The Power Within

Brian and Pete: The Power Within

Chapter Sixteen

Cause

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The next day, I asked Mr. Johnson for some time to discuss my idea. After a rather lengthy meeting with the principal, the vice principal, and the school counselor, another meeting was set up with the student council for that afternoon. When I was done, I was exhausted and a bit nervous. I made it home just in time to get sick, and I couldn’t eat dinner.

Kevin, Mom, Ray and I discussed what was going to happen. Mom was concerned that I was setting myself up. I responded that there was nothing I could do about that, but that I needed to follow through. It was important. I could no longer sit idle and watch the wanton abuse of kids who wanted nothing more than to go to school. I went to bed shortly after the discussion, hours before my normal time. Mom again expressed her concern, and I assured her I was just tired.

When morning came, even the thought of breakfast made me sick to my stomach. Ray started giving me a hard time, and I told him he could give my speech if he wanted. He declined with a smile, reminding me that I had put myself in the position to speak in the first place. In a rare serious moment, Ray added that it would be worth it if my plans came to fruition. He further surprised me by saying he’d help me any way he could – any way except giving my speech. I surprised him by pulling him into an embrace that lasted several seconds. He smiled when we separated, squeezed my shoulder, and walked away without another word.

I went to the office immediately after arriving at school as I was instructed to. I was to wait there while the school gathered in the gymnasium for the assembly. I still didn’t understand why they didn’t wait until Friday for the assembly, but it wasn’t up to me.

“Okay, Brian, let’s go,” Dr. Sumner said as she walked out of her office. When I stood a bit slowly, she asked, “Are you nervous?”

“Yeah,” I admitted candidly. “I couldn’t eat this morning. Or last night.”

“Well, what you are trying to do here is laudable, Brian,” said the woman sincerely. “I hope it will work.”

“Me, too. It will if people aren’t afraid to join in. And if the teachers do their part.”

“I’ll do my best to see that they do.”

“I appreciate that, Dr. Sumner.”

A moment later, she asked, “Do you know what you will say?”

“More or less,” I said with a shrug. “I memorized some of what I want to say, but I don’t have anything other than that.” I told her what I intended.

After a moment of thought, she said, “If that doesn’t get their attention, I don’t know what will. I’m certain you’ll do fine. All you have to do is remember why you proposed this in the first place.”

“Yeah. I know.”

We walked into the gym and I looked up into the stands. There were tons of people sitting there, and I would be center stage in front of them in just a few moments. Trying to put that out of my mind, I concentrated on finding James and Vince in the stands, along with Jared and Rick, Ray, and my other friends. This was important to all of them, not just me.

“May I have your attention, please,” said the principal over the public address system. “Quiet down.” The crowd slowly did as she asked. “This is a special assembly for a single purpose.”

I swallowed at her words. I had no idea what would happen when I had spoken with Dr. Sumner and her staff about my idea. I certainly didn’t expect them to disrupt classes for it.

“I will now turn the assembly over to a student who has something to say. Please give him your kind attention.”

She motioned me forward. To help keep my nerves under control, I tried to keep my mind on why I was going ahead with my plans. It became easier when I saw someone in the front row pop another kid in the back of the head, obviously hazing him.

“Thank you Dr. Sumner,” I said after taking the microphone. “I have a couple of questions before I start that I want you to think about. Don’t raise your hands, just think about them. How many of you are harassed on a daily basis?” I paused for a moment, and then continued, “How many of you hate coming to school because someone constantly picks on you?”

I waited a few more seconds, looking around the crowd and taking in their reaction before continuing.

“Most of you know me or know of me from what happened last month. For those of you who don’t, my name is Brian Kellam. Before all of you go off wondering or asking people around you, yes, I’m gay. I’ve known it since I was 12, maybe earlier,” I stated, ignoring the slight murmur of the crowd, and continued dismissively, “All of you homophobes can relax. I’m not interested in you. You leave me alone, and I’ll leave you alone, and we’ll all get along great.”

A nervous chuckle came from the crowd.

“There’s no real difference between me and the next person. I like sports. I like to learn. I like music. The only difference between me and most of you guys is that I don’t want to be romantically involved with a girl. I want a boyfriend, and not one who’s going to try and beat me up because of it, so again, if you aren’t interested in me, I’m not interested in you. I don’t check out anyone in the shower any more than anyone else does, and if you say you don’t, you’re a liar.”

More nervous snickering came from the stands. I figured I was doing okay, but there were some sour faces out there.

“Okay, that’s enough about me. Let’s talk about you. Some of you are small for your age, or some of you freshmen have seniors that give you grief every time they see you. Some of you are heavier than you want to be. Some of you have acne. Some of you are smart. Some of you are being blackmailed or coerced into doing other peoples’ school work for them, or worse.”

“There are some of you out there that are gay. The rest of you may think you know who they are. I guarantee you that you don’t know them all. Regardless, you better treat them with the same respect you want from others.”

“I’m starting up a new school club. It’s for everyone who is tired of being pushed around, being made fun of, being harassed, picked on, cheated, hurt or beat down for whatever reason. We’re calling it the Counter-Intimidation Alliance, and that’s exactly what it is. Individually, it’s really hard to stand up to those who abuse us, but as a group, with others by our side, we can do it. Why is this important?”

I looked out at the crowd and found my friends before continuing from memory.

“January 21, 1985: James Kearbey, 14, walked into his school and killed the principal and three fellow students. He said he was bullied and beaten for years by the three boys he killed.”

A stir went through the now silent crowd.

I pointed to the first four people directly in front of me. They were part of the freshman class. “Will you four people please come up here and stand behind me on my right?” As they did, I added, “Four people dead.”

“March 2, 1987: Nathan Faris shot a classmate and then himself. He had been teased because he was chubby. He was only twelve. Next two come up, please. That’s six dead.”

“December 16, 1988: Sixteen year old Nicholas Elliot went to school with a semi-automatic pistol, 200 rounds of ammunition and three firebombs. He wounded one teacher, killed another and fired on a student who had called him a racist name. Next person over there, next two on my left. Seven dead, two wounded.”

Another stir went through the crowd with some disturbed murmuring. I knew I had their attention now.

“October 5, 1989: Cordell Robb, 15, took kids hostage in drama class with a shotgun and pistol with the goal of luring his step-father to school so he could kill him. One of the hostages taunted the gunman and was shot . Next person over here. Seven dead, three wounded.”

“Fourteen year old John McMahan was bullied by other boys for years. On May 14, 1992, he brought a .357 Magnum to school and opened fire in his science class. They were lucky; only two students were injured before he was stopped.” The next two people took their place without being prompted. “Seven dead, five wounded.”

“On October 12, 1995, Toby Sincino, 16, entered his school a week after being suspended for making an obscene gesture at a student who was bullying him. He shot and wounded a math teacher, killed another teacher, and then turned his weapon on himself. Nine dead, six wounded.”

“A teacher and two students were killed, and another student wounded on February 2, 1996, when fourteen year old Barry Loukaitis walked into his algebra class with a hunting rifle, two hand guns and 78 rounds of ammunition. One of the students killed had teased him incessantly. Eleven dead, seven wounded.”

“Evan Ramsey, 16, walked into his school and killed the principal, a student, and wounded two other kids on February 19, 1997. Thirteen dead, nine wounded.”

The gym was silent.

“Joseph Todd, 14, shot two students on December 15, 1997. He said he was humiliated by the teasing that never stopped. Thirteen dead, eleven wounded.”

I walked up to the stands, counted out a large group of people and directed them to one side, and then a significantly larger group and directed them to the other side.

“Thirty eight more people were killed and sixty-eight wounded by young people in school shootings in the last twenty-five years. Bullying and teasing could not be confirmed as a cause, but were quite likely a factor in the shootings.”

I let the crowd look at the people standing with me for a moment, until a low buzz of conversation started, and then I continued.

“Take a look – fifty-one people dead, and seventy nine wounded because, at least arguably, someone bullied or teased someone else. One hundred and thirty people – that’s one quarter of the freshman class, or one in eight people in this room right now. Count it out. Every eighth person in the sophomore, junior and senior classes stand up.”

I waited while my request was carried out. When they were about half way done, I continued.

“These are the cases I could find with just one hour of searching on the internet. One of these cases took place just a few hours down the road in Springfield at the end of last school year. Kip Kinkle, a fifteen year old, killed his parents and two students, and wounded twenty five more. How many others have died or were hurt in cases where the cause for the killing was unknown? Look around you. If the percentages were carried through, every one of these people standing would have been shot. Four out of ten standing would have been killed. Imagine if these people were gone. Thank you, you may sit down.”

As the crowd shuffled back to their seats, I let the room stew. Many students seemed to have been disturbed by what I had said. More than a few teachers looked uneasy. When the murmuring started to grow to a low hum, I spoke again.

“Some of you might be thinking that this isn’t a good example, that the percentages don’t work out. I ask you this: does it really matter? Even if one person here were to die in an incident like these, it would be too many. Look at the person next to you. What if it was them? What if it was your favorite teacher, or your best friend, or maybe your brother or sister?”

“What if it was you?” I asked brutally, and paused for a moment while they thought it over.

“Here is the way the CIA works. Yeah, yeah, it’s a cheesy acronym, but it’s perfect for what this alliance is all about. Once we get organized, we compare schedules and see who can buddy up from class to class so no one is alone at any time, and we just do our thing. Go to class and get an education. If the problem continues while you’re attending classes like phys ed, then school policy requires that the teacher to look into complaints that come up. In other words, if you’re getting harassed and you tell the teacher, and they do nothing, they aren’t doing their job. If the teacher blows you off, then go to Mr. Johnson. I know he won’t blow you off, and I’m sure he’ll be wondering why he’s hearing about it from a student first and not from a teacher.” Several teachers appeared angry with that comment, but I ignored it.

“Here’s the best part. If enough people witness an instance of harassment or abuse and file a complaint, the bully can be suspended or expelled. Yes, you heard me: expelled. And don’t think you can join the club and use that as a weapon, though, because every case will be investigated, and false accusations of abuse also constitutes harassment, and making a false statement to the authorities can have legal consequences as well.”

“Those of you who want to join, sign-ups are along the wall. Those of you who want to join but are afraid for whatever reason, e-mail me at the address on the sign. I’ll contact you that way and let you know what you can do. Our organizational meeting is Monday after school in the library.”

“The only way this will work is if we get people involved, so the choice is yours. We can either have people be afraid to come to school and walk down the halls, or we can come together and make our school what it should be: a place to learn without fear.”

“You people who think it’s fun to pick on kids who are smaller than you, or who dress differently, or who have some extra weight really should think about this. Our school isn’t immune – every one of these events I mentioned could have happened here. Just last year we had a case where someone brought a knife and a gun to school with the intent of hurting or even killing someone. How would you feel knowing you had caused something like this to happen, if you lived through it? Think about that when you go to bed tonight.”

“In any case, no matter how this works out, if I see anyone being harassed, for any reason at all, I will step in. There is no more room for that kind of crap here, and I will no longer tolerate it, especially when it is directed at me,” I said, my eyes finding Todd Langley, Brandon Krogh, and Jesus Garza, “or my friends. I’ll be near the sign-up sheet if you have any questions. Thank you.”

A muted roar went up from the crowd as soon as I turned off the microphone and handed it to Dr. Sumner. I saw Mr. Johnson near the exit clapping silently with a grim smile. I nodded in recognition as Dr. Sumner dismissed the assembly.

Tomas was the first person to reach me. “You… you thought this up at lunch the other day, didn’t you?”

“That’s when it started. I fleshed it out and talked to Sumner and Johnson yesterday morning, and got student council approval yesterday afternoon.”

Tomas watched me for a moment, and then said, “We’ll talk about this later.”

“Sure.”

Ray was just finishing his signature when Tomas got in line to put his name down. I saw several people I knew in the line as well.

“Nice speech, asshole,” Ray said with a grimace.

“Thanks, you son-of-a-bitch,” I answered, shaking his offered hand.

“You got that right. Did you have to scare the shit out of everyone?”

“Yeah, I think I did, Ray. I had to make an impact if people are going to take this seriously.”

“You did that, all right. Pulling people out of the stands like that… Jesus, Brian, you sure made it personal.”

“Good.”

“I’ll talk to you at home, okay?”

“Any time, bro.”

Ray half smiled and then walked away, his expression somber.

I had several other people talk to me, and I answered their questions as best I could. Some wanted more information about the events at other schools, and I told them to search the web for it.

James stopped to talk to me as well. He waited until the last person had walked away before he approached me. His expression was serious, contemplative, his eyes piercing.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked, his voice low but harsh.

“Because it needs to be done. I’m tired of seeing guys like you and me getting picked on all the time.”

“Yeah, right. You getting picked on.”

“Yes, me. I’ve had my share of abuse, James, whether I look like it or not.” His eyes continued to burn into mine. “Do you remember Brent last year? He beat me up every day in wrestling practice. Do you know why? I beat him in a wrestling match during phys ed. I agreed to work with him in practice to keep other people from getting involved. Before that, before I came to Portland, I had the same situation, only there were five of them. Why? Because I had the guts to stand up to them for telling a black kid he couldn’t wrestle because they didn’t want any niggers on the team.”

James gasped at my use of the word.

“That black kid is one of my brother’s best friends. I consider him family.”

“So, you’re not doing this for me then,” he stated.

“No, I am doing it for you. I’m doing it for you, I’m doing it for Mac, I’m doing it for Vincent, I’m doing it for the gay kids, the big kids, the short kids, and anyone else who is tired of being afraid every day. And I’m doing it for myself. It’s time for this shit to stop. Past time. Matthew Shepard showed me that.”

“You’re setting yourself up. You know that, right?” James asked quietly.

“I know, but somebody has to do something, and I don’t see anyone else stepping up to the plate. I’ve been through a lot, and I think I can handle anything that comes my way short of someone trying to kill me, and then they better bring help.” I softened my words with a grin.

He stared at me for a moment, and then said, “I’m sorry I got mad the other day. You’ve done more for me than anyone else I know.”

“It’s okay, James. I understand.”

“Anyone can join?” he asked.

“Most anyone. If you come on Monday, you’ll see how it works.”

“What if someone I have problems with joins?”

I smiled. “That’s the beauty of it. If someone who bothers you on a regular basis joins, then the harassment stops. If it doesn’t, then they’re out, and action can be taken. This alliance is out to protect people who get bullied, James. It doesn’t matter if it’s because of being gay or being big, or whatever.”

“Okay. I’ll see you Monday then, Brian.”

“See you there, James.”

I watched him walk away with a feeling of satisfaction. It wasn’t past noon yet, and already I felt like I’d done a full day’s work. Dr. Sumner stood by me as I watched the last of the people sign the sheet.

“Very well done, Brian. I doubt professional speakers would have had the same impact as you have this morning. In fact, I know they wouldn’t have. Something like this has to come from a peer to have effect. Otherwise it’s just another adult lecturing them.”

“I hope I accomplished something,” I replied. “It came out as more of a… I don’t know… a warning instead of a proposal for a new club.”

“And it was a warning,” she confirmed. “When we discussed the club yesterday, I hadn’t taken into account what happened in Springfield and other places. Thank you for bringing that back into focus.”

The principal paused for a moment, and I looked at her. She seemed pensive.

“Sometimes we as educators tend to be narrowly focused on what we need to do to present the material. We forget to see you students as people with potential problems beyond a letter grade. That can lead to unforeseen, and sometimes deadly consequences. What happened last year was a good example.”

“What happened last year was stupid,” I countered. “It was Brent’s ego getting out of control and me feeding into it. Those guys who brought the knife and gun… I don’t understand them.”

“Nor do I, Brian,” she said with a sigh. “Part of maturing is learning what constitutes an appropriate reaction to a given circumstance. Some people don’t learn that lesson until well into their twenties. And that is why we’re here – to guide you until you can make that decision.”

“To protect us from ourselves,” I stated.

“Exactly so. For humans, we are our own worst enemy. This is even more true for adolescents, whose brains have not fully matured and whose brain chemistry is in such a flux. The variations can lead to rash actions.”

“Which is why we’re so much trouble?” I asked with a wry grin.

“Not all of you,” she answered with a smile. “Go to class. I’ll talk to you Monday.”

“Thanks, Dr. Sumner.”

“For what?”

“For hearing me.”

“No, Brian. Thank you for making us aware that you needed to be heard. As I mentioned, we sometimes need to be reminded of these things. You’ve certainly done an effective job of that today.”

“Thank you.”

“Now go to class. I need to deal with what you’ve done to my staff,” she remarked with a grin.

I was surprised at the reaction I received the rest of the day. Most people were positive, both in their reception of the club and their discovery of my orientation, if they hadn’t already known. No one who was already in my circle of friends changed the way they treated me. A few additional hostile glances were thrown my way, but as with the others, I simply ignored them. When the day was over, I left school in a much better mood then when I had arrived that morning.

I spent the afternoon doing a light workout. The muscle soreness from the work out earlier had lessened and I felt the need to put my body through its paces. After doing what I could alone, I asked Ray to come out and spot me. He agreed and followed me out.

As I set up a bar for bench press, I asked, “How come you don’t work out, Ray? You have a lot of potential with your body type.”

“Meaning if I worked at it, I wouldn’t be a fat, disgusting slob?” he quipped with a half-grin.

I asked, “Is that what you really think of yourself, Ray?”

“No. I don’t know.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters, Ray.”

“Just shut up and pump out your reps, Kellam.”

When I finished my first set, I continued, “I need a work out partner, and you need to get rid of that flab. What do you say?”

“I fucking hate running, that’s what I say.”

“You don’t have to run. I need someone to lift with me. That’s all.”

“I can’t keep up with you.”

“You don’t have to. You lift what you can. We’ll change the weights around for you. No big deal.”

I lay back down for my next set and finished in good form.

As I sat up again, Ray said, “I don’t know how to lift.”

“Lame, Branton. Lame fucking excuse when you know I can teach you.”

“Yeah, well…”

“Ray, I know you don’t like to look stupid, but I have news for you: you can’t help it with that face...”

“Har-dee-fuckin’-har-har.”

“Seriously, Ray, it’s easy to learn. I can teach you in less than a week, and then you can do the exercises anywhere, not just here.”

“I don’t know, Brian.”

“Why not?”

“What’s the use? To attract a guy? You said it – not with this face.”

“You and Aron break up?”

“He didn’t want to be outed by being with me since I live with you,” Ray said bitterly. “As if no one can tell a queen like that is gay.”

“Are you going to come out?” I asked quietly.

“No reason not to… except that Kevin asked me to stay in the fuckin’ closet.”

“I can understand. One of us on the firing line is enough.”

Ray’s frustration came through clearly. “I want to stand by you, though! What you’re doing is important and I want to be a part of it!”

“You can be, Ray, and you don’t need to be out to do that,” I replied. “Kevin wants to keep you safe.”

“Kevin is a pussy.”

“He’s your dad, and he doesn’t want to see you placed in harm’s way, which you would be if you come out.”

“You’re out…”

“I’m out because I fucked up, Ray! Don’t you get it? I made a huge mistake, and look what has happened? I scared the shit out of everyone. I’ve been in a fight…”

“Where you kicked ass…” Ray interjected.

“Almost two fights. That doesn’t matter Ray – I never should have been in the fight to begin with. And do you know what the worst part of it all is?”

“What – you had to make a speech?” he asked sarcastically.

“No, Ray. The worst part of it all is I lost Pete!” Tears flooded my eyes and ran down my cheeks. My throat tightened. “I lost the one person in the world I loved more than myself because I fucked up. It was my fault, Ray.”

Ray dropped his gaze. “Sorry.”

I lay down again to finish my last set. My form was shot to hell because I couldn’t concentrate, and my arms gave out on the tenth lift instead of the twelfth as they usually did. Ray helped me set the bar back in the stanchion and I sat up, resting my head in my hands, fighting off the sobs. Ray came up behind me and started massaging my neck and shoulders as I struggled for control. A long moment later, he hugged me tightly.

“I’m sorry, Brian,” Ray said in an uncharacteristically soft voice. “I forget what you’ve been through, sometimes. You’re so damn strong that it seems like nothing touches you.” He sat by my side, facing me. “I don’t know what I can do to help you, Brian, but if I could, I’d give my left nut to set things right.”

A short laugh escaped in spite of the pain I was experiencing. Ray’s hand lifted my chin so I was looking at him, a gesture so much in contrast with his usual demeanor. His eyes were soft and his expression unlike anything I had ever seen on him.

“I know I’m not pretty like Pete,” Ray whispered, “but if you need someone to hold you, I’m here. No strings or expectations.”

Ray brought me closer, kissed me on the cheek, and then pulled my head down to his shoulder, where I surrendered the battle for control of my emotions and wept in his arms.