Kevin Jennings Porn Reading List for Schools: Safe School Czar Kevin Johnson GLSEN Porn Reading for School Children

Kevin Jennings, Barack Obama’s failed “safe school czar” has a recommended reading list for children of all ages. What has been revealed is sick and perverted, and until you read this, you simply cannot image what Jennings recommends as appropriate for school children in this country. I implore you to read and pass it around. Contact Congress, your schools and specifically the White House.

Kevin Jennings

The original heads-up came from Scott Baker, co-founder of Breitbart.tv and Co-Host of The B-Cast. He sent the following letter to Jim Hoft at Gateway Pundit, and it was passed to me by concerned reader, carolyne.

Maggie’s Notebook has never printed anything like what you will read below. I AM printing it, because America needs to know. If it is not in print multiple times, you will forget it or ignore it. Once you read this, you will not forget. Our children, grandchildren, nieces, nephews – all are being targeted. You must implicitly trust your school administration and teachers to know that these books will not enter your neighborhood. It will be wise – no matter how you trust your school system, to go Board meetings and bring this deviant reading – coming right out of the White House – to those who can do what they need to do.

—-Warning on Content—–

I [Scott Baker]  was recently approached by a team of independent researchers that
I have known for some time and have come to trust. They prepared this
report involving ‘Safe Schools Czar’ Kevin Jennings and the
organization he founded, GLSEN, and asked that I find a way to help
draw attention to what they uncovered. Knowing that Gateway Pundit has
followed Kevin Jennings since his appointment, as we have on The B-Cast
(here, here, and here), and on Breitbart.tv (here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here and here), I felt this would be an appropriate place for this report.

Warning: The following material is very explicit.

Scott Baker

Co-Founder, Breitbart.tv

Co-Host, The B-Cast

—————————————————————————————————————————

The following is first a pull-out quote taken from what  is more or less an introduction and background on Kevin Jennings. Below this introduction, are specific quotes and page numbers taken from books included on the “reading list” for those in grades 7-12.

Out of curiosity to see exactly what kind of books Kevin Jennings
and his organization think American students should be reading in
school, our team chose a handful at random from the over 100 titles on
GLSEN’s grades 7-12 list, and began reading through.

What we discovered shocked us. We were flabbergasted. Rendered speechless.

We were unprepared for what we encountered. Book after book after
book contained stories and anecdotes that weren’t merely X-rated and
pornographic, but which featured explicit descriptions of sex acts
between pre-schoolers; stories that seemed to promote and recommend
child-adult sexual relationships; stories of public masturbation, anal
sex in restrooms, affairs between students and teachers, five-year-olds
playing sex games, semen flying through the air. One memoir even
praised becoming a prostitute as a way to increase one’s self-esteem.
Above all, the books seemed to have less to do with promoting tolerance
than with an unabashed attempt to indoctrinate students into a
hyper-sexualized worldview.

The introduction and background:

Safe Schools Czar Kevin Jennings was the founder, and for many years,
Executive Director of an organization called the Gay, Lesbian and
Straight Education Network (GLSEN).
GLSEN started essentially as Jennings’ personal project and grew to
become the culmination of his life’s work. And he was chosen by
President Obama to be the nation’s Safe Schools Czar primarily because he had founded and led GLSEN (scroll for bio).

GLSEN’s stated mission
is to empower gay youth in the schools and to stop harassment by other
students. It encourages the formation of Gay Student Alliances and
condemns the use of hateful words. GLSEN also strives to influence the
educational curriculum to include materials which the group believes
will increase tolerance of gay students and decrease bullying. To that
end, GLSEN maintains a recommended reading list of books
that it claims “furthers our mission to ensure safe schools for all
students.” In other words, these are the books that GLSEN’s directors
think all kids should be reading: gay kids should read them to raise
their self-esteem, and straight kids should read them in order to
become more aware and tolerant and stop bullying gay kids. Through
GLSEN’s online ordering system, called “GLSEN BookLink,”
featured prominently on their Web site, teachers can buy the books to
use as required classroom assignments, or students can buy them to read
on their own.

According to GLSEN’s own press releases
from the period during which its recommended reading list was
developed, the organization’s three areas of focus were creating
“educational resources, public policy agenda, [and] student organizing
programs”; in other words, the reading list (chief among its
“educational resources”) was of prime importance in GLSEN’s efforts to
influence the American educational system.

The list is divided into three main categories: books recommended for grades K-6; books recommended for grades 7-12; and books for teachers. (The books on the list span all genres: fiction, nonfiction, memoirs, even poetry.)

The group who chose the “handful of books” to preview explained their actions and intentions this way:

Out of curiosity to see exactly what kind of books Kevin Jennings
and his organization think American students should be reading in
school, our team chose a handful at random from the over 100 titles on
GLSEN’s grades 7-12 list, and began reading through.

What we discovered shocked us. We were flabbergasted. Rendered speechless.

We were unprepared for what we encountered. Book after book after
book contained stories and anecdotes that weren’t merely X-rated and
pornographic, but which featured explicit descriptions of sex acts
between pre-schoolers; stories that seemed to promote and recommend
child-adult sexual relationships; stories of public masturbation, anal
sex in restrooms, affairs between students and teachers, five-year-olds
playing sex games, semen flying through the air. One memoir even
praised becoming a prostitute as a way to increase one’s self-esteem.
Above all, the books seemed to have less to do with promoting tolerance
than with an unabashed attempt to indoctrinate students into a
hyper-sexualized worldview.

We knew that unless we carefully documented what we were reading,
the public would have a hard time accepting it. Mere descriptions on
our part could not convey the emotional gut reaction one gets when
seeing what Kevin Jennings wants kids to read as school assignments. So
we began scanning pages from each of the books, and then made exact
transcriptions of the relevant passages on each page.

Are we exaggerating, or misconstruing quotes that could be
interpreted a different way? No: Read the passages below and judge for
yourself. There’s no wiggle room. The language is explicit, the intent
clear.

To be specific, the books we read were:

Queer 13

Being Different

The Full Spectrum

Revolutionary Voices

Reflections of a Rock Lobster

Passages of Pride

Growing Up Gay/Growing Up Lesbian

The Order of the Poison Oak

In Your Face

Mama’s Boy, Preacher’s Son

Love & Sex: Ten Stories of Truth

We can only vouch for what’s in these 11 books, since these are the
only ones we’ve read through. Are there other books on the GLSEN
reading list that are similarly outrageous? We can’t say for sure, but
it seems very likely. What you see excerpted below is probably only the
tip of the iceberg.

Let it be clear: This issue has nothing to do with gayness or
straightness, which is irrelevant to this report. The point proven here
is that the GLSEN reading list promotes the sexualization of children
in general, regardless of the “orientation.”

And this is not about censorship: It’s about deciding what constitutes
appropriate reading material for children. We’re perfectly OK with
these books existing and being read by adults; we only start
to worry when these books are assigned to children. All sorts of books
are excluded from school reading lists, for all sorts of reasons. Even
many books once considered classics are now considered off-limits due
to language or attitudes now deemed inappropriate. And yet, according
to Kevin Jennings and GLSEN, books about a 13-year-old getting “my cock
sucked and my ass fucked” or about a teenager enjoying the “exquisite
bitter taste” of his friend’s semen are not just acceptable, they’re
highly recommended. As GLSEN’s own site says, “All BookLink items are
reviewed by GLSEN staff for quality and appropriateness of content.”
Really? (Note: GLSEN does advise adults to “review content for
suitability.”)

The following says something very important, and I’ll reiterate it here so that it is not missed. Kevin Johnson, Obama’s Safe Schools Czar stepped down as executive director of GLSEN  last year – BUT according to Breitbart, all of the books were placed on the reading list while he was still at the helm.

Although GLSEN does not address how books get added to its list, it’s
hard to imagine that they are chosen by low-level staffers or
volunteers, with no oversight. Since the list of recommended books is
one of the organization’s primary tools (”The GLSEN BookLink, an online
library of recommended resources, along with the Safe Space program
remain cornerstones of GLSEN’s education work.” source), it’s likely that the books were chosen carefully. Kevin Jennings stepped down as Executive Director last year
after leading GLSEN since its inception, but every single book
mentioned in this report was added to the list while Jennings was in
charge (dates are given for each title’s addition to the list).
Therefore, it’s reasonable to believe he was aware of the addition of
these works – especially since most were added when GLSEN was still
quite small and the Executive Director had a hands-on role in daily
operations.

Below you will find dozens of excerpts taken from books on the GLSEN “Booklink” recommended reading list for grades 7-12
(i.e. for children between the ages of 12 and 17). To prove that these
books are indeed recommended by GLSEN for children, click on each
book’s title to see its individual listing on the GLSEN Web site. And
to prove that each excerpt is transcribed exactly as it appears in each
book, click on the page numbers or the small images along the left to
see scans taken directly of the book pages in question. (Ellipses
[“…”] indicate unrelated passages not included in some of the
transcriptions; click on the full-page scans to see the complete
extended quotes.) Each passage is preceded by a brief summary, given in
italics.

You decide for yourself if you think these are appropriate for kids as
young as 12 years old to read. And then decide if you think the man who
headed the organization responsible for recommending these books to
children should be in charge of school safety in this country.

The following are excepts and page numbers from the books listed. Gauge your response to the pure evil of introducing children to the most adult activities, and advocating the infliction of these activities on children, before reading. There are few among us that will not be violently repelled to think that these stories are intended for our school rooms. GLSEN depends on us not reading and not taking action. Our inaction is what they expect. I hope we can show them differently.

Last warning – last chance to turn back:



Reflections of a Rock Lobster – Page 13

(At the age of six, the author
frequently performed fellatio on his fellow first-graders in the school
restroom, part of a “busy homosexual childhood.”)


My sexual exploits with my neighborhood playmates continued. I lived
a busy homosexual childhood, somehow managing to avoid venereal disease
through all my toddler years. By first grade I was sexually active with
many friends. In fact, a small group of us regularly met in the grammar
school lavatory to perform fellatio on one another. A typical week’s
schedule would be Aaron and Michael on Monday during lunch; Michael and
Johnny on Tuesday after school; Fred and Timmy at noon Wednesday; Aaron
and Timmy after school on Thursday.

None of us ever got caught, but we
never worried about it anyway. We all understood that what we were
doing was not to be discussed freely with adults but we viewed it as a
fun sort of confidential activity. None of us had any guilty feelings
about it; we figured everyone did it. Why shouldn’t they?


Queer 13 – Pages 16 + 17

(A man masturbates and explicitly ejaculates as he sits on a hill overlooking his hometown.)


I sit down on the hard ground and cry a little. I fish my aged cock
out of my jeans as though I can mark the scene with pleasure so later I
can find it and reread it for understanding. Once imagined, it is my
responsibility to jack off in front of it all. The air feels funny on
my cock, which usually squirms like a larva in the darkness; it’s more
sensitive than I am to the prickle of a slight breeze. There is nothing
to arouse me except myself. My tract looks so boring, its emptiness so
lacks potential, that I can almost believe in reality, since here is
appearance spreading out at my feet. It only takes a minute. My crotch
rings like an alarm clock, some pump mechanism kicks in, and after
short flights my sperm falls on the gray dirt. I feet edgy and shallow,
emptied out by the day ahead, and twinges of residual pleasure make me
twitch.

Revolutionary Voices – Page 103

(An illustration about the change
from “boy to man,” showing two Boy Scouts pointing at and looking at
two adult men engaging in anal sex.)

Note from Maggie: this “artwork” removed at the request of the artist

A Process of Change, etching, 38 x 35.5 cm, 1999


Queer 13 – Pages 43, 44 + 45

(A 13-year-old boy has a violent
sexual encounter with an older man, which causes the boy to become
desperate for sex, and he ends up spending the rest of the year
promiscuously getting “my cock sucked and my ass fucked” by “a
seemingly endless supply of dicks” belonging to older men, concluding
with “I really did enjoy those sexual encounters.”)


One day, on the bus to shop class, this ugly fuck of a man sat
behind me and put his foot in the crack of my seat. He was skinny, with
a patchy, pencil-thin mustache that besotted his oily face. I ignored
him for most of the trip. I did notice that he changed buses when I
did, but this time he sat beside me. He tried a little small talk, but
then he suddenly and very nervously put his hand on my crotch. It never
occurred to me to tell him not to. I’m not sure if I agreed to it or
not, but he managed to get me to follow him to a nearby rest room at
another secondary school “to play.” In the bathroom stall, lit by two
scant rows of fluorescent lights, half of them burnt-out or flickering,
he tried to kiss me, but I was too nauseated to do that. He sucked my
nipples and played with my cock. I had no idea what to do. He then
tried to get me to suck his. Somehow I knew this was expected of me,
but I just could not put his ugly, foul-smelling penis into my mouth.
When he forced it in I gagged so hard I started vomiting. Undaunted, he
tried to put his cock in my ass. Thankfully, he came prematurely. He
pulled up his trousers and left me in the toilet stall confused,
frightened, crying, and praying to God for forgiveness of my horrible
sin. I spent a good deal of time locked in the stall, trying to clean
up, trying to wipe the smell of that act off with wet toilet paper, but
I was doused in the stench of that man and what he had done.

This incident should have soured me on men, but it only made me more
confused and needful. One day later, something accidental happened that
would change my life. I discovered that at a urinal I could actually
see someone else’s penis. I was ecstatic and fearful, but I wanted
more. One day, at a local shopping mall, as I was trying to sneak a
peek at penises in the rest rooms, a man at the urinal actually turned
to me and started playing with himself. He flashed me a gold-toothed
smirk and motioned for me to come over. Shocked, I zippered up and ran
out, but the seeds had been laid. The whole world of rest-room sex had
opened itself up to me.

Soon I was spending a great deal of time hanging out in shopping malls
and cruising the rest rooms for sexual encounters. My rest-room
exploits started to be a great burden on my mind. The better part of
the year was spent making deals with God, asking for a sign, then
ignoring and rationalizing everything I perceived to be a sign, praying
for forgiveness, and being obsessed with raging hormones and a
seemingly endless supply of dicks. I believed that it was all part of a
test by God to see if I was a sinner. I was.

I had known before that something was up, and that I was attracted
to men, but this toilet thing was a whole new realm of sin and Satan, a
new level that I had never before imagined. The following years were
spent praying for forgiveness and trying to purge my homosexuality
through prayer and Bible study. While my classmates wondered what sex
was like, content to masturbate over pinups, I was out there having my
cock sucked and my ass fucked. These were grown men I was tricking
with. Some were nice, grateful for a young boy to have their way with.
Some were harsh and mean. There were a few nasty encounters, brutal and
painful experiences, near-rapes, but through it all, I never thought
that I had the ability to say no.

I was scared about what I was doing, scared of God’s judgment and of
being caught in all those rest rooms and parks, but I really did enjoy
those sexual encounters. That feeling of doing it to them and them
doing the same for me was just too damn good.


Queer 13 – Page 13

(The author vividly describes masturbating and ejaculating whenever and wherever possible, at the age of 13.)


Jacking off into the toilet, into the slit between pushed-together beds, into paper-towel tubes (Ugh, my little sister shouts, what’s this stuff?),
in the shower, while standing in the crotch of a tree, while standing
on my head. What belongs to me except the next orgasm? Even shame is
not mine. I can’t afford to fantasize or to connect mind and body.
Strip poker with Mike Cogan: Since we’re naked, we might as well
masturbate. Don’t look, he keeps whining. His orgasm is like him, a pipsqueak.


Revolutionary Voices – Page 220

(A writer is unhappy that she was forced to stop masturbating in public when she turned nine years old.)


I learned the truth about Santa Claus and masturbation in the same
year. I was 9. I had a hunch about Santa, but I had no clue about
masturbation. I mean, I had no clue there was anything wrong with it.
As far as I know, I’ve been masturbating my whole life. But it wasn’t
until 9 that I realized it was an impulse that you had to turn off.
Especially in class. Fourth grade craft time taught me shame.

Revolutionary Voices – Pages 171, 172 + 17

(An interview with a “sex worker”
who praises prostitution as a way to raise one’s self-esteem and have
empowering sexual experiences.)

Minal is a young queer from India and has been a sex worker in
the S/M scene for a year and a half. He has taken a break from sex work
and lives in San Francisco. In this interview Minal talks about his
journey into sex work as a way of uplifting his self-esteem around
body-image issues, his feeling of empowerment doing sex work in drag…

S: How did you get into sex work?

M: Well, before I get into that I have to tell you
how I got into S/M generally, since I used to be a complete vanilla
bottom. I’m gay, by the way; I’m exploring being transgendered, and
I’ve been doing drag for about ten years, on and off. Drag was never a
sexual thing for me, I’ve always had sex “as a guy.” Around March of
last year a friend asked me about rape fantasies—she wanted to know
what my fantasies were. I realized I hadn’t been fantasizing at all.
When I did start thinking about it, my fantasies were all about
whipping. I started reading up on S/M, and it was making me interested
in sex for the first time. Before, I never knew what the big deal was
with sex. I put a personal ad in the paper to do scenes with different
people, and I realized that for what I was doing, I could be getting
good money. I had a lot of friends in the sex industry who were asking
me, “Why aren’t you charging for what you’re doing?”

So that summer I did it for free and learned what I needed to do,
and by November I started putting out ads in the Bay Area Reporter. My
ads were sort of genderfuck: my picture was taken from the neck down in
a corset, fishnets and garter belt. It was a dom-type look. I realized
there weren’t that many guys into doing S/M professionally, and the
ones that were were really butch—so I stood out a lot. It was great. It
was the first time I had really good sex, I was getting paid for it,
and I felt totally in control. It was good, but I was wondering how
many people I was losing by advertising as a fem dom. I started putting
ads online without the fem look and got a lot more response, so I
switched to just having a nude picture in the paper as opposed to a
girlish one. The responses were more than I could handle, which is a
good thing. That’s how I got into sex work, as a way of exploring my
sexuality.

S: How has your self-image improved from doing sex work?

M: I feel a lot more confident and secure with myself. I think that has a lot to do with S/M and coming into my own power.


In Your Face – Page 150

(The author describes how a sudden
and impulsive sexual encounter was the healthiest relationship he’s
ever had, then regrets the incestuous relationship he had with his
cousin.)

But I know in the immediate future I want a very healthy
relationship, because I’ve never really had a healthy relationship. The
closest I’ve had was with a guy that I met at the lake when we lived in
Davenport. I just met him at the lake, and he already had a boyfriend
and stuff. I just walked up to him and said, “Do you want to fuck?” and
we did. For a week. And then I went home because I couldn’t handle it
anymore. The relationship I had with my cousin was very, very twisted,
and I didn’t like hiding it. I mean, he was my cousin, and so it feels
rather disgusting. But I think that you’re gonna fall in love with
whomever you’re gonna fall in love with.


Passages of Pride – Pages 33, 34 + 35

(A 15-year-old boy embarks on an intense sexual relationship with a much older adult man.)

Near the end of summer, just before starting his sophomore year in
high school, Dan picked up a weekly Twin Cities newspaper. Scanning the
classifieds, he came upon an ad for a “Man-2-Man” massage. Home alone
one day, he called the telephone number listed in the ad and set up an
appointment to meet a man named Tom. Tom offered to drive to Zimmerman.
So, over the phone, Dan directed him to a secluded road in his
subdivision. “Stop where the pavement ends,” Dan told him.

A couple of nights later, Dan pulled the broken screen from his
bedroom window and slipped out of the house while his parents slept. He
hurried to the prearranged rendezvous spot, and there, in the dark of
night, he met Tom for the first time, man-to-man. In the back of Tom’s
van, the two had sex.

“He gave me a little shoulder rub and the next thing I knew his
hands were all over me,” Dan remembers. “It wasn’t a bad thing. I
didn’t necessarily know it would turn into sex. But I knew what I was
doing.”

Dan continued his liaisons with Tom throughout the summer and into
the following school year, having sex—usually masturbation and oral
sex—with Tom in his van or his Minneapolis apartment.

Even though Tom was older, almost twice Dan’s age, Dan felt
unthreatened by him. Dan admits Tom was a “troll” in every sense of the
word—an older closeted gay man seeking sex with a man much younger. But
Dan says he was not intimidated by the discrepancy in their ages. “He
kind of had me in a corner in that he knew I didn’t have access to
anything I wanted.” says Dan. “But everything was consensual.”

“He wasn’t exactly a friend,” Dan says of his relationship with Tom.
“He wasn’t exactly a lover. He wasn’t exactly a role model. He wasn’t
exactly anything. What I got out of it was sex, and someone
who made me feel nice for once. Sex was a totally different way to feel
good. It was a very easy way to get away from the pain. I was young. He
brought me down to the city, where I wanted to be. And I was very
young.”


Revolutionary Voices – Page 7

(A poem in which the author fantasizes about amputating his penis in order to become a woman.)

as a little boy growing up, i used ta sit in the bathtub, take the
little spikey thing u put soap on, n lay on it, press my little
pre-pubescent dick on it hard, impale myself, sometimes until i bled.

then i’d take it, bloodied n bruised, n tuck it between my legs,
standing in front of the mirror, pushing the fat that wuz my chest
together, seeing what it would b like ta have cleavage, thinking

perhaps i could escape my fate by becoming a woman, i wondered what
it’d b like ta have a pussy, what it would b like ta cut it off, ta
simply not have it around no more.

__________________________________________________________________________

Reflections of a Rock Lobster – Pages 25 + 26

(Two twelve-year-old boys turn up the volume on a Christian song to drown out the noises of them having sex.)

I began sleeping over at Bob’s house again during seventh grade. His
mother thought we enjoyed a perfectly platonic relationship in his room
upstairs playing games and listening to Jim Nabors records – the only
ones she allowed Bob to hear.

Little did she know that every night I slept over we would turn the
record player loud and have sex to the beat of “Lord, You Gave Me a
Mountain.”
In Your Face – Pages 58 + 59

(The narrator describes how at the age of 16 he began having sex with a 25-year-old man he met at a gay youth group.)

I don’t remember exactly when I started coming out, but I joined
this youth group called Positive Images; it’s the Sonoma County
gay/lesbian/bisexual youth group. I got a boyfriend instantly; he
picked me up right away, right when I joined the group. He was older;
he was twenty-five, I was sixteen. He was just really supportive of me.
I went with him to this gay prom in Sonoma County called the Rainbow
Prom in the middle of May.

So there was one night when I stayed at my boyfriend’s house. I lost
my virginity to him a couple weeks before that, and so I stayed at his
house, and I was feeling good when I went home the next day. It was the
first time that I actually spent the night there and stayed the whole
night. So I went home and I was in a great mood.

__________________________________________________________________________

Passages of Pride – Page 92

(A woman recalls how as a teenager
she had a sexual affair with an adult teacher at her high school, which
greatly boosted the girl’s self-esteem.)

While still in high school, she had an affair with a teacher. “She
was forty-four and had a daughter who was a year younger than me, who
went to my school. Needless to say, it was all very
confusing, but exciting as well. The moment right after we kissed for
the first time, I ran to the mirror and looked at myself. I was
ecstatic. I thought I would look different. I said in a barely audible
whisper, ‘I’m a lesbian.’ About six months later, we stopped being
physically sexual, at my request. I was racked with guilt feelings and
knew that it was out of control. I was terrified of someone finding
out….”

_________________________________________________________________________

Growing Up Gay/Growing Up Lesbian – Pages 93, 97, 98, 99 + 100

(A gay priest recalls a
life-changing incident at the age of ten, when he “felt my penis begin
to harden” after meeting a new friend, after which the author “touched
the flesh of his cock.”)


One summer when I was about ten, my mother and I spent several weeks
at a big resort hotel in the Adirondack Mountains in northern New York
State. …

Strange how all foreboding vanished when I first caught sight of
Jamie checking into the hotel with his mother and father. The desire I
felt for him was sudden and electric. …

As we changed in the dressing room by the swimming pool, I glanced
very quickly to find out what his genitals looked like, but his back
was turned to me as he slipped on his trunks. Still I knew I’d find
out, somehow. …

I remember the fright I felt when there was no more to take off but
my underpants, the strange sense of relief when I stood naked by the
shadowed pool, the throat-tightening excitement of seeing Jamie’s
slight lithe body, as naked as mine.

We tucked our clothes under the embankment. Then, with a whoop,
Jamie dived into the pool. I stood on the pool’s edge, watched Jamie’s
body squirming beneath the water’s surface, and felt my penis begin to
harden.

Jamie broke the surface with a splash and looked at me. A quick grin crossed his face. “Dive in! It’s great!”

I glanced down and saw that my cock was fully erected.

“C’mon, we’ll wrestle. that’ll warm you up.” He grabbed me around
the neck and pushed me back on the sand. The warmth of his body sent
chills through mine. I struggled (although not very convincingly, I’m
afraid) against his grip and we rolled on the sand and I finally
pinioned him on his back, astride him, my hands holding his arms.

He looked up at me. “Uncle,” he whispered.

I released his arms. They glided around my neck, pulling my head
down to his. I stretched full length on top of him, our heads touching.
Our heavy breathing from the struggle gradually subsided. I felt my
penis grow hard against his body, and, pressed against mine, I felt his
grow hard too. I raised my head and looked at his face. He was looking
at me. After a long moment I lowered my head till our lips touched. And
held.

Then I moved over on my side next to him, and my hand reached down,
slowly, until I touched the flesh of his cock. It stiffened still more
and Jamie’s hips stirred. I felt a wonder. I had caused this to happen
to someone else. Someone else felt as I did. I wasn’t alone. There was
Jamie. And now we had our secret.

We shared the wonder of that secret, touching, exploring, responding, till we heard voices—adult voices—calling our names.

__________________________________________________________________________

Queer 13 – Pages 86 + 87

(The author recalls with mixed emotions the sexual relationship he had with his cousin starting at the age of 12.)

Despite my best efforts, someday the artifice of “normality” had to
fall away. It did, early one Sunday afternoon when I was twelve. My
cousin was sixteen.

I put on my blue velour robe and padded down the rickety stairs. My
cousin was watching an old black-and-white movie on our black-and-white
TV set. He wore only his Ewing High School J.V. basketball shorts,
black with waxy yellow lettering. I sat next to him on the couch,
silent. He would occasionally sneak glances at me. The glances grew
longer and longer.

I noticed his slightly parted thick lips. Uncomfortable, I stood up
and went to the front door. I pretended to look out the window up Field
Avenue. The street was empty.

My cousin got up from the couch and stood behind me. He lightly
brushed the soft fabric of my robe. “Let’s get gay,” he fawned in a
mock faggy tone. “Let’s get gay.” He rubbed his huge hands over the
thin fabric that separated them from my behind. He pulled up the robe.

Exposed and naked, my erection to the wind, I wanted to melt into
his arms, to be held by him, to desperately answer the questions my
soul had been avoiding, but I also wanted to shield my eyes from what
was happening.

We went back to the couch, and I felt someone’s hands on my genitals
for the first time. They were boiling—his hands and my genitals. I sat
back and closed my eyes.

My ecstasy from his touch. My relief from loneliness. Momentarily
overcoming fear and shame. Then, the fall. Each of the half-dozen times
we did it over the next four years it would be that way. While we were
in the act, it was good. His heavy brown body lying against mine,
providing the warmth I never thought I would have. He was tender and
sweet. But after I came, shame tumbled on top of me, the pleasure
buried, suffocated. The disgraceful white goo the physical proof of my
spiritual delinquency.

__________________________________________________________________________

Reflections of a Rock Lobster – Page 15

(The author describes his promiscuous sex life while in elementary school.)


Sex continued for me but it was not the same as it was with Billy.
It was always readily available after school, during school, at cub
scouts, at Sunday School or at summer camp, but that certain element
that Billy added was gone.
_________________________________________________________________________________

In Your Face – Page 141

(The narrator describes the sexual relations he had with various adult men when he was 16 years old.)


I was dating this twenty-five-year-old guy. But then we broke up,
because I was messing around with this other guy who was a friend of
his, this twenty-seven-year-old, and I was only sixteen. It wasn’t
really a right thing, I don’t think, because I knew they were only
attracted to me because I was young, and it wasn’t even like they were
attracted to me because of my personality or anything like that. So I
dated the twenty-seven-year-old for a little bit, and then we broke up,
and I got back together with my old boyfriend, and then we broke up
again.

When I was with my first boyfriend, we went to a rave; I felt like
we could dance together and stuff, and we could kiss and it was cool.
But I still felt kind of weird. I used him. And when I was with him, I
was really out. I would hold hands everywhere, kiss in public. But it
wasn’t so much that I wanted to be kissing him as much as I wanted to
be able to be that out; I wanted to get comfortable with it.

I met this one guy in the city, and he came up with us, back up to
Petaluma, and we hung out that night. We just totally talked. He was
this really cool person. We had sex, and it was really good—five hours
of foreplay. That was rad, and I just felt like I could talk to him,
like we could really relate. So he came back down to the city, and then
I called him that night, or I called him the next day or something, and
asked him to come up, and so he rode the bus up, stayed at my house
that night, and we had sex again.

He was just rad; he had the body type that I like, a little pale and
kind of scrawny–kinda skaterish, like a toned-all-over body. Anyway, so
then he went back to the city, and I was supposed to come down to the
city and stay at his house on Friday. I called his house and his
roommate said, “Maddy doesn’t live here anymore; he went back to
Michigan.” He never called me and he’s never called me or written me
since then. It was really fucked. I even think that I am in love with
him because I just think about him every day. I don’t even know if I’ve
ever been in love before this.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Passages of Pride – Page 4

(Beginning at the age of five, a young child has sexual encounters with his playmates.)


Throughout his childhood, from age five on, Derek would sneak off
with a friend into someone’s basement or the woods along the back
alley, where they would take off their pants and play with each other,
usually fondling each other’s genitals. It became habitual.

“At that time, I didn’t quite have a name for it,” says Derek. “It
was something that I liked doing, that felt good, that I wanted to do
as often as I could. The other kids always recognized it as being
something bad and dirty. And all I wanted to know was, When can we do
it again?”


Growing Up Gay/Growing Up Lesbian – Pages 110 + 111

(A man recounts how he had his
first sexual experience at age 12, and then recalls fondly the anal sex
he had at fifteen with a much older man.)


“I just remember, when I was twelve or so, Derek walking into my
room and finding me making out with Timmy Musseo. And he just said
excuse me and closed the door.”

Philip’s jaw dropped. “You were making out with boys when you were twelve?”

“Eleven,” Eliot said. “Geoffrey and Derek only found out when I was twelve.”

“Then how old were you when you first had sex?”

Eliot shrugged. “I’m not sure,” he said. “How do you define sex? If
orgasm is the criterion, twelve. If anal or oral penetration is
necessary, fifteen.”

“And was that with Timmy Musseo?”

“No, no,” Eliot said “Timmy Musseo had a girlfriend by that time. My
first experience was with a much older man, a friend of Derek’s. He and
Geoffrey never found out about it. Probably they still don’t know.”

“How old is older?”

“Oh, let’s see,” Eliot said. “When I was fifteen, he must have been
twenty-nine, thirty. My age now. He came and stayed with me at the
house whenever Derek and Geoffrey went away.”

“Did he seduce you?”

“I seduced him,” Eliot said, and laughed. “Oh, he wanted to for as
long as I did. But I think he was afraid Derek would send him up for
statutory rape or something. I was irresistible at fifteen. I kept
asking him to give me massages, playing the little nubile waif. And
finally–well, he couldn’t hold back anymore.” He sighed. “It was a wild
night. We did everything.”


Revolutionary Voices – Page 205

(A young activist denounces “this white-supremacist, capitalist heteropatriarchy.”)


On Diversity

(Presented at Pride 1997, Olympia, Wash.)

The term diversity has become more than trite these days.
Slap a rainbow flag on your car and you’re well on the way to “diverse”
liberalism. A true commitment to diversity, however, requires a closer
look at the privileges and oppressions simultaneously affecting each of
us and a recognition of both public and private means of resistance. In
many ways I have privilege: I am white, middle-class, and attending
college. These factors grant me certain societally bestowed benefits.
In other ways, I am systemically oppressed: as a woman, as a youth, as
a person with cerebral palsy, as a bisexual queer.

With these
attributes, I fail to meet the optimal requirements for functioning in
this white-supremacist, capitalist heteropatriarchy.

If you are not part of the system in the optimal way (i.e., as a
straight, white, middle-class or upwardly mobile, Christian male), you
pose a threat to that dominant system.


Queer 13 – Pages 222 + 223

(A 13-year-old boy carefully
inspects his friend’s genitals, admiring the size of his penis; then
the author describes each of their masturbation techniques.)


“How old are you, twelve? I had pubes when I was twelve,” Donnie said in disbelief.

“I’m thirteen and I do have some pubes,” I said. “Just not a lot.”

Donnie moved toward me. “‘Let’s see. I bet you’ve got more than you
think.” I started to unzip my fly to show him when his mom yelled again
for us to turn the music down before she came down and did it herself.
I nervously zipped my jeans back up.

Donnie said, “It’s weird. I’m only two years older than you, but
look at mine.” He sat on the edge of his bed and slid his jeans down to
his knees. He pulled on his pubes and showed me how thick his hair was.
He wasn’t self-conscious at all. It felt like he was showing me a
science project or something. He let me examine his dick and pubes
close up. I had never seen that much pubic hair that close before. I
only had a few pubic hairs, but I kept a vigilant watch over them. I
counted them and watched them grow. I knew whenever a new one appeared.
Donnie’s pubes looked so good, so exciting to me. Blood started rushing
around me. I felt warm. I felt happy and hopeful at the thought that
someday soon I would have that much, too. Donnie was proud of himself.
That close, his pubic hair looked like a dense forest. There was a dark
moist smell. Kind of familiar, but different from my own. More like a
man smell than a boy smell. I was in awe not only of his pubes but
because I wanted to have a dick the size of his, with all that hair.
Compared to Donnie’s mature dick with that thick bush at its base, mine
was a naked pencil. I was surprised that his dick was big. He was kind
of overweight, just a big kid really. I told him I thought fat guys had
small dicks. He didn’t get upset that I called him fat. He said
matter-of-factly, “Some of ‘em do.”

He spread the Playboy open on the bed and showed me how he jacked
off. I sat next to him and watched as he spit in his hand and rubbed it
on the head of his dick. Then he wrapped his hand around his dick and
moved it quickly up and down. He didn’t get very hard. It was just a
demonstration. I was too shy to tell him how I did it. When I
masturbated I had to be quiet so I wouldn’t wake up my brothers. I lay
on my stomach and humped the mattress until I came. My sheets always
had yellow crusty stains on them, but my mother never mentioned it even
though she was the one who washed them.


In Your Face – Page 136

(A girl describes how she became “fuck buddies” with another girl while at the same time having a boyfriend.)


The girls I have gone out with have been high school age or a little
bit older. I went out with this girl Jennay, and with her, it was just
total attractiveness. I got to know her on a different level, and we
became lovers. It’s funny to say it, but we didn’t really relate
emotionally. So we sort of became fuck buddies. This was actually going
on at the same time I was going out with Mark, so it was kinda bad.
__________________________________________________________________________________

Queer 13 – Page 17

(The author describes various sexualized public restroom incidents.)


The little man in a checked sports jacket stands too close to me at
the urinal. Is he subnormal? Doesn’t he understand social distance? He
has an accent—British? Cockney? Maybe he’s wearing a bowler? “Excuse
me?”

“Xxxx’x x xxxx xxxx xxx xxxx xxxxx.”

“What?”

That’s a nice cock you have there.” He’s offering
his, a prim pink boutonniere; I can see why he likes mine better. A
nice cock? Is it separate from my body, which is not nice? Separate,
like my beautiful eyes? He’s will-less as a dust bunny, and when I tap
him on the shoulder, he drifts away.

Later, in a smelly gas-station toilet, I realize the wad of toilet
paper left on top of the dispenser is filled with someone’s sperm. Some
pervert left it there, I tell myself wonderingly. To be found, I add.
And recognized. As what? An offering, an assertion? I don’t forget to
be grossed out. I smell it—sure enough, sperm. Consciousness the
predicament, orgasm the escape. I look around for the masturbator as
though I’m dreaming, as though I can hear his I’m coming noises.

________________________________________________________________________________


Reflections of a Rock Lobster – Page 19

(The author mentions how, while in fifth and sixth grade [age 10 and 11], he often had sex with his male classmates.)


Fortunately, even though being homosexual laid heavily on my
conscience during fifth and sixth grades, sex was nevertheless still
available. No feelings of guilt entered my mind when having sex with
other boys because sex was something spontaneous, and a satisfaction of
certain needs.

________________________________________________________________________________
Reflections of a Rock Lobster – Page 23

(At the age of 12, the author
reports being taken aback when the friend with whom he frequently had
gay sex asked him “What would you do if you had some pussy right now?”)


As I entered seventh grade, I noticed that kids were changing physically as well as socially.

Interestingly, Bob Cote and I began a sexual relationship. In fact,
we had sex together quite frequently. So I was completely taken by
surprise one day at the lunch table when he tried to initiate me into
the conversation about heterosexuality.

“How about you, Aaron, what would you do if you had some pussy right now?”
__________________________________________________________________________________

Reflections of a Rock Lobster – Page 23

(At the age of 12, the author
reports being taken aback when the friend with whom he frequently had
gay sex asked him “What would you do if you had some pussy right now?”)


As I entered seventh grade, I noticed that kids were changing physically as well as socially.

Interestingly, Bob Cote and I began a sexual relationship. In fact,
we had sex together quite frequently. So I was completely taken by
surprise one day at the lunch table when he tried to initiate me into
the conversation about heterosexuality.

“How about you, Aaron, what would you do if you had some pussy right now?”

_________________________________________________________________________________
Revolutionary Voices – Page 155

(A memoir in which the author begins masturbating at the age of nine, later bemoaning the culture which said it was not OK.)


I discovered masturbation when I was nine. But because of other
Christian peers and teachers, I learned it was not OK. According to
them, the only time a woman should be sexual was after she got married.
My parents did not talk about sex or sexual orientation. The only thing
my mother told me was, “Don’t get raped.” She did not describe what it
meant to be raped, let alone what it meant to have a healthy
relationship, to have sexual intercourse, or the consequences thereof.
How was I to know how I could protect myself? How could I protect
myself when I wasn’t confident in my own body?

_________________________________________________________________________________

The Full Spectrum – Pages 227 + 228

(A five-year-old girl and a six-year-old girl engage in sex games.)

I am five and Katie is six. Her birthday is in September. Mine is in
June. We are both in kindergarten, she in the p.m. class and me in the
a.m., but we go to day care together. We are best friends.

Today I am going to Katie’s for a playdate.

Katie pulls her shorts off. She is wearing blue and white
polka-dotted Hanes underwear, the kind that I have at home. They come
in a three-pack with a matching blue pair and a matching white pair.
She lies down on her floor and pulls her underwear off over her butt,
and tells me to spank her because she’s the baby and I’m the mommy. It
seems kind of weird and she yells at me to do it. Then she makes me be
the baby and she spanks me, too. She tells me that I should learn how
to French-kiss because boys always do that, so she kisses me and puts
her tongue in my mouth. I roll my tongue hot-dog style, because that is
fun.

Her mommy drives me home, and in the backseat of her white car Katie Frenches me again.

We are in second grade now, and Katie still makes me practice Frenching her.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Queer 13 – Page 148

(A boy avoids a schoolyard fight
in order to engage in “a masturbation marathon” instead, then adds that
he prefers teachers’ bodies to students’ bodies.)


My wrestling partner, fellow lightweight, a boy with “skaggy”
chin-length hair, called me out—dared me to fight him, tomorrow after
school. I agreed to the duel.

His skinny arms were nothing to fear, and yet I stayed home from school the next day and had a masturbation marathon instead.

We’d planned to rendezvous by the locked, parked bikes, near the
ecological simulacrum of a habitat, created by the science teacher to
show us how to respect the planet.

I preferred teacher to student bodies, with a few exceptions.

_________________________________________________________________________________
Being Different – Page 36

(A group of 9- and 10-year-old boys all get erections together in a tent.)


Sleep-away camp lent itself to exploration as well. The summer
between fourth and fifth grade I learned what an erection was. Six guys
in a tent without a parental figure and instructed to go to bed had no
intention of falling asleep until our eyelids felt like anvils. At some
point, the conversation turned to sex. And that same friend who enjoyed
mooning the guys also instructed us, using his own body for visual
proof, as to what an erection was. Soon after, we were all erect, with
very little inkling that what we were doing would be considered by some
to be wrong.
_________________________________________________________________________________
Reflections of a Rock Lobster – Page 24

(The author discusses the psychological issues his sex partner experienced when they were both 12 years old.)


My school life was becoming lonelier. Most of my former friends
ignored me. Bob and I stayed friendly and kept up our sex life
together, but many times Bob also talked about fantasies with females
and salami. Bob felt guilty about having sex with me and pretended that
we never did. It was frustrating because now, more than ever, I wanted
to communicate with someone about my sexuality – but there was no one
available. Although Bob provided sexual stimulation, there was little
other communication between us; he was too inhibited. In fact, one time
he refused to have sex unless we first hypnotized each other into being
different people: he would be a woman while satisfying me, and then we
would switch. I went along with it but felt ridiculous when the two
identities he had chosen for us turned out to be Ann-Margret and Jaclyn
Smith. My part was Ann-Margret, of course.

Bob and I had sex often yet there was always that suppressive air.

__________________________________________________________________________________


In Your Face – Page 126

(The narrator describes how the
other teens in his social circle “have sex all the time” and “go down
to the Castro and pick up guys.”)


With queer kids I meet outside of the youth group, it’s the only
thing we have in common is that we’re gay and we’re young. They just go
to clubs and get fucked up and have sex all the time. They go down to
the Castro and pick up guys. And I know it’s their internalized
homophobia and that kind of stuff and they’re dealing with that.
_________________________________________________________________________________

Passages of Pride – Page 49

(Two second-grade boys engage in sex-play when the adults aren’t looking.)


Troy and Jordan soon discovered they shared a common secret—they
both were infatuated with boys. They would compare their affections for
boys they knew at their school and tease each other about their latest
crushes. Both admired one boy in particular, a second-grader named
Kelly. Kelly was exceptionally good-looking. Troy remembers thinking he
was the type of boy who surely would grow up to be strikingly handsome.
Troy and Jordan vied unabashedly for his attention, pushing and
elbowing to sit by his side during lunch, and showing off during
recess. It was Jordan who won out, finally capturing Kelly’s interest.
He invited Kelly over to his home, where they would roll and tumble
together on an old mattress down in the basement, out of sight of any
adult, kissing and hugging under blankets and sheets, sometimes without
their clothes.

__________________________________________________________________________________


Revolutionary Voices – Pages 43 + 44

(A girl describes how at the age of 12 she announced to her entire elementary school that she is a lesbian.)


Coming Out in Middle School

I first began to come out when I was 11. In terms of my family, I
was fortunate because my parents have always been accepting of my
sexual identity. It was really great to have their backing, especially
considering that a lot of lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender
people don’t have that kind of family support. I come from a political,
staunchly liberal family; I guess you could say I inherited my parents’
socialist genes. However, the school I was going to when I came out was
immensely different from my home situation.

I was in sixth grade and attending a Catholic school in San
Francisco when I came out to a small group of people. (I was actually
raised in an agnostic household, but the Catholic school was three
blocks away from where I lived.) My fellow students had already assumed
I was a queer because I defended queer people and got angry at folks in
my class when they said the word “faggot.” So of course they were
making accusations about my sexuality left and right. Still, I didn’t
feel comfortable coming out to all of them.

During this time I started attending LYRIC, the Lavender Youth
Recreation and Information Center, a wonderful program and hang-out
space for LGBT youth in San Francisco. Just hanging out with other
queer youth and finding a place where I could get support was
incredible. Programs that give queer youth a space to be safe are
really important, and I know that finding LYRIC helped me out a lot.

The next year I was in seventh grade. At that point I was tired of
being harassed, and I had gotten to a place in my life where I could
actually deal with the harassment and stand up to people who hurt me. I
realized I could only be happy if I was honest with the people around
me. So at the age of 12 1 came out to my entire elementary school,
which included grades K-8.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Reflections of a Rock Lobster – Pages 12 + 13

(As a six-year-old, the author became sexually aroused by Batman and GI Joe, and “messed around” with his playmates.)


One day when I was about six, while watching a Batman episode with
Cheryl, I casually commented on the anatomical proportions of Batman. I
knew no reason to stifle my aroused sexual feelings, so I just
mentioned that I liked what I saw. Cheryl freaked out. It was my first
lesson that talking about this subject made people upset.

This was the first time I had spoken of my sexual thoughts although
I had been having those thoughts for as long as I could remember.
Already I was undressing my GI Joe dolls, and I had messed around with
some of my male playmates, but it never crossed my mind to mention my
feelings to anyone.


_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Queer 13 – Page 228



 

(Two 11-year-old boys sneak into a
school closet to have a sexual encounter, but are interrupted by a
teacher before they can begin.)


Something was in the air, and it wasn’t just pot smoke. But at age
eleven I was alert to it, sniffing it out like a caged animal keenly
sensing freedom. That year was an awakening for me. Puberty struck like
violent spring weather. The boys of my new school, East Meadow
Elementary in Palo Alto, were sexual boys, and I had never been cast
among sexual boys before. It’s not that they were having sex; rather,
they radiated sex, its power and allure. We were a school of boys
coming into sticky heat. We got hard in our pants, grabbed at one
another’s crotches, traded sex drawings we sketched covertly during
class. We talked solemnly about the mysterious and exciting changes
happening to our bodies, the public hair some of us were beginning to
sprout, our nipples that felt strangely sensitive. Overnight we became
achingly aware of our penises.



In the school library there was a supplies closet where some of the
boys, it was rumored, went when the library wasn’t in use. One spring
afternoon, as Lex Bancroft and I, unsupervised, shelved books—an honor
bestowed from time to time on A students—he confided to me that he and
Brian Freeman had gone to the closet the week before. The window shades
were down to indicate the library was closed, but still the afternoon
light suffused the room with a tender glow. Lex hooked his thumbs
through the belt loops of his jeans and splayed his fingers against his
pelvis as if in triumph. Did I want to go? he wondered.

Those of us who had not been to the closet could only speculate
about what, exactly, went on in there. I felt a bright spasm of
longing–everything in the room seemed at once vague and luminous; we
were on the verge, I sensed, of something truly amazing–when the door
opened and our teacher, Mr. Bouchner, appeared to tell us the news that
Martin Luther King had just been assassinated in that faraway city
where I had grown up.


_________________________________________________________________


Okay, I’m done with this, and if you can believe it, there is more. You can read the remaining excepts at Gateway Pundit.


Again, I encourage you to contact the White House, Congress and the schools in your area. And I leave you with this question, once again: Forgetting the gay and straight issue, is this appropriate – ever? If every story was of straight relationships, would it be appropriate? Of course not, and so why should it be appropriate in any circumstance? Let’s get this man out of the White House. It must be done.