Revolution Time

Paxton Atwood

Paxton Atwood

July 4, 1987            Florence Town                   

Baby pink dresses, peeped toe shoes, and curls are all that my mother can ever think about. That’s if she isn’t trying to be the perfect Christian wife and mother. My dad was the leader of our town’s small congregation. As priest, everyone looked up to him as if he was the mayor. That being said, it meant that my family had to be beyond perfect.

I walked down the street to my house and the neighbors peeped out their window. Creepy was the only thing I could get from this town. The Kids in school were somewhat more normalish. Doing things behind their parents’ backs then doing a 180 when they were with them. Most of the girls were sluts but were “Gods greatest believers.” The boys were perverts beyond belief and played with every girl they got the chance. The outcasts were simply out casted. We all had our big disagreements but there was only one thing that could bring us together, our view on gay people.

This small town was just as cliché as you could think and besides the towns annual fair, there was only this one moral view that brought us all together. My family always being the center of attention was forced to organize the town events that had to do with this subject. Sometimes my older brother would give speeches at these things for the younger kids. Sometimes we would do a bit more hardcore things and go do a march at the bigger cities. But all in all, our biggest goal was to show other people that being gay is wrong.

Ever since I was small my mom has always told me, “Paxi, gay people are just people that have lost gods way. They need a lot of help to come back and to change,” I being as naive as I am listened to her. I never thought that one day I would be going against her in this.