Never again

I remember crossing the George Washington Bridge to start my life at Barnard. Me, my two uncles, mom, and all my worldly possessions piled in to a white mini van and headed down 95 toward the city of dreams. I was full of hope and laughter. The sun shined so brightly on my head that day.

And then there was a boy who recently headed down 95, walked across the George Washington Bridge, and leapt to his death. With cars speeding by in the mid-morning rush, strangers scurrying across the path toward big city opportunities, he inched closer and closer to the edge, and jumped. Did his mother know that she had touched him for the last time?

He could not be gay in this world and be free. Only some of us are brave. Today, under the same sun and same net of sky, I will be brave for him. Never again.

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