Dear Councilman Burns,

I am a 62 year old gay man who now resides in San Francisco, California. I am writing to thank you for your courageous heartfelt appeal on behalf of gay teens and others who may contemplate suicide because of bullying. I was so moved by your personal story, I wept the first five times I watched it. But then, I had to watch it again, because the parallels to my own life were so unbelievable. Each viewing brought more clarity to my own life and struggle. I understand that your purpose in making this video was very focused and deliberate. From watching your delivery, I am also moved by the unintended affect on yourself in a very positive healing way.

But the effects of your selfless act of courage are so much bigger than what you had originally intended. You have put your finger on a problem that involves the reputation and the integrity of Fort Worth, the state of Texas and the entire nation. You have opened a dialog about what it means to be Christian in America and the responsibility that we all bear in supporting the concept of freedom of religion. You have also opened the possibility for all of us to understand that the concept and execution of bullying goes far beyond the school campus, including work places, religious institutions, the internet and every other aspect of our everyday lives. Yes, it affects those in their teens more than those of us who have become older and wiser with thicker skins. But the hatred and ignorance that drives it affects everyone of every age! I would like to share my personal transformation, with much deserved gratitude to you.

My sister’s family moved to Fort Worth in 1971. Since then it has been a second home for me. When I moved to San Francisco with my partner Rob in December, 1981, Fort Worth was the stop on the way to our new home. When Rob died in 1995, it was the place I ran to in order to heal and put my life back together. When my niece Cyndi, from Fort Worth, died from lung cancer in 2000, I was there at her bedside. Whenever I spoke to others of my second home, Fort Worth, I was always quick to point out that Cow Town USA was a very cultured place with world class museums, music and entertainment. During the nearly forty years of personal interactions and relationships with residents of Fort Worth, I experienced first hand, the true meaning of Southern Hospitality.

But because of my extensive international travel and my other life in San Francisco, it was impossible to ignore the other side of my second home. In 1972, in Sansom Park, I was roughed up by two police officers, beaten over the head with a flashlight by one of them and spent the night in jail, for no other reason than because I was gay. This was just a few years after my own experience in High School when bullying also brought me very close to contemplating suicide. So over the four decades of relationship with Fort Worth, I have been forced to live two lives there. One life openly with my close friends and family and another life in public, where I always looked over my shoulder. So when I read of the police raid on a gay bar in Fort Worth in the summer of 2009, I shrugged my shoulders, thinking “absolutely nothing has changed.”

But now you, my dear man, have given me hope! The first time I watched your video, I shared your belief that perhaps you might suffer political ramifications for your selfless act. But then, at the end of your presentation people stood to applaud! In that single moment the ridiculous contradiction between my personal relationships and my life in public became more apparent, begging me to stand with you in calling for an end to the insanity.

Fort Worth is also known for being part of the Bible Belt. The positive side of this was what I experienced as Southern Hospitality. The negative side was what I would characterize as institutionalized bullying. Your call to compassion is also a call for all Christians who believe in the example of the life of Christ’s compassion, to rise up and denounce those who twist religion into the insane concept of a God who condones hatred, while denouncing some forms of love. By your own example, you have also called on us to conduct this dialog without calling each other names. I’m putting my bets on a familiar bumper sticker slogan often seen in Texas. “What would Jesus do?”