For weeks before hitting the road with Out of the Dorm Closet, I pictured what that first day setting out would look like. I would wake up filled with joy and excitement; our truck would be packed and organized; my hair would be perfectly coiffed; I would sit in my favorite nook in the woods and record my first video blog as a farewell to our home and welcoming to the journey ahead.
The day we departed did not resemble that daydream in any way. I had a few hours of sleep after packing into the wee hours of the morning. Disheveled and half awake, I alternated between running out in the rain to shove our belongings into the truck with throwing up and crying. I fluctuated between pushing myself to start this journey and breaking down in fear over leaving behind what had been our home. Once my stomach settled and I stopped crying enough to drive, it finally felt like it was now or never. I started the ignition.
The reason I am mentioning the first day of our journey is that it taught me a valuable lesson, although it took a while for this lesson to sink in. For much of the journey, I had expectations of what the trip was supposed to look like. We would visit hundreds of schools; our sponsors would all throw money at us; we would change the world one mile at a time. In reality, most of the schools were closed already for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Schools that were open never responded to our efforts to meet with them. Those we did see, caused us to question if what we were doing was really making a difference, and we didn’t hear back from the potential sponsors.
It was through this roller coaster of emotions and many miles on the road that inspiration struck. I was sitting in a hotel lobby in Denver (prior to altitude sickness), sipping coffee, determined to write about the schools we had been able to visit. In this moment, it occurred to me that our experience as consultants could be used in a better way. I started writing out a step-by-step pamphlet that schools might use to evaluate their LGBTQ centers for themselves. If they want to grow as a center they can, and they could do that without needing us to be there. Simply reporting what schools are currently doing is something that exists already. It also doesn’t address all of the issues we came across.
Our hope is that this resource will prove helpful to schools and LGBTQ youth around the globe. At the very least, creating it will give us a chance to make a difference and remind us that life doesn’t always look like we think it should.
As a wise mentor of mine once said, if I spend all my time looking for something that is the color blue, I might miss the pink one that is right in front of me.