We All Lost So Much and I Still Feel It

In high school, I ran for student body office, not because I had any idea of what I would do if elected, but because I didn’t see other ways to be important or to belong. I lost sophomore class president by four votes to my friend Aviva Simon. 

Being so uncharismatic, it still puzzles me that I won in the 11th grade and became Commissioner of Spirit. This means that I made sure there were abundant banners around campus before games and supplied more to students who showed up for our football, basketball, baseball, and track events. I also oversaw the rallies we held in the gym on Fridays. 

I was an insecure, socially awkward, younger, and smaller boy than others. Still, you probably wouldn’t have noticed my inadequacy because a small group of also-socially-inept folks surrounded me, and we made it happen together. One of them was a bit more world-wise than most, so I relied on his judgment time and again. For instance, when we were about to play against Santa Clara, a nearby Catholic School, he recommended against my idea to make a sign that would say, “Crucify the Saints.”  

Just out of high school, Tony stepped in front of a train. He was a dear friend who modeled kindness for the rest of our small group of friends in student government. This was the 1970s, and before I knew what “gay” was. I still sometimes wonder what the world missed out on, in Tony, and all the Tonys.

There is no doubt in my mind that throughout history, humankind has lost some of its best to suicide by those who could not fit in.

There is no way for me to verify, but some of Donny Hathaway’s friends speculated that he took his life because he was gay.

Donny Hathaway. Think about that for a moment. At the peak of his career, this artistic genius said “goodbye” to the world in his prime. I took it personally even though I never met this giant of a performer. 

We lost so much. I still feel it.