was the one who was asked to leave the class we shared- not he). After days of this, and my depression my aunt accused me of doing drugs. I denied her accusations and eventually she said "is this about you being gay?"
Over the next two months, things escalated. We went to see RENT as a gift. I assumed my aunt knew it wasnt a conservative themed show, and I found out I would pay later for this assumption. That night, on the way home, she flipped out. She hit me and slammed me against the walls- I did not feel safe. I tried to leave, but she and my uncle stood at the front door, gaurding it like a defensive line on a football team. I tried calling the police- they told me that I was too young to leave- despite my pleas to go someplace safer.
The next day my aunt left the house, but not before calling and telling my dad I was gay, removing every form of communication from the house (phone, telephone line for the computer etc...) and driving off to go run errands. I was stuck in rural maine and miles from the closest pay phone. I searched the garage and found a half broken telephone that allowed me to make out going calls only and arranged for a ride to portland, where I figured I could get help.
In portland, things were a disaster. fortunately, I had access to unsafe shelters, parks to sleep in that were inhabbited by drunks and drug users, and the occasional floor to crash on. Social services were unable to help because I did not have a mental or substance abuse problem to claim. I was too old at the age of 16 and homophobia was not a viable reason to take someone into foster care. This search for something better last through four months of homelessness, hunger and never really knowing when you would take your next shower.
Four months later, I was taken in by a lesbian couple who are my heroes in many ways. They provided positive imagery of queer adults and really supported my through my last part of high school. They still remain in my life and are extremly supportve, but do not have the means to put me through college. I initially attended a public school, but transferred to school in new york, because they had the program I wanted to study- Theatre Arts Management.
Back in Maine I produced plays, drag shows, anything I could- I believe that theatre is a way for us to talk about social issues and I dedicate my work to undoing social injustices while exploring sexual diversity and gender identity. While I loved it, I was over compensating for what my school there couldnt give me. It was a huge ontaking and put myself into debt.
I love my school in New York, Marymount Manhattan College is a small quarky and wonderful learning environment. I love learning from good thinkers. Unfortunitly, I don't get the aid I need. My dad said he would help- I didn't know if I could trust him, but I decided to give him another chance, he promissed and promissed and after 2 semmesters of his lying and not comming through, I faced the reality that I have two options- drop out or find help. I owe the school 3,200 in past due amounts, and I will owe them another 1,200 from here on out per semmester. (Lets not even count books.) School starts next week and the financial aid department is unable to help me further. I have independent status with the government, due to my circumstances and still after goverment aid and all the loans I can take (about 8k a semmester) I end up coming short. School starts next week and I don't know what to do. If I don't register, I'll end up having to move out of campus housing and be back on the streets. I don't have any money and currently live day to day on 10$ for food.
I guess I shouldnt have trusted my father. He has always cut me short and yet again, he continues to disapoint. My father and mother have divorced and I suspect my mother uses drugs. I don't talk to her anymore and now that I don't have to worry my dads abusive tactics I don't have to call him to see if he'll come through. I guess that's a plus? I am drained after trying to establish a relationship with him, but he remains cold to me. I guess he would better assume I don't exist? Sometimes I feel that way.
I am writing despite knowledge that this is not during your award period. I am writing because I don't have any other options. I don't know what to do. I face my greatest fear of being a failure. Is there anything you could do? Is there anywhere I should look to for help? Anything you do to help or find me somewhere to get help would be appreciated beyond belief.
Thank you for taking time to read this,
Braden Chapman