I grew up in a gay house.  I grew up in a single parent house.  I grew up in a lower middle-income house.  We never thought of ourselves that way.  We were simply a family.  

We had the same hopes and fears, loves and dreams, that other people did.  We wanted to be warm in the winter, cool in the summer.  We wanted our teams to win, our friends to come over, to play with the dog, the trash to get picked up on time.  We balked at cleaning the room, raking the leaves, washing the car, doing the shopping.  We wanted all the same things that the other people we knew wanted: to live a good life.  

I saw my mother cry twice.  The first time was the June 1968 morning when she found out Bobby Kennedy had been killed.  The second was just over six months later when the Colts lost Super Bowl III to the Jets.   Neither time did she cry gaily.  Or single-parently.  Or not-quite-poorly.  She cried like a person.  After all, that's what she is, as is every other LGBT person out there:  a human being.  

There are more websites than you can count which are dedicated to the techno-narcissism of individuals.  This will not be one of them.  

It is about people coming together to create positive social change.  Necessary social change.  I can make all the arguments about how it's good for people, but in the end, the only argument that really needs to be made is that it's the right thing to do.  

It started as a class project for Freshman Composition.  I suspect it will end up being more.  

Let's get on this road together.