Thankful for these people

Yesterday, I named names of those who wronged me. Now, I'll be naming names of those who made the difference in my life during the same period. Another reason to love teachers.

Michelle Timmerman. A good woman who taught me the goodness of people. She, in my mind, was a saint. She embodied patience, love, understanding, empathy, and caring.

Walt Waitman. He wanted to make sure that I could achieve my full potential. He knew that I could be someone if I applied myself.

Ronald Ott. He gave me pride in my ethnicity, and non white. I felt like a nephew in his hands. He was tough, but he was fair.

Dorothy Rosenburger. If I had listened to her, I would have had my career as a performer a lot faster than I am. She believed in my abilities as a perfomer. I wish I had listened to her.

Rex Martin. The one that propped me up during my elementary school years. At times, it felt like he was my only friend. His encouragement and genuine caring made the rough times bearable.

Norman Charouhas. The first person that realized I was gay. He recommended that I read, The Front Runner, by Patricia Nell Warren. I didn't know the book was about two runners, who just happened to be men, who loved each other. I actually have the Virgo sign tattooed on my right shoulder as a remembrance of that book.

Jock McLaughlin. The one that told me that I could be a powerful force if I could get my reading and speaking skills to sync together. One of the assignments he handed out was to decide which was more horrific, the murder of 6 million Jews or the systematic murder of 6 million Native Americans. I answered 6 million Jews. But after a few years had passed, I realized that I had failed the lesson. I had missed the point: Both were systemically eliminating peoples and cultures, just because they were different. I caught up with him, and told him that. I hope that it pleased him that I got the point.

Nancy Johnson. The person who helped me through coming out. She put up with my shenanigans and falling asleep in class, and was supportive.

Juli Jaffe. The person that inspired me to become a journalist. (Why I'm not is another story, and has nothing to do with my emotional state.) The person, at great risk of her job, defended me to the death when I came out.

So I am thankful that these men and women where there for me, and taught me what I needed to learn to be a better and stronger person. While they couldn't stop the bullying, they gave me the tools to be a successful adult.

Thank you so much. I will never forget you. I will always love you for the difference you made in my life.