To put it simply, my life until now could hardly be considered normal. Some who read this might ask why I would choose to admit that openly, or why I’d choose to share this story in such a public way… but it’s important for me, now that I sit on the verge of a new start, to let people know how the American Justice system failed me as a gay kid. To understand how homophobia allowed me to be caught up in an unjust and ridiculous situation that’s cost me almost 12 years of basic freedoms.

I take comfort in knowing things could have been worse. Hell, a lot worse. Where should I start? I should start out by stating I knew I was gay from a very young age. There was no definitive day or moment, but by the time I was 5 or 6, I knew I was different. By 7, things took a turn for the worse. My parents both working hard to raise 3 kids, I spent most of my childhood with babysitters. Two families not far from where I lived did the job. However, the babysitting was the least of my worries. I spent the next 5 years of my life sexually abused by these families. Yes both families. I was already a shy, quiet kid, so my parents never noticed a change in me. By 12, I was old enough to stay home and take care of myself, and the other families moved away. But the damage was done.

Sex was not a weird thing for me. I started experimenting sexually with other boys around 13. I wouldn’t put it outside anything other boys do/did together during this phase. I knew then though, consciously, that I liked guys, and would eventually have to come to terms with it. But then, the worst possible thing imaginable happened. I got arrested. Arrested at 15. Why? Because the parents of a boy 4 years younger than me found out we had fooled around. You might be thinking that’s pretty horrible. 4 years is a big age difference at that age. But, I had grown up with this kid most of my childhood and we spent a lot of time together. I honestly did not believe I had done something wrong. My lawyer told me not to worry, that I would just have to seek court ordered therapy and I could move on with my life. But things got ugly. Real fast.

Measure 11 passed in Oregon in the 1990′s. Measure 11 prosecutes teenagers over the age of 15 as adults for crimes such as assault, child molestation, and sodomy. With an age difference of more than 2 years, I fit the mold. Since the actions happened in a small county, the prosecutors and the other kids parents used my case as a platform for Measure 11. My family wasn’t prepared, we couldn’t afford a good enough lawyer to fight the county. I was convicted of 2 Counts of Attempted Sodomy (oral sex with another male) as an adult. I spent 30 months in a juvenile detention center and was also sentenced to 20 years of post-prison supervision. Straddling the juvenile system and the adult system was difficult. I hid the fact I was gay in order to not be beat up. They were the longest 30 months of my life. Every day I wondered if today was the day someone would find out, and I would get beat up. When I was released, there were no programs available for me. Adult programs were only available to people who spent time in an adult prison. So, I was literally let out with the clothes on my back. Without my families help, I would have been homeless. I know others were not as lucky. I lived in a hotel for 8 months. When I finally moved to Seattle, Washington, I was ready for a fresh start. Then came worse news. I was considered high risk because my crime was male on male. Male on male sexual contact is defined as deviant by most jurisdictions. I was told I needed to register as a sex offender. I was lumped into a category with fathers who raped their children or old men who forced girls to have sex by gunpoint. Once again, I didn’t have the means or money to fight this. At this point, I had given up hope. My friends and family were the only people who could keep my head above water.

I was never bitter. And with the help of my friends and family, I owned my life. I bought my condo on my 23rd birthday. I got a BFA in Graphic Design. I got a nice job. I started dating. My daily activities are different than most people. If I want to travel outside my county, I have to fill out forms that can take a week. I can’t leave the country. I can’t go to a bar. I can’t vote. These are all standard rules for people being supervised with a felony. I had come to know that my life would be like this until my mid to late 30s. As a gay man, try finding a stable relationship with these restrictions!

Now at 27, there is light at the end of the tunnel. A probe has surfaced that my sentencing was and HAS always been against the law and is unconstitutional. A 15 year old should not be subject to incarceration and probation for 20+ years, especially for something most boys in the world are all too familiar with. It’s too late for an appeal, but I have options to regain control of my life. My hopes are be taken off supervision this year (a decade earlier than expected). I will be able to vote, travel, go to a bar, or spend time with my niece and nephew without the state thinking I will hurt them. Most of my life I have dealt with these demons. All these years, dozens of polygraphs, multiple therapists, all telling me the same thing. We don’t know how you got captured in this, but here you are, so deal with it. I never looked at my situation as unfair. I was a product of my environment.

As I open this new chapter in my life, I see endless possibilities. Despite the upcoming obstacles of having to find a way to pay for getting my freedom back, I am hopeful. I should have never had these rights stripped from me. Why do I feel the need to blame someone? Did this happen because I am gay? Is this still happening to children in Oregon? Where are our priorities?

At 27, I am finally starting my life and it’s about time.

Submitted By: David, 27 years old, Seattle, WA.

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