At a recent meeting of the Howard County chapter of PFLAG, a handsome young man named Josh Deese, who was celebrating his 21st
birthday, introduced a short film named Trevor. The movie described how a gay youth named
Trevor had been bullied to the point of suicide but then recovered to live,
hopefully, a better life.
Among the audience at this screening were a couple
of dozen of members of the chapter’s Rainbow Youth and Allies group, ages
14-22. The normally energetic youths sat
riveted in stone silence throughout both the film and Josh Deese’s powerful
post-film discussion that described a similar path he himself traveled and how it
ultimately led him to be a compelling spokesman for The Trevor Project— the
nation’s leading LGBTQ youth suicide prevention and crisis intervention
organization. Most young people who turn
21 go out partying to celebrate; Josh decided to help educate the community.
Josh’s life has been anything but easy. Openly gay, he grew up in a small town in
South Florida called Clewiston with all of its Southern charm hovering over the
town’s sugar cane, orange farms and alligators.
“Clewiston is every Southern boy’s dream – if he were straight,” says
Josh.
His parents were of modest means living in a
2-bedroom mobile home where he shared a twin-size bed with his little
brother. He was always treated
differently beginning with elementary school.
Josh watched CNN in the 2nd grade, read newspapers and
followed the 2004 Presidential election hoping to impress his teachers. His friends traveled a different road, and the
differences between Josh and them were beginning to widen.
“In middle school, I was treated differently because
I was the kid who everyone thought was gay,” Josh recalls. “The teases and
insults turned to slight shoves and slaps. Eventually, it got worse. The school
administration never did anything to those responsible. I remember crying to my
father in 8th grade asking ‘Why? Why don’t those kids get in
trouble?’” He looked at me and ultimately said, ‘Well, that’s just how the
world works. They’re at the top, and we’re not.’ Then he said something that
really stuck: ‘But you can be… you can be. And one day, you will be.’”
As the only openly gay student in high school, he
was known as “Josh, the faggot.” “Not “a faggot,” but THE faggot,” he
emphasizes. School life was filled with isolation and fear. “From the members
of my wrestling team, who hazed me intensely in an effort to get me to quit the
team, to the rest of my peers, who threw insults, as well as punches.”
Josh was constantly taunted, books were slammed out
of his hands in the hallway, and he was shoved into lockers. All the usual epithets were hurled at him.
After staying after class one day to speak with his
English teacher, he decided to take a
shortcut home and noticed three guys following him. He tried to move faster but it was too
late.
“A swift yank from a strap of my backpack and a
stinging smack to the face knocked me to the ground. No one was there to help
me. The three guys punched, kicked, and slammed me. I recognized one of them –
a boy on my wrestling team; someone I trusted and confided in. ‘Deese,’ he
said, calling me by my last name, ‘I’m sorry man, but we’re doing you a favor,’
he concluded, as he kicked me square in the gut. I got up, bloodied and
bruised, and limped my way back home.
“My parents were furious. My father wanted blood. My
mother just wanted the violence to end. My nose was fractured, my jaw bone
suffered injury, and I had a busted lip – a hearty reward for the boy who just
wanted a friend.”
He created a TrevorSpace account and began speaking
to some of the first gay guys who he ever had interacted with. “It was
refreshing to see so much diversity on the coming out spectrum. People on this
site made me feel accepted, safe and happy.”
Through this site he made some friends. “I even
found a boyfriend: a beautiful boy named Kyle. He was from Missouri. His
parents were Baptist preachers. His beautiful blonde hair, radiant blue eyes
and gorgeous white smile had taken me aback. I was in love. WE were in love.”
After a month of chatting on Skype, Josh and Kyle
began dating. They talked about their
dreams of being together. “Kyle suddenly
went missing,” Josh says. Over three
weeks later Kyle’s sister contacted Josh to tell him that their father found
out about Josh and discovered gay porn on Kyle’s laptop. They were forbidden to speak to one another
and Kyle was sent to a gay-reversion clinic.
“Three months later, I received a message on
Facebook. It was Kyle – he was back. I
remember quickly rushing through my computer to get to Skype, so I could see
his beautiful face again. My eager excitement turned to worry and deep concern.
For the next few weeks that we talked, he wasn’t the same anymore. He wasn’t
smiling anymore. His voice was monotone. His eyes looked sad and empty.”
After exchanging goodnight kisses through the
webcam, Josh never heard from Kyle again.
The friend who had introduced them on TrevorSpace messaged Josh. He asked if Josh was OK and asked him if he
heard about Kyle. The friend attached a newspaper article from the Internet
that indicated Kyle had hung himself.
“This beautiful boy felt so upset and hated and
depraved by his parents, that he felt the only way out was to take his life. I
lost it – I cried uncontrollably and felt hopeless. I didn’t know what to do,”
Josh recalls.“The next few days went by like a blur. I didn’t care about anything. I just wanted to be happy. My parents didn’t understand me, I didn’t have any friends, and the first love of my life was gone. I had nothing else to live for. So I planned, and I waited.”
Since Josh’s father was a police officer, there were many guns in his house. One evening when he was alone, Josh went to his parents’ room and took his father’s service pistol back to his bedroom.
“I sat on the bed, holding the gun, and began to
cry. This is what my life had become: one of sadness, and sorrow, and fear. I
put the gun to my right temple, counted to three, closed my eyes, and squeezed
the trigger. My eyes still closed, I thought, ‘Is this death? I didn’t feel a
thing.’ I opened my eyes, and saw that I was still in my room. No pain. No blood.
No bang. I was alive. It appeared that the gun was loaded, but the firing pin
didn’t strike the bullet properly – crazy odds.”
He put the gun down and began to cry again. “There
had to be a better way to solve this… a safer, more peaceful resolution. I
began to think and that’s when it hit me – The Trevor Project. I called the
lifeline and was relieved to find a warm, caring voice on the other end of the
line. His name was Adam who was a counselor for The Trevor Project. I told him
about everything that had happened in my life and why I felt the way I did. He
was supportive, caring, and accepting. He assured me that my life was full of
value and meaning. He made me feel special and significant.” "There had to be a better way to solve this… a safer, more peaceful resolution."
Josh continued to call the lifeline for the next few
months and began his road to recovery. “It was around this time where I was
approached by a friend I had met on TrevorSpace, who told me that The Trevor
Project was looking for LGBTQ youth who had leadership potential to join a
special youth council. I applied and was accepted.”
He persuaded his parents to allow him to fly to Los
Angeles to attend his first Trevor Project training. “I spent the weekend
meeting with a group of LGBTQ high school and college students who had also
been admitted to The Trevor Project Youth Advisory Council. We shared
experiences and stories with each other, gave each other advice, and allowed
each other to grow.”
Josh learned LGBTQ 101, the basics of sex and
gender, suicide prevention and crisis intervention strategies, as well as more
background information on The Trevor Project’s programs and services. He was
able to take all of the information that he had learned back home to Florida
and did what he was taught to do: educate.
“I started with my parents. Now, they had never
disagreed with me, they just didn’t understand – and who would, in a small town
where no one talks about sexuality and gender? I explained the basics of LGBTQ
101 and it all began to fall into place. My parents understood and were full of
questions, which I happily answered.”
Josh is proud and grateful for his family’s support
along his journey. His success with his
parents led him to take that experience to school. “People started to understand. People started
to accept me. This was the first time where I had finally met some actual
friends, in the flesh, who wanted to actively participate in my life. What my
Youth Advisory Council advisor told me was true, ‘Education trumps ignorance.’
This is when I began my journey as an activist for LGBTQ rights, suicide prevention,
and mental health awareness.”
Josh found his final two years of high school to be amazing. He had friends, boyfriends, and many fun
experiences.
At his graduation, Josh presented his last act of defiance by “doing
the Cat Daddy” next to his principal, and walked off a proud graduate of
Clewiston High School’s Class of 2012. “One
month later, I’d be on a plane to Washington, D.C., starting my new journey as
a freshman at the University of Maryland, to pursue my passion for politics and
public service.”
Josh found the past two years in the D.C. area to be
both rewarding and challenging. His work
with The Trevor Project allows him to speak at events and fundraisers, meeting
Members of Congress, sharing his story and
explaining the importance of legislation that would benefit and increase
LGBTQ education and life-affirming services to LGBTQ youth everywhere.
“I’ve had the privilege of being invited to the
White House and working with President Obama’s staff to discuss important
initiatives and programs for LGBTQ people. I was also humbled last year to win The Washington Blade’s Best of Gay D.C.
Award for Most Committed Activist. I’ve even met an amazing guy that I’ve grown
very fond of.”
Unfortunately for Josh, last semester he lost his
co-signer for his student loans and was unable to pay for school, thus, forcing
him to withdraw from the University of Maryland. The financial worries have contributed to his
anxiety.
“I’ve been stuck working full-time in order to pay
my living expenses, but am currently facing eviction. I’m unable to have a
social life or see any of my friends because I’m not in school.”
“As I said,
happiness, or the lack thereof, has been the focus of my life. I continue to
clutch closely, my father’s words to me. ‘But you can be… you can be. And one
day, you will be.’ I think of this in my mind every night before I go to bed,
thinking of a way out. Someone once said, ‘Some men aren’t meant to be happy.
They are meant to be great.’ I intend to challenge this and prove it wrong. I
know it’s possible. I don’t know how… but I’ll prove it wrong.”
Hopefully, he will. Josh deserves happiness.
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