I couldn’t believe I was sitting on a plane on my way to Wheaton. Nearly a decade after I graduated, here I was going back to the very place I vowed never to return to. Don’t get me wrong, the people I met while I was a student are still among my closest friends. It wasn’t the people that scared me, it was the institution.
But at least I was coming back for a cause. A good cause. Hopefully what we were about to do would make Wheaton a better place for someone—maybe it would convince someone they weren’t alone and give them a resource to reach out.
I remember handing out the letters as vividly as I remember my most pivotal life moments. I guess that’s because this event quickly became one of the most important memories of my life. I was scared.
Shitless.
I used to be a police officer and I regularly faced life-and-death situations. In those years I never felt as nervous as I did handing out the letters. I pretty much came out of the closet that day and I couldn’t be more proud that I did.
I was expecting to be thrown off campus or met with hate and protest. I wasn’t. Sometimes people can surprise you, you know?
– Anon ‘00
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