Profile Article for Class

Bob so kindly pointed out that I have only blogged once this month and considering I have to write for class, which is what's keeping me so busy, I can just copy and paste that onto here. I wrote this article about a friend of mine I met in my LGBT Spirituality class last semester. She's super intriguing and inspiring. This will have you occupied for a while.

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Meagan Buford had her voice taken away, so now she is giving a voice to the deaf. As a senior in high school, the now 22-year-old began dating a female member of her rugby team. As the news of her new relationship spread, she was not only rejected by her family but shunned by her church. Today her experience propels her to help others who feel lonely or rejected.

From seventh grade to graduation, Buford was at church every Sunday and Wednesday, attending every youth retreat and ski trip. “It was either Jesus or sports,” she said. Buford also mentored younger girls. The girls would ask if they could sit and talk with her and the answer was always, “Yes.” Buford heard stories from girls who cut themselves and had been sexually abused, stories the girls’ parents knew nothing about. These parents, however, were some of the first to cast stones at Buford when she came out of the closet.

“They said I couldn’t mentor their kids because I’m gay,” she said. Three of her leaders from YoungLife, a Christian organization, told her they thought it was wrong that she was gay, and she was stripped of her leadership position at her church. “I still had an understanding of who I was and what I believed,” she said.

High school friend Carly Wright, 22, said she wasn’t too surprised when she found out about Meagan’s girlfriend. “I always had a suspicion,” she said. Though few and far between, Buford was lucky to have friends like Wright to accept her. “I believe in equal rights,” Wright said. “Love knows no gender in my opinion.”

In high school, Buford wanted to enter a profession where she could help people; she wanted to do physical therapy or Christian counseling, and even drew up blue prints for a shelter for homeless teens. “I’m just somebody who loves people and loves to make people feel wanted,” she said.

Wright says people are the most important thing in Buford’s life. “Meagan is definitely a people person,” Wright said. “She is very caring and loving to those she is close to and those in her community.”

Buford’s girlfriend, Lindsey Neely, 22, recalls a time when she was preparing to read at a poetry slam in Milledgeville, Ga. but Meagan wouldn’t be able to make it due to a test the next morning. “In order to still make it that night, Meagan took the test early and surprised me by showing up at my apartment about an hour before the slam,” Neely said. “She is always doing things like that; surprising me with flowers or just being there for me when I need her.”

After she came out, however, not everyone wanted her help. The parents of girls she mentored were forward about not wanting Buford around their children anymore, and her family looked at her in a whole new light. “It’s like wearing a scarlet letter,” she said, strategically placing her fingers on her forehead. “A big ole’ G.” But this wasn’t the first encounter Buford had with loneliness.

As a child, Buford’s military family moved from state to state. In her second grade year, the family moved to Marysville, Wash., just north of Seattle. She would have been put into the accelerated program at her new school but there was no such thing. Instead, they put the lower level third graders with the upper level second graders.

Buford, who thought she was very cool for a second grader, and bragged about the retainer she had, the one with blue sparkles. Her classmates, however, thought differently. During free time, everyone played Oregon Trail on the computer. Everyone, that is, but Buford. No one would let her play with them and so at a very young age, she learned a very important lesson.

“I knew even then that it wasn’t right to treat someone like s--- because they’re different than you,” she said. Instead of playing with the other kids, Buford sought sanctuary in a bean bag chair in the corner of the room where she read the American Sign Language dictionary. “I didn’t have to worry about feeding my cattle,” she said, “I just fed my brain.” That was her first glance at a future working with the deaf community.

It’s difficult to picture this woman, described as upbeat and contagious by Wright, being ostracized and sitting alone. “She is not shy,” Neely said, “and she is able to make anyone feel comfortable and at home around her.”

“I vowed in second grade [to help the deaf] cause I never wanted anyone to feel as lonely as I felt,” Buford said. And that’s exactly what she has done. As a sophomore in college she began taking American Sign Language (ASL) classes. Four semesters later, she considers herself fluent enough to pass as deaf. She wanted to learn the language quickly, so she tried to fully immerse herself.

“It’s not like I can study abroad in a deaf country,” she said, so instead she did extra activities outside of class and watched YouTube videos to accelerate her learning.

Buford says she feels comfortable in the deaf community because of the many parallels that can be drawn between them and the gay community. She says many ASL translators are gay because they know what it’s like to be different.

“There are preconceived notions about the way deaf and gay people act,” Wright, who is also involved with ASL, said. “In reality, we are all the same. We all have struggles in life.”

Both groups are minorities made to feel ostracized by a society that doesn’t understand them. With only an estimated 8.8 million gay and an estimated 28.8 million deaf people in the United States, many deaf and gay people report feeling inadequate for society.

According to the Gallaudet University Archives, in 1883 it was proposed that two deaf people shouldn’t be able to marry because they would isolate themselves from hearing society, much like laws still stand to prevent marriage of two gay people in America. Apart from society as a whole, parents of gay or deaf children frequently think they can “fix” their child with certain training or therapy.

“We’re not broken...do you want your money back or something?” Buford asked. Her parents still don’t accept Buford’s sexuality, and after she brought Neely to a family function, her father asked her to leave her “friend” at home next time.

Her grandfather, who Buford considers the rock of the family, was not surprised when she came out to him. Buford’s tattooed military portrait of him on her right shoulder offers a friendly smile as she talks about him. After the news of her new girlfriend spread throughout the school and her brother outed her to her parents, Buford didn’t have a chance to come out directly to almost anyone except for her grandfather. After sitting him down and explaining everything to him, he simply responded, “I always knew you favored women.”

Torn between the gay community and the Christian community, Buford has come to a realization. “I think Christians stereotype gays as much as gays stereotype Christians,” she said.

Today, Buford identifies neither with Christian nor with lesbian. “If you identify as something, people like to put you in a box,” she said. She explained that if you say you’re a lesbian people think you must be “butch,” wear plaid and ride a Harley. If you say you’re Christian then you must be the kind of Bible-thumping person who forces The Word on people.

She does, however, feel as close as ever to her early love, the deaf community. Being ostracized at different parts of her life has given Meagan Buford the experience and strength to reach out to those less fortunate. “Feeling like I’m back in the bean bag is when I make the most progress,” she said.