Page 3 of 6
Scott was also concerned about how a full-blown petition drive might look: No 12-year-old organizes such a thing on his own. "Part of my advocacy is me working through my own issues of hurt and pain," says Scott, whose mother abandoned him and his brother when they were young. He feels a certain empathy with the rejection gay kids often experience. "It could be viewed that I am doing this for my own ego. Some of it is; that's human. But I try to keep that in check as much as I can. I never saw myself using Steven for my own agenda. Not consciously, anyway."
Steven was game. Scott set up a petition drive on a weekend afternoon outside the Lucky's grocery store in Petaluma. He also arranged a press conference afterward, and Steven was a hit. Bay Area media ran with it, and the wire picked up the story, sending it nationwide. Locally, though, the reaction was much less welcoming. When Scott invited Steven's Scout troop to march with them in the San Francisco Gay Pride Parade, no one accepted. "A lot of people got pissed I would even suggest such a thing. Some were opposed for religious reasons," he says. "The parents really raked me over the coals for that one, saying, "How can you do that to your kid?'"
Scott was ejected from Troop 74, but didn't forsake Scouting. He made allies with other Bay Area adults, both gay and straight, who loved Scouting but wanted the gay ban dropped. They formed Scouting for All. Steven was allowed to stay in his troop even though he continued to speak out under his father's direction. In effect, he was being used by Scouting for All, playing an integral role in the group's strategy. "The opposition was softened by Steve," Scott says. "He's just a kid, and what possible agenda can he have? He disarms people. It's hard to go after and hate a child who speaks the truth."
Steven loved the attention. Not only was he in the paper and on the local news, he was a favorite guest on talk radio and was getting booked on national television programs like the Today show and Good Morning America. He was also in demand on the lecture and awards circuit. The ACLU gave Steven its youth activist award. New York City's Police Department honored him with a badge of courage. The Human Rights Campaign, the country's largest and most powerful gay lobby group, invited him to speak at last April's Millennium March on Washington.
Back in Petaluma, Steven braced for certain teasing at school. But the ostracism wasn't as bad as he expected. By junior high, the in-crowd already had been welcoming him, mainly for his prowess on the sports field. He was developing early for his age and stood out on the soccer, wrestling, track, and cross-country teams. And he was far from the introverted, nerdy type one might expect of a person who stays with the Boy Scouts into his teenage years. Steven was an outgoing, attractive, and popular kid who gave Scouting a good name and image. He made it look cool. In his freshman year of high school, he was voted homecoming king. Most everyone seemed to like him, especially the girls. Some of the boys made fun of his cause, calling him gay by association, but as Steven says, "things got better when I got on TV."
Steven was getting hundreds of e-mails a week from former and current Boy Scouts who offered their support. Scouting for All was granted nonprofit status, and people began to send in donations. Scott, who had spent thousands of dollars from his family's savings on the cause, could now get his $700-a-month phone bills reimbursed. Scouting for All set up a national board of directors to oversee volunteer operations in four regional districts. Scott became the group's president and Steven its spokesperson.
"Here an issue came right in our face, and we could've easily turned away and let it go by. I'm proud we didn't," Scott says. "You raise and teach your kids, do things with them, take them fishing and to baseball games. It just so happens Scouting for All is one of the other things we do together. Who says we can't fish and be activists, too?"
In a Washington, D.C., hotel room, Scott coaches his son the night before the Millennium March. A few hundred thousand people are expected to gather on the nation's Mall between the Capitol building and the Lincoln Memorial on a late spring Sunday to rally for equal rights for gays. Steven has been invited to address the crowd, his remarks to be televised live on C-SPAN. Scott plays videotapes of old Martin Luther King speeches.
"Remember to look up, into the crowd. Try not to read your notes so much."
But Steven catches King doing otherwise: "See, Dad, he looks at his notes!"
Next they argue about gesturing. Scott wants Steven to thrust his arm in the air and make a fist at the conclusion of his speech. Steven says that looks stupid.
Steven is also uncomfortable with the latest draft of his speech because it does not contain his own words. The usual drill has Steven mention what he'd like to say, while his dad actually writes the speech. Now Steven finds this system suspect and wonders if it is right. Scott tells him that some of his biggest heroes -- John and Robert Kennedy, and King -- all had speechwriters. Still, Steven insists he write his own this time.
