Look around, everywhere you turn is heartache. It’s everywhere that you go.
Last night I was idly surfing the web as I waited for today’s video to upload. I noticed a New York Times article titled, “In Suburb, Battle Goes Public on Bullying of Gay Students.”
You try everything you can to escape the pain of life that you know.
The article was about Anoka, the largest school district in Minnesota, which has a pervasive bullying problem that focuses on students that are perceived to be gay or lesbian, or come from LGBT homes.
(Apropos of nothing (or everything) the district is partially situated in Representative Bachmann’s Congressional district.)
Several students and their families have brought a lawsuit against the district, in part charging that, “district staff members, when they witnessed or heard reports of antigay harassment, tended to ‘ignore, minimize, dismiss, or in some instances, to blame the victim for the other students’ abusive behavior.”
When all else fails and you long to be something better than you are today…
The Anoka School District has seen eight suicides in the past two years. At least two of the students were gay, and possibly half of them had been known subjects of LGBT-focused bullying.
I know a place where you can get away: it’s called a dance floor, and here’s what it’s for.
Now the parents, families, and friends of these children will have their young image suspended forever in time, ageless and smiling, a pose that can never be unstruck.
Come on, vogue.
.
All you need is your own imagination – so use it that’s what it’s for.
I don’t think it’s a spoiler to confess that I have plans for Madonna’s catalog for beyond this 30 for 30 Project, which is why I’ve been studiously avoiding her hits thus far. However, when it came to 1990 my list kept coming back to “Vogue.”
I tried to choose another song for 1990. I really did. Fans on Twitter suggested “Nothing Compares 2 U.” I spent a day trying to cover it, but I simply hate the song. I’m unable to let go of my eight-year-old’s obsession with the fact that it was ensconced at number one for five weeks while the more deserving “Vogue” waited patiently for its spot at the top.
Go inside for your finest inspiration. Your dreams will open the door.
I decided that if I was going to let Madonna into this project, I couldn’t try for perfection. My cover had to be something else entirely. In the spirit of the Material Girl, I turned it into a deliberately silly game of dress-up, donning some of my still-surviving (and surprisingly fitting) glam clothes from high school and doing a bit of dancing.
If I had read the article a day or two ago you might be watching a very different version of “Vogue” in this post. Something nearer to “Nothing Compares” – a dirge-like ballad that merges sorrow and joy.
Maybe I’ll still record it that way. For now, you get this ridiculousness. I hope you enjoy it.
(Watch me cover “Vogue” on YouTube. For more info on my 30 for 30 Project, visit my intro post or view the 30for30 tag for all of the related posts.)
It makes no difference if you’re black or white, if you’re a boy or a girl.
Take a long look at what I’m wearing in the video. That’s what I wore to high school, daily.
One of the plaintiffs in the lawsuit is a 14-year-old boy named Kyle Rooker, who is perceived by bullies as being gay because he wears glittering accessories and belts out Lady Gaga tunes in his school’s halls. He’s been subjected to humiliating bullying that the school has done little to stop. Beyond that, teachers are under strict orders not to teach or speak on gay rights, history, or acceptance – thanks to a large Christian influence on the district’s policies.
If the music’s pumping, it will give you new life.
In my born again Christian grade school I was a tiny stick-figure of a boy who hated playing sports and carried around a cassette tape case full of Madonna. It wasn’t the reason I was mercilessly teased and bullied, but I’m sure it wasn’t helping.
In middle school all the other boys said I walked with a switch and teased me because of how I cross my legs. It was the first time I ever heard the word “gay” slung as an insult. I changed the way I walked, but kept crossing my legs.
You’re a superstar.
In high school I wore skin-tight vinyl and body glitter, and painted my lips pale white – all to attend calculus class. Once in high school an older kid shoved me up against a locker, trying to intimidate me. I told him to go fuck himself.
Yes, that’s what you are.
In college I started to wear tight, low-rise jeans and stylish button-up shirts. Once at a party I mentioned I had worked as a summer camp counselor, and a guy said, “I thought people like you weren’t be allowed to work with little boys.” Ross offered to kill him for me, but I declined.
You know it.
Three years ago a neighbor defaced and vandalized the front of our house because I – the “queer” – got too fresh with him.
Men sometimes harass or threaten me from passing cars if I walk a certain way. I still won’t play the open mics at some bars because I know they won’t like it when I cover Madonna.
Come on, vogue.
.
Beauty’s where you find it, not just where you bump and grind it.
It has always been a fact of my life that being who I am and saying what I feel gets me teased and bullied. That’s fine. I’m strong, and I don’t have to contend with the stigma of half a nation being set against my love life like some of my friends do, so hit me with your best shot.
I don’t know what I would do in Kyle’s place. Stop being me? Ditch the sparkles and singing and try to be more of a boy?
I don’t know. I hope he’s singing “Born This Way” in his bullies’ faces at the top of his lungs.
Soul is in the musical – that’s what I feel so beautiful. Magical. Life’s a ball.
In June of 1990 my mother took me to see Madonna’s Blonde Ambition tour as a reward for doing well in third grade. She was my favorite pop star.
So get out on the dancefloor.
We sat next to a pair of men who, in retrospect, were clearly a gay couple. I didn’t care. I thought it was cool that two older boys liked Madonna as much as I did. They thought it was cool an eight-year-old boy wanted to see Madonna and his mom decided to let him. Madonna closed the show with “Vogue.” All four of us were happy.
Come on, vogue.
It gets worse and then it gets better.
Let your body move to the music.
Excellent post. Thank you for writing it (and please tell me you’ll share it, in some form, with an even broader audience). Have you thought about getting involved with It Gets Better? Kate and I keep meaning to make a video… your post has reminded me that we need to get on top of that.
Stories like these need to be shared with young people who perhaps don’t possess the strength (and venom) of Back Then (or Here and Now) Peter.
I vacillate on doing an It Get’s Better project video, first because I’m not sure what to say, but second because I’m never entirely sure that it gets better.
In high school I could say go fuck yourself and walk to class. Now I’m afraid if I play a Madonna song in a bar some drunk guy might try to beat me on my way out.
PERFECT!
Fair enough. People suck. And I am angry that there’s anywhere you’d feel afraid to play Madonna.
There must be something on which you could focus of IGB. Although there’s a lot of focus on bullying and how these kids are perceived, I feel like a lot of the problems also lie in how they perceive themselves. What about focusing on body image as a struggle you overcame that eventually… well, got better (it seems? I hope.)? I’m sure there are plenty of flamboyant tweens starving themselves to fit into vinyl pants and hating themselves when they don’t think their ass looks good enough in said pants. I know someone who can convince them that they can be healthy and still rock the vinyl and shake the ass with reckless abandon. ;)
Obviously, this is one of many examples. At any rate, I love this post.
You’re such a brave person and it’s so upsetting and horrible that you’ve had to deal with this. Inevitably, every time I stumble to your blog I get linked to another post from the past, then another…and the whole time your message is clear. You are you. You’re not ever going to be anyone or anything else and you’re proud of that. As you should be.
You really are an incredible person and I think it takes bravery to stand out in a crowd, glittering, shining, singing, playing guitar and being whoever the hell you want, haters be damned. So there.
Also, hell yeah Madonna!
Lska, you’re totally right – I think my “gets better” is that you can’t always change the world, but you can learn that you don’t have to change yourself to be a part of it.
Also, my ass is in the best shape EVER. I’ve been maintaining at post-anorexia pre-college-pudge goal weight for three months now (thus the pants :)
Allie, I don’t know about brave. I just keep doing what I do, which it sounds like comes through loudly and clearly to you as a newer CK reader – which is awesome.
FYI, I will never turn down an invite to a Madonna dance party, acoustic or otherwise.
Congrats on the ass. :)
I think you’ve hit the nail on the head. I mean, isn’t that the crux of it? Feeling so comfortable with yourself and in yourself that it doesn’t matter what’s going on outside of you; and, once you’ve found and owned that comfort, your eyes are open to realize that others are seeing (and adoring!) the awesomeness that is you, too.
That’s when you realize that it gets better. No, that it IS better!
Great, we’ve figured out your video/message. Now what about me?? ;)