KarMel Scholarship 2007

 

Runner Up in the “Written” Category

“A Letter to Terry”

By Lizet Mendoza - CA

 

 

Desciption of Submission: “It is a letter to my lesbian best friend, describing the hardships she encountered as a lesbian at 16 years and explaining my feelings for her.”

 

Biography:  Lizet is a second year student in UCLA.  She is majoring in physiological Science an hopes to eventually become a pediatrician.

 

Why Karen and Melody Liked It:  We liked how Lizet was able to share her personal story about her best friend who struggled to accept herself.  

 

 

 

My Dearest Terry,

 

     I Miss you and your laughter; I miss the way we joked around about things and spent late nights conversing; I miss the way you comforted me in times of need and told me stories to cheer me up.  I miss you; you were the greatest friend I could ever have.  I remember the first day I met you; those friendly brown eyes and that cheerful smile that greeted me from across the lunchroom that first day of high school, freshman year.  I was so shy and lonely, and I felt awkward wearing those last season Nike shoes, but you did not seem to notice or care.  You came up to me, confident and joyful with that big amiable smile and introduced yourself.  From that moment on, we were inseparable.

 

 

     You made school so enjoyable.  I remember walking with you from class to class, arms cuffed as we stared at the popular girls and silently joked around.  I loved sitting together at lunch, eating our bean burritos, laughing and crying over typical high school drama.  Those daily after school walks to the park made the days even more memorable.  I remember lying there on the cool green grass, staring up at the puffy white clouds with you, wondering why I had been so lucky to meet such an awesome person.  Remember how you would always come over to my house to watch “Friends” and surf the Internet for pictures of Blink 182?   Those were the good old days; just you and I, having fun without a care in the world.

 

 

     Freshman year passed us by in a flash and sophomore year came with more homework and new teachers, but we managed to get through it together.  That year, you made it into the girl’s varsity basketball team; I was so proud of you and very excited.  I loved sitting in the stands at every game, jumping and shouting your name as you ran like the wind from side to side, dribbling that ball.  You became so popular among the athletic crowd, but that did not change you.  We had so much fun that year, just the two of us, going out every weekend, to the movies, the mall, basketball games, baseball games.  I remember our fun slumber parties, how we would prank call people all night long and watch old black and white movies until our eyes gave out.  I miss those days, when everything felt so uncomplicated.

 

 

     I will never forget the day our lives changed; that sunny morning in summer vacation, when you told me you were gay.  I remember how you just burst into tears right in front of me, as you described your inner feelings, confused and scared.  I too felt confused, for I had no idea you were attracted toward women or that you had been hiding beneath a façade for so long.  I did not know what to do or how to understand, but you were my friend, so I tried.  I remember talking with you that entire night, hearing you weep with sadness, as you described your love and lust for me; I remember how you cried and cried, judging and hating yourself for having such sinful thoughts.  You were only 16 years old, facing the confusion of sexual identity and feeling all alone in a heterosexual world.  I felt uncomfortable hearing all this, but our friendship was immense, nothing could tear our bond apart, not even this.  I admired your courage for coming out about your sexuality, to me and to everyone, but I deeply regret the sadness it brought to you.

 

 

     My dear Terry, nobody knows you the way I did, so when people at school started hearing stories about you being a lesbian, the only lesbian at Wilson High, they freaked and judged you harshly.  I remember that junior year, such a horrible year, how people began teasing you, taunting you, looking at you with disdain.  I would hear girls talking about you in the restroom, people whispering things behind your back.  I remember that day after lunch when we walked to your locker and found it vandalized with the word “dike” all over.  We thought this was just a phase that it would all go away, but it just grew worse.  People began teasing me too just for being your friend.  A group of girls followed me home one day; they called me a “queer,” a “dike,” and a “tranny” all the way to my house, yelling it over and over.  I felt so sad that I cried myself to sleep that night, asking myself why people can be so cruel.  The following days grew worse; we both felt the stares and heard your name everywhere; even teachers began acting differently toward you.  I am sorry about how your own family reacted; how your mother ripped up your baby pictures and stopped speaking to you, how your own little brother could not even look at you anymore, and how your dad stopped being your dad.  My own family began asking questions about you and my sexuality, wondering if I too was a lesbian.  I never told you this, but  they wanted me to stop talking to you, to stop being your friend, but I did not listen.  I saw how you stood alone against so many, but you kept coming to school despite the ridicule that awaited, and you tried your best not to cry, instead you smiled.  I knew you needed a friend now more that ever, so I stood by your side, despite everything and everyone.

 

 

     I wish I could have stopped your pain; I wish my friendship could have been enough to make everything better, but even though you seemed okay, I knew you were not.  Day after day the kids teased; they passed notes about you in class, they ganged up on you during lunch, and constantly continued to make fun of you and our friendship.  I remember how you were so brave; how you stood up for me when two snobby girls ganged up on me in the lunch line, calling me a “faggot bitch.”  I have no idea how you could endure so much for so long.  I tried to comfort you, but you kept telling me you were okay; you kept smiling, acting as if nothing were happening.  I could not understand how you could smile when so many people, including your family were so cold toward you.  As the days passed, I noticed that smile started to fade and you started to look empty; I tried talking to you, but you just stayed quiet; I even joked around, but you did not laugh.  You stopped coming to school and even ignored my phone calls.  I did not know what to do or how to help.  I figured you just needed your space and with time, you would be back feeling better, but I was very sad to find out you would never come back.

 

 

     My mother woke me up the morning of April 23rd 2005 to tell me you had slit your wrists with a razor and died.  All I could do was cry.  I felt so sad and so sorry.  I am sorry that I was not a better friend to you; that I did not stop everyone from hurting you the way they did.  I just stood by your side, but I did nothing.  I hated everyone for the intolerance they showed toward you our junior year; for their harsh words and actions.  I do not know why people could not see that you were the same person you had always been; you were still Terry, a sweet smart girl who got along with everyone.  To this day I cannot fathom how your own family turned against you, just because you were gay.  I could see the regret and sorrow in your mother’s eyes at the funeral; I saw the guilt she felt for your death, and I did not feel any sympathy for her.  You stood up against so many people; against your own family, your teammates, and your peers and in the end, it was just too much to handle.  I love you my good friend; you were such a beautiful person with a bright spirit and it brings me so much sadness to remember how your life was cut short by so many ignorant evil people.  I am sorry I did not do more; I am sorry I could not stop you from killing yourself.  I regret not walking to your house to talk to you that night; I regret thinking everything would be okay.  I hope you know that I did not care about your sexuality; that I tried to be the same friend to you as I always had been.  Please remember that you will always be in my heart and I will always love you.  You were the greatest friend I could ever have. 

 

Rest in peace Terry.

 

Sincerely,

Lizet Mendoza

 

 

 

 

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