We are all family...

I'm not one for sitting around a room, holding hands and singing Kumbaya.

Believe me, I almost gagged in class today when I thought we were headed towards one of those moments. One of those, "You know, we've all got to believe in the better good to come from teaching you guys, our youth, to make this world a better place." I sat there, mouth agape, trying to convince myself I wasn't in Sesame Street 101.

But there was an instance not too long ago that I was deeply touched by, and that I wish every kid, and hell, even adult in the world could experience.

New Years Day saw me coming home to an empty house, a bag of Chinese under my arm and in desperate need of a chair in front of a television. Switching it on, Oprah came up in front of me. Now, I don't really have much against Oprah, but I don't really have much for her either. She does her thing, and I don't watch.

Today was something a little different. I caught her just as she was speaking in between a filmed piece, saying something along the lines of, "These kids were, for the first time, breaking down barriers between themselves and their classmates." I was mildly interested.

As I watched, it became clear that this was video from a high school gym during some sort of seminar. Kids were throwing their hands in the air, twisting their fingers into some symbol and nodding along vigorously with whatever someone was saying.

The bottom line was, this seminar was all about tearing down the stereotypes and prejudices of some of the most impressionable people in society: high school kids.

There was a fat kid who was sick of people making fun of his weight. There was a black kid sick of being discriminated against by the white jocks of the school. There was a gay kid, who said he cried himself to sleep every night because people went out of their way to call him a faggot.

This is nothing new. Kids have always been torturing other kids. I myself was more often than not the victim of hurtful comments (and this was even pre-gay!) during elementary school and through most of high school. Anyone a little different was ostracized. However, in this seminar, the goal was to bring these kids, and their bullies, into the same room and try to really humanize the situation.

And it worked. I sat speechless as I watched the events unfold, how those who were hurt explained how it felt to be centred out and so mistreated for nothing more than being a different sex, race or orientation.

I don't really know how the instructor got to these kids, but in each case he would bring up the person being mistreated and get them to really explain how much it hurts them to take such abuse from their peers.

Of course, I identified with the gay kid. He was just an average teenager who happened to also be out in his high school. He talked about being spit on, about how he was called out for being gay and different, and about his nights alone at home, crying, in such pain, because these jerks just wouldn't leave him alone.

"I'm gay. We have feelings too, and you have no idea how much you have hurt me," he said.

One of the kids got up. "I...I've called you those things before," he said, reluctantly. "But, I'm sorry. I didn't know they hurt so bad," he said, and they hugged.

Sounds corny, right? I mean, come on, they're just playing nice for the seminar leader.

The final one was the most touching. It was, naturally, the horribly racist football jock, who was tormentor to anyone who wasn't white in school. He erupted into tears in the end, begging for forgiveness and promising to tell his family that racism, "Isn't where it's at." He then gave a big hug to the black kids sitting next to him.

Like I said, I don't know how this all came about, and how this instructor managed to really get to these kids on such a fundamental level. But they were changed. Sure, they might still hold on to some of their hatred and fear of those they don't understand, but I really believe that something inside of them changed for the better.

Of course, Oprah could barely keep herself from all-out bawling, but I don't blame her. It was, without exaggeration, beautiful to see the hate taken away. "That's how you do it," she said, "one person at a time."

It got me thinking about our world, and our high schools, and even our universities. Most people I know are pretty damn accepting, colour blind and sensitive. Even as I embraced myself over the last year, I've become ever more sensitive of others around me, of how my actions and behaviour effect them. And that's not to say I've just gotten good at not saying certain words or making certain jokes. I'm not perfect, but I really fundamentally believe that I love pretty much everybody, no matter race, creed and certainly no matter what orientation. I'm not a heterophobe now, and I have a lot more understanding for trans folk. I like to think of myself as colour blind.

This isn't to say I don't dislike certain things about certain cultures. Believe me, I hate oppression in many cultures, how they treat certain people in society and their expectations for men and woman. But I give everyone the benefit of the doubt, and often in the people I encounter their morals and the way they lead their lives and treat others around them pretty much agree with mine.

The bottom line is, I wish every kid in every school could go through what I saw. To sit down with their classmates and get everything out in the open, to really show how much it hurts to be singled out, sometimes for no real reason, and tormented by others their own age. People who are supposed to be learning to be better than that.

What kind of world would it be if everyone had to go through this? Maybe kids wouldn't cry themselves to sleep at night, and adults wouldn't develop real problems stemming from the torment they suffered as kids, and even in the workforce.

Now, I'm not saying that everyone who was ever called a mean name is fundamentally fucked. Every kid goes through a bit of teasing. But when it gets to the point of consistent torture, and especially over something as trivial as race, orientation or size, it's unfair and wrong.

I probably sound like a bleeding heart by now, but I cannot say enough about how I wish every kid was brought up with a bit more understanding of themselves and the world around them.

So I ask you, while you interact with the youth in your life, try to open their eyes to the fact that disliking someone because of a physical or sexual difference is fundamentally wrong. Prove them wrong when they say that someone is an idiot because of their race, or effeminate because of their orientation, or whatever. Show them that it's OK to just be who you are.

Maybe this world will change. I guess it's happening, slowly. And as a firmly-planted realist, I know you can't change the world in a month, or a year. But if this kind of acceptance really starts taking hold in high school, things may just wind up alright after all.