Out in the West: The Mormon Church Is Going Mainstream—and Leaving Its Gay Members Behind
I try to focus on the positive,” Adam tells me. His body leans forward in the chair as if his thin frame will add heft to a statement that his eyes don’t support. “I’m fine.”
Outside my office windows, the campus sits brown and empty. Late fall is the only time of year when northern Utah loses its beauty. Snow has not yet covered the mountains that rise all around us. Bereft of leaves and birds, they huddle closer to the ground. The semester has hit the same brown patch as the season, far from the beginning but not close enough to the end to count. The radiator bangs to life, pinging like a mechanical heart.
“I know of someone you can talk to,” I say. “Her voice mail is password protected. Any message you left would be safe.”
“Thanks,” he says, “but I’m fine.”
I return to his essay, the sheaf of paper bending in my hand, and read my comments asking him to “flesh things out” or “set the scene.” These questions of craft feel like another shore at this moment, an island distant and foreign. What I want to do is shake him, beg him to leave the valley, head for the coast. What I want to do is hold him in my arms and tell him that everything will be okay. But I don’t. We sit in silence, the radiator’s last beat echoing down the hall.
“I’m worried about you.”
He laughs nervously and shakes his head, then wipes his hands up and down his jeans to scrub an invisible stain.
I can’t tell him I am worried he will kill himself. I have said as much to other students, but I knew them better. Adam is buried in his down-filled coat, far away from me. I think about giving him the statistics for gay teen suicide, pointing out the fact that Utah’s numbers are among the highest in the country, but figures wouldn’t matter in this conversation.