Last Friday, after running some errands in Northampton, Massachusetts, I discovered that I was an hour away from the showing of Milk at the Pleasant Street Theatre. In November of 1977, when Harvey Milk’s life was cut short by murder, I was a junior in high school, and oblivious to the gay civil rights movement that had been welling up since long before Stonewall. Even though I was dealing with my own silent battles with my sexual orientation, there was no other culture of people in my school... read more
