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You wrote: "She's only 17, and I don't think she really understands how offensive that can be to some people..."
I'm sorry, but there's no such thing as "only 17." By the time I was 17, I was getting chased down by girl gangs who thought they smelled something "different" about me. By the time I was 17, I'd lasted two years in a monogamous relationship with another girl, about which we told absolutely no one.
Never mind the wave of nausea I felt the morning we arrived at school to find some vandal had carved LEZ into the paint on her locker door. Never mind that we spent the rest of our senior year wondering which one of us was going to be dragged into the girls' restroom and get the shit kicked out of us -- and by whom.
Today, I work as needed on behalf of the Gay-Straight Alliance of my old high school. These kids range in age from 15 to 17. I admire all the GSA students -- the gay kids for having the courage to come out (and to demand their equality be recognized), and the straight kids who, to a person, explain that they belong to the GSA because they cannot abide by the injustice leveled against gay youth. As one straight 16-year-old said in a public statement (at a press conference, and later at a city council meeting), high school is hard enough when you're straight -- she can only begin to imagine how much more stressful and isolating it is when you're gay.
My favorite student at the moment is a 15-year-old named Tony. Tony is a very thin, very tall boy with shaggy dark hair and a quietness about him that belies a rapier-sharp wit. But while Tony is a smart, funny boy once you get to know him, he is shy at first, and not the sort you would expect to make a lot of noise about anything.
I met him in February, and he told me then and there that he had just come out to his mother the night before. While that is a major milestone for any gay person, I was especially impressed because Tony's parents -- and Tony himself -- are Russian immigrants.
To my amazement and great pride, Tony stood up and made his own statement at the aforementioned press conference and council meeting. You could see how nervous he was, but he got through it just fine -- and in fact made one of the best points I'd heard all evening: That in Russia, gay people would never dare dream of standing up for their own rights -- at best, they would be laughed off the street. When he and his family came to America, and Tony discovered the GSA, and began to understand that gay people could stand up for themselves, he was just... so... happy.
Since then, however, having experienced American homophobia firsthand, he had begun to think that maybe Russia and the United States weren't so different after all.
Why am I telling you about Tony? Because Tony is one of dozens of teenagers I know, right this minute, who have never been "only 17." Age is no excuse -- unless we're talking "only ten" or "only five." But even then, I've got a five-year-old and a seven-year-old in my life who have never questioned the existence of their American Aunty they don't see more than once a year, any more than they question the existence of their Aunty who's been around all their lives.
Bigotry doesn't just happen. It's a learned response, and something has influenced your stepdaughter over the past 17 years, whether it's the friends she hangs out with, a bigoted parent, or something else entirely.
The point is, the offensive bumper sticker isn't the problem; it's only a symptom. You can make her remove it, or do it yourself, but that's not going to cure the underlying disease.
The real task at hand -- and this is where you really have your work cut out for you -- is to find out what made her so insensitive and bigoted in the first place, and then attempt to reverse the damage.
I can't possibly have a clue about why she is the way she is -- but as part of the remedy, I would strongly suggest a mandatory visit to her own high school's GSA (or any LGBT student union -- all universities have them), with you along for the trip, so she can put a face to the subject of her own bigotry, and, more importantly, listen to real stories from real people.
Or you could always sit her down in a room with foreigncorrespondent and me while we tell her our story. That, of course, will be impossible for some time, since my partner and I have not been together on the North American continent for more than four and a half years.
Why not? Because of ignorant bigots who won't let people like us get married.
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