LGBT Youth Homelessness
by Zoe Lovelace
Age 18
Houston, TX
Imagine that you are a 13 year old boy in Houston, Texas. Your name is Sam. You have what appears to be a very loving family. You gladly spend most of your free time playing video games or throwing a ball around with your friends from school. You look forward to attending church every Sunday, where you get to hang out with your youth group. One day, you aspire to be a doctor.
Then, something changes your life. As your family is leaving for church, a gay couple walks by. Their hands are linked together, and they lean in to steal a quick kiss as they pass your driveway. Your father instantly shakes his head in anger. Your mother’s face contorts with disgust, but not before she spits out, “Those people are sinful, Sam. Don’t look.”
You feel like your entire world has shattered. Why? Because there is one small detail nobody knows, nobody can know about you: you are gay. You do your best to hide your secret. You feign revulsion at the couple, but the reaction is delayed. This doesn’t go unnoticed by your parents.
Over the course of the next few years, similar incidents occur and you always act the way that your family expects you to. Then, at some point, the charade falls through. Your parents figure out what you have tried so hard to keep covert.
They sit you down and scream until you can’t bear any more. They threaten to homeschool you. They tell you that you can’t be a real Christian and also be gay. They tell you that if you don’t go to conversion therapy, you no longer have a place in their house.
Your psychological well being spirals down the drain in a matter of hours. Your entire identity has been uprooted. You are at risk of losing practically all ties to everyone you care about. The spiritual faith that has become such a big part of your life might be turning its back on you. The family you have learned to rely upon so much is now shunning you. Anxiety races around your head. You sink into what will become a long, dark depression.
Your parents force you into conversion therapy for months. Your entire family drives to Dallas every weekend for the sessions. The “therapist” induces nausea in you every time you look at an image showing queer romance or attraction. The therapist tells you that being gay is a defect, and you are flawed. You begin to believe that being gay is a sinful choice, and that you are broken. You snap a rubber band on your arm every time you get a a sexual urge. Your parents cut you off from your friends and church youth group. You have no support system left.
Soon enough, you start to hate yourself as much as everyone says that you should. You turn to self harm. A rubber band on the wrist escalates to a razor blade. You cut yourself because you don’t have anywhere to turn. Then, when you finally decide that you can’t go back to conversion therapy, you are kicked out of the house. In an unceremonious goodbye, your mother throws an open suitcase full of clothes out of the front door. You are no longer welcome in the place that should be your sanctuary.
Now, you are 17. Your aunt mercifully agrees to rent out her garage to you for a few months, until you graduate from high school. Your college chances look grim. You are paralyzed by the fact that if you do not receive a generous college scholarship, you will have nowhere to live. In the meanwhile, you work night shifts at a diner to pay rent. The dreams you had of being a doctor are so far gone that they are barely even a memory now. People say that this is the worst case scenario for a queer teen. Now, it’s your life.
This story isn’t a product of my imagination. It is based on the real life events of two queer teenagers, who happen to be my friends. As a member of Houston’s LGBTQIA+ community myself, the plight faced by countless homeless queer teens tugs at my heartstrings. An astonishing 20-40% of all homeless youth identify as lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender (US Dept of Housing and Urban Development).
Often, the road to homelessness for queer youth begins in childhood. Adolescent members of the queer community who need love and support are instead faced with chronic stress, abuse, and violence (Cochran, Stewart, Ginzler, & Cauce, 2002; Garofalo, Wolf, Paragra, Kessel, Palfrey, & Duran, 1998; Savin-Williams, 1994; Rew, Whittaker, Taylor, Smith 2005). The result of this mistreatment is a cascade of emotional health issues. Queer teens experience higher rates of substance abuse, depression, prostitution, STDs, unplanned pregnancy, HIV, and suicide.
Directly linked to these problems is the sad reality of queer homelessness. LGBTQIA+ youth are forcibly removed from their homes due to their sexual orientation (Rew, Whittaker, Taylor, Smith 2005; Kurks 1991). Families rejecting their children on the basis of sexual orientation or gender expression is the single most cited factor causing LGBTQIA+ homelessness. Over half of queer homeless youth have experienced some form of abuse from their families (Durso & Gates 2012). Sometimes teens are so scared of facing punishment from their communities or families that they run away from home. The life of LGBT homeless youth is dominated by the need to escape oppressive familial ties. I have personally witnessed the downfall of a young lesbian teen after she was kicked out of her house by her parents. She scraped by for a few months by living with her aunt, and went to a local college. Her grades are so low that she is on the verge of failing out, which would leave her with no place to go. She has turned to alcohol as a crutch for her emotional circumstances. In an ideal world, she would have a much stronger support system than a few college friends. If her family were still in her life, they could serve as a positive guiding influence on her. Instead, she is unsure where to go if her circumstances don’t begin to look up.
No two cases of homelessness begin the exact same way, but the path often looks familiar for many LGBT youth. Unforgiving and relentless families drive their children into a state of physical, mental, and spiritual chaos. Children no longer feel safe in their homes, school, or places of worship. They begin to feel ostracized and removed from the communities that they identify with. Without a strong sense of identity, these youth drift into dangerous vices and bad situations.
These vulnerable teens often have no place to turn. Homelessness itself can be illegal. In my city, Houston, laws allow the homeless to be arrested simply for being homeless. But queer homeless youth have uniquely uncomfortable situations to handle on a day to day basis. Not only are LGBT youth more likely to become homeless, but they are also more likely to be harassed and discriminated against in such a way that it becomes harder to escape homelessness. This prejudice shown to queer homeless youth makes it harder to gain access to housing and corrupts trust within communities (US Dept of Housing and Urban Development).
There is no one way to address this complex issue. However, various community based programs make quality of life for at risk teens much better. Firstly, the stigma associated with being queer can be deadly. Tackling this stigma and its associated harms can save lives, while preventing teens from being forced into homelessness. Empowering community groups with this advocacy in mind is a powerful way to tackle homelessness. Take the example of the Trevor Project, which empowers queer leaders and allies to reach out to high risk teens. The Trevor Project trains “Lifeguards” to prevent suicide in queer youth. These community leaders are trained to identify, recognize, and change life threatening situations they see. Whether this means intervening in a family crisis or recognizing the warning signs of depression, it can be a major tool in keeping youth from homelessness. The Trevor Project is not alone in its endeavours. Groups such as Safe Place offer counseling, housing assistance, and crisis intervention to teens who are at risk for homelessness due to rough family circumstances. These groups could use more funding, awareness, and volunteers to spread their message and agenda. Safety nets such as these are not perfect solutions, but they help make up for the support system that so many queer youth simply do not have due to extremely harmful societal norms. The stigma of being queer might never disappear completely, but changing the reaction of communities in which these youth live could drastically improve their chances for a healthy survival.
Furthermore, the harmful practices of conversion therapy could be tackled through legislation. Conversion therapy is based in the dangerous assumption that being queer is wrong, disgusting, and even a mental disorder. Assuming that queer youth are experiencing a psychiatric condition when they feel an unconventional romantic attraction or gender expression is at the root of why so many teens come to feel displaced in their own homes. Conversion therapy does not lead to conversion, and it is not a therapy. Many bigots simply hide behind the veil of religious freedom in order to perpetuate this cruel punishment. If a freely consenting adult wants to subject him/herself to this barbaric practice, then so be it. But adolescents should not be coerced or forced into enduring this treatment against their wishes. At the very least, laws similar to those passed in California, Oregon, Vermont, New Jersey, Illinois, New Mexico and Washington D.C. could be passed. These laws state that minors are banned from receiving conversion therapy from everyone except licensed mental health care providers. This kind of law protects children from being subjected to charlatans who claim they can magically “cure” homosexuality. Empirical medical studies have shown time and time again that conversion therapy is ineffective and more often than not harms the patient. One study that showed the success of these dangerous treatments was later repealed by its author, who claimed he used faulty methodology to prove the point he wanted to. He has since asked that his study not be used as proof that conversion therapy works, but many anti-LGBT groups continue to use the study as supposed proof of the efficacy of these cruel treatments.
At the end of the day, no two stories are the same. There is no one-size-fits-all cure for the life crises and unfortunate circumstances that force people into homelessness. However, shining a light on the social ills of American youth, particularly queer youth, can be a first step in preventing these crises from continuing in the future. Working with legislators and community leaders to provide safety nets and support systems will guarantee that no more queer youth feel that they are out of hope, with nowhere to go. We can achieve a nation in which no child is left so ngelcted, abused, and shunned that they are left alone to battle for survival. It may not be an easy task, but in many cases the grim alternative is the burial of these children.
Works Cited
Age 18
Houston, TX
Imagine that you are a 13 year old boy in Houston, Texas. Your name is Sam. You have what appears to be a very loving family. You gladly spend most of your free time playing video games or throwing a ball around with your friends from school. You look forward to attending church every Sunday, where you get to hang out with your youth group. One day, you aspire to be a doctor.
Then, something changes your life. As your family is leaving for church, a gay couple walks by. Their hands are linked together, and they lean in to steal a quick kiss as they pass your driveway. Your father instantly shakes his head in anger. Your mother’s face contorts with disgust, but not before she spits out, “Those people are sinful, Sam. Don’t look.”
You feel like your entire world has shattered. Why? Because there is one small detail nobody knows, nobody can know about you: you are gay. You do your best to hide your secret. You feign revulsion at the couple, but the reaction is delayed. This doesn’t go unnoticed by your parents.
Over the course of the next few years, similar incidents occur and you always act the way that your family expects you to. Then, at some point, the charade falls through. Your parents figure out what you have tried so hard to keep covert.
They sit you down and scream until you can’t bear any more. They threaten to homeschool you. They tell you that you can’t be a real Christian and also be gay. They tell you that if you don’t go to conversion therapy, you no longer have a place in their house.
Your psychological well being spirals down the drain in a matter of hours. Your entire identity has been uprooted. You are at risk of losing practically all ties to everyone you care about. The spiritual faith that has become such a big part of your life might be turning its back on you. The family you have learned to rely upon so much is now shunning you. Anxiety races around your head. You sink into what will become a long, dark depression.
Your parents force you into conversion therapy for months. Your entire family drives to Dallas every weekend for the sessions. The “therapist” induces nausea in you every time you look at an image showing queer romance or attraction. The therapist tells you that being gay is a defect, and you are flawed. You begin to believe that being gay is a sinful choice, and that you are broken. You snap a rubber band on your arm every time you get a a sexual urge. Your parents cut you off from your friends and church youth group. You have no support system left.
Soon enough, you start to hate yourself as much as everyone says that you should. You turn to self harm. A rubber band on the wrist escalates to a razor blade. You cut yourself because you don’t have anywhere to turn. Then, when you finally decide that you can’t go back to conversion therapy, you are kicked out of the house. In an unceremonious goodbye, your mother throws an open suitcase full of clothes out of the front door. You are no longer welcome in the place that should be your sanctuary.
Now, you are 17. Your aunt mercifully agrees to rent out her garage to you for a few months, until you graduate from high school. Your college chances look grim. You are paralyzed by the fact that if you do not receive a generous college scholarship, you will have nowhere to live. In the meanwhile, you work night shifts at a diner to pay rent. The dreams you had of being a doctor are so far gone that they are barely even a memory now. People say that this is the worst case scenario for a queer teen. Now, it’s your life.
This story isn’t a product of my imagination. It is based on the real life events of two queer teenagers, who happen to be my friends. As a member of Houston’s LGBTQIA+ community myself, the plight faced by countless homeless queer teens tugs at my heartstrings. An astonishing 20-40% of all homeless youth identify as lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender (US Dept of Housing and Urban Development).
Often, the road to homelessness for queer youth begins in childhood. Adolescent members of the queer community who need love and support are instead faced with chronic stress, abuse, and violence (Cochran, Stewart, Ginzler, & Cauce, 2002; Garofalo, Wolf, Paragra, Kessel, Palfrey, & Duran, 1998; Savin-Williams, 1994; Rew, Whittaker, Taylor, Smith 2005). The result of this mistreatment is a cascade of emotional health issues. Queer teens experience higher rates of substance abuse, depression, prostitution, STDs, unplanned pregnancy, HIV, and suicide.
Directly linked to these problems is the sad reality of queer homelessness. LGBTQIA+ youth are forcibly removed from their homes due to their sexual orientation (Rew, Whittaker, Taylor, Smith 2005; Kurks 1991). Families rejecting their children on the basis of sexual orientation or gender expression is the single most cited factor causing LGBTQIA+ homelessness. Over half of queer homeless youth have experienced some form of abuse from their families (Durso & Gates 2012). Sometimes teens are so scared of facing punishment from their communities or families that they run away from home. The life of LGBT homeless youth is dominated by the need to escape oppressive familial ties. I have personally witnessed the downfall of a young lesbian teen after she was kicked out of her house by her parents. She scraped by for a few months by living with her aunt, and went to a local college. Her grades are so low that she is on the verge of failing out, which would leave her with no place to go. She has turned to alcohol as a crutch for her emotional circumstances. In an ideal world, she would have a much stronger support system than a few college friends. If her family were still in her life, they could serve as a positive guiding influence on her. Instead, she is unsure where to go if her circumstances don’t begin to look up.
No two cases of homelessness begin the exact same way, but the path often looks familiar for many LGBT youth. Unforgiving and relentless families drive their children into a state of physical, mental, and spiritual chaos. Children no longer feel safe in their homes, school, or places of worship. They begin to feel ostracized and removed from the communities that they identify with. Without a strong sense of identity, these youth drift into dangerous vices and bad situations.
These vulnerable teens often have no place to turn. Homelessness itself can be illegal. In my city, Houston, laws allow the homeless to be arrested simply for being homeless. But queer homeless youth have uniquely uncomfortable situations to handle on a day to day basis. Not only are LGBT youth more likely to become homeless, but they are also more likely to be harassed and discriminated against in such a way that it becomes harder to escape homelessness. This prejudice shown to queer homeless youth makes it harder to gain access to housing and corrupts trust within communities (US Dept of Housing and Urban Development).
There is no one way to address this complex issue. However, various community based programs make quality of life for at risk teens much better. Firstly, the stigma associated with being queer can be deadly. Tackling this stigma and its associated harms can save lives, while preventing teens from being forced into homelessness. Empowering community groups with this advocacy in mind is a powerful way to tackle homelessness. Take the example of the Trevor Project, which empowers queer leaders and allies to reach out to high risk teens. The Trevor Project trains “Lifeguards” to prevent suicide in queer youth. These community leaders are trained to identify, recognize, and change life threatening situations they see. Whether this means intervening in a family crisis or recognizing the warning signs of depression, it can be a major tool in keeping youth from homelessness. The Trevor Project is not alone in its endeavours. Groups such as Safe Place offer counseling, housing assistance, and crisis intervention to teens who are at risk for homelessness due to rough family circumstances. These groups could use more funding, awareness, and volunteers to spread their message and agenda. Safety nets such as these are not perfect solutions, but they help make up for the support system that so many queer youth simply do not have due to extremely harmful societal norms. The stigma of being queer might never disappear completely, but changing the reaction of communities in which these youth live could drastically improve their chances for a healthy survival.
Furthermore, the harmful practices of conversion therapy could be tackled through legislation. Conversion therapy is based in the dangerous assumption that being queer is wrong, disgusting, and even a mental disorder. Assuming that queer youth are experiencing a psychiatric condition when they feel an unconventional romantic attraction or gender expression is at the root of why so many teens come to feel displaced in their own homes. Conversion therapy does not lead to conversion, and it is not a therapy. Many bigots simply hide behind the veil of religious freedom in order to perpetuate this cruel punishment. If a freely consenting adult wants to subject him/herself to this barbaric practice, then so be it. But adolescents should not be coerced or forced into enduring this treatment against their wishes. At the very least, laws similar to those passed in California, Oregon, Vermont, New Jersey, Illinois, New Mexico and Washington D.C. could be passed. These laws state that minors are banned from receiving conversion therapy from everyone except licensed mental health care providers. This kind of law protects children from being subjected to charlatans who claim they can magically “cure” homosexuality. Empirical medical studies have shown time and time again that conversion therapy is ineffective and more often than not harms the patient. One study that showed the success of these dangerous treatments was later repealed by its author, who claimed he used faulty methodology to prove the point he wanted to. He has since asked that his study not be used as proof that conversion therapy works, but many anti-LGBT groups continue to use the study as supposed proof of the efficacy of these cruel treatments.
At the end of the day, no two stories are the same. There is no one-size-fits-all cure for the life crises and unfortunate circumstances that force people into homelessness. However, shining a light on the social ills of American youth, particularly queer youth, can be a first step in preventing these crises from continuing in the future. Working with legislators and community leaders to provide safety nets and support systems will guarantee that no more queer youth feel that they are out of hope, with nowhere to go. We can achieve a nation in which no child is left so ngelcted, abused, and shunned that they are left alone to battle for survival. It may not be an easy task, but in many cases the grim alternative is the burial of these children.
Works Cited
- Campaign, Human Rights. "The Lies and Dangers of 'Conversion Therapy'." Human Rights Campaign. N.p., n.d. Web. 01 May 2017.
- Cochran, Bryan N., Angela J. Stewart, Joshua A. Ginzler, and Ana Mari Cauce. "Challenges Faced by Homeless Sexual Minorities: Comparison of Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, and Transgender Homeless Adolescents With Their Heterosexual Counterparts." American Journal of Public Health. © American Journal of Public Health 2002, May 2002. Web. 01 May 2017.
- Durso, Laura E., and Gary J. Gates. "Serving Our Youth: Findings from a National Survey of Services Providers Working with Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender Youth Who Are Homeless or At Risk of Becoming Homeless." EScholarship. N.p., 12 July 2012. Web. 01 May 2017.
- Kruks, Gabe. "Gay and Lesbian Homeless/street Youth: Special Issues and Concerns." Gay and Lesbian Homeless/street Youth: Special Issues and Concerns - ScienceDirect. N.p., n.d. Web. 01 May 2017.
- "LGBT Homelessness." HUD Exchange. N.p., n.d. Web. 01 May 2017.
- Rew, Lynn, Tiffany A. Whittaker, Margaret A. Taylor-Seehafer, and Lorie R. Smith. "Sexual Health Risks and Protective Resources in Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, and Heterosexual Homeless Youth." Journal for Specialists in Pediatric Nursing 10.1 (2005): 11-19. NIH. NIH. Web.
- Savin-Williams, R. C. "Verbal and Physical Abuse as Stressors in the Lives of Lesbian, Gay Male, and Bisexual Youths: Associations with School Problems, Running Away, Substance Abuse, Prostitution, and Suicide." Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology. U.S. National Library of Medicine, Apr. 1994. Web. 01 May 2017.
- Wolfe, Liz. "The Laws Cities Use To Make Homelessness a Crime." The Daily Beast. The Daily Beast Company, 30 Jan. 2017. Web. 01 May 2017.
About the Author
My name is Zoe Lovelace, and I was born and raised in Houston, Texas. I will matriculate as a freshman to Dartmouth College this fall. At Dartmouth I plan to major in Economics or Sociology, and I would also love to explore Religion and Spanish. I will be on a pre-law track and hope to pursue law school after undergraduate studies. I am currently enjoying work with a local law firm.
Outside of school and work, my free time is consumed by a love for debate. From researching to writing to speaking, every aspect of debate is a rewarding challenge for me. I believe in debate as a way to teach civil discourse. Debate gives people a voice and trains them to defend what they believe in. As such, I have been an extremely active member of the debate community. I have competed in the Houston circuit for the past four years, and now I teach others how to use their voices. I am very thankful for the inspiration and lessons given to me by my high school coach, Mrs. Rodriguez. During my senior year of high school at DeBakey HSHP, I was able to use my time as debate team captain to reach out to younger students and teach them important debate skills. This gave me the confidence to branch out. I began serving as a coach and judge for a local debate league, and now I am also working with a national organization. I find it extremely rewarding to work with novices who are timid about writing their speeches and are terrified of presenting their work to others. In my recent work with a debate camp, I learned that in just a few days of mentoring you can watch someone transform from shyly hiding behind a paper to passionately defending speeches in front of crowds. I hope to one day run my own camp. I would love to help bring debate to underserved, underprivileged, and rural communities that currently do not have programs available. I hope that my writing about LGBT homelessness is an example of how your voice can be a tool to stand up for your beliefs. I will continue to stand up for my communities and for those who don’t have a voice.
Outside of school and work, my free time is consumed by a love for debate. From researching to writing to speaking, every aspect of debate is a rewarding challenge for me. I believe in debate as a way to teach civil discourse. Debate gives people a voice and trains them to defend what they believe in. As such, I have been an extremely active member of the debate community. I have competed in the Houston circuit for the past four years, and now I teach others how to use their voices. I am very thankful for the inspiration and lessons given to me by my high school coach, Mrs. Rodriguez. During my senior year of high school at DeBakey HSHP, I was able to use my time as debate team captain to reach out to younger students and teach them important debate skills. This gave me the confidence to branch out. I began serving as a coach and judge for a local debate league, and now I am also working with a national organization. I find it extremely rewarding to work with novices who are timid about writing their speeches and are terrified of presenting their work to others. In my recent work with a debate camp, I learned that in just a few days of mentoring you can watch someone transform from shyly hiding behind a paper to passionately defending speeches in front of crowds. I hope to one day run my own camp. I would love to help bring debate to underserved, underprivileged, and rural communities that currently do not have programs available. I hope that my writing about LGBT homelessness is an example of how your voice can be a tool to stand up for your beliefs. I will continue to stand up for my communities and for those who don’t have a voice.