Date: Tue, 11 Sep 2018 17:16:13 +0000
From: Joel <joelyoung120@hotmail.com>
Subject: My Freshman Experience Chapter 22

                    My Freshman Experience

                       By Joel Young

Chapter 22: The Oberlin Oratory Contest

"No," Ms. Sanborn said. "I'm not `friggin' kidding you." I could tell from
her tone of voice that she didn't like my choice of words. "Reverend Stuart
is willing to compromise his position if you will reconsider participating
in the competition."

"Wow! He must really want to win if he's doing an about-face like that," I
said. "Does that mean I can leave my speech as it is?"

"It means that you can leave your speech as you originally delivered it
last semester," Ms. Sanborn explained. "You can include what you wrote
about the persecution of gays, but the expanded parts can't be included."

"So, I would still have to edit my beliefs?" I said impertinently. "I'd
have to back down and let Reverend Stuart tell me what I can and can't say
about my personal faith journey? No way!"

"I thought you might see things that way," Ms. Sanborn said. "I told
Reverend Stuart not to get his hopes up. But still, I told him I'd try to
convince you to compete."

"So, you think I should agree to what he wants?" I asked.

"Not necessarily," she said.

That didn't make sense to me. "Why would you agree to `convince me' if
you're not sure it's the right thing to do?"

"Let me re-phrase," Ms. Sanborn said. "You should do what you believe is
right. But, if I were in your situation, I would agree to compete. I
understand that you think Reverend Stuart's offer would compromise your
integrity, but there are advantages for you – and for your beliefs. You
would still be able to stand before an audience and condemn the persecution
of gay people; maybe not to the extent that you'd like, but it is an
opportunity to share your point of view. And, you might win scholarship
money; not to mention adding to your curriculum vitae. Things like that
count when you graduate and begin looking for that first job. Think about
it, Joel. You don't have to make a final decision today."

I was pretty sure that I wouldn't agree to be controlled by Reverend
Stuart. At the same time, Ms. Sanborn made some good points, and it might
seem unreasonable to refuse to think about it. "Okay," I said. "When do I
have to let you know my final decision?"

"As soon as you make one," Ms. Sanborn said. "I'm not going to hurry
you. I'll tell Reverend Stuart that you're considering the offer, and
you'll let us know if you agree to the compromise."

"Okay," I said. "But, I'll let you know either way. I don't want to leave
either of you hanging – even though I think Reverend Stuart would
happily hang me out to dry if he didn't need me in the competition!"

Ms. Sanborn ignored my insult directed at Reverend Stuart. "There's one
more thing, Joel," she said. "It concerns the Academic Committee. I know
you thought that since Reverend Stuart is the Chair, you couldn't get a
fair hearing. Had you stayed in the meeting, I would have told both of you
that University policy would have required the Reverend to recuse himself."

"Recuse?" I said. "What does that mean?"

"It means that he couldn't participate in the decision about your issue. If
your complaint involves Reverend Stuart, it wouldn't be fair for him to
vote on the matter. In fact, he'd only be allowed to talk about it in a
formal meeting with a quorum of the members present. He could explain his
side of the story – in the same manner that you would be allowed to
explain your side."

"That sounds fair," I said. "But still, since Reverend Stuart is the Chair
of the committee, they'd probably want to side with him – just to avoid
things getting awkward in the future."

Ms. Sanborn shook her head. "I see why you were on your high school debate
team," she said. "Your mind automatically goes to the downside of any
suggestion."

"Well, I was First Negative," I said with a smile.

"Of course you were," Ms. Sanborn said.

"Ah, but that's not all bad," I argued. "When I do make a decision, I've
considered all the facts and possibilities."

After my meeting with Ms. Sanborn, I walked back to the dorm to get the
books for my Tuesday classes. The weather was becoming warmer. Much of the
campus still looked gray, but there was a hint of freshness in the air. I
looked forward to greener grass and forsythia bushes blooming in their
deep-yellow color.

As I entered Pilgrim Hall, I saw Peter in the lobby. He was reading a
poster on the wall. "Hey, Peter," I said. "How's it going?"

"Hey, Joel," Peter said. "Things are good; no complaints. Well, no
complaints except about the food in the cafeteria this morning. It was
pretty bad. The scrambled eggs were cold and runny – worse than
usual. And, they ran out of milk for the cereal!"

"I'm glad I skipped it," I said.

"Hey, have you heard about the Oberlin Day Celebration? It's in two weeks,"
Peter said.

"I've heard about it," I answered. "But, I haven't paid much attention. I
haven't felt like celebrating the university recently."

"I know what you mean," Peter said. "'But, there are lots of activities
scheduled. Some of them look like fun."

"Oh, yeah?" I asked. "You gonna' sign up for something?"

"Maybe," Peter said. "I thought I might get a team together for the `Tug of
War' games. What do you think?"

"I love a good `Tug of War.' It's fun, and no one gets hurt," I said.

"Well, that's true most of the time," Peter said. "I have seen a few
scrapes and sprains when guys are dragged across the ground. But, other
than that, it can be fun. Do you want to be on my team? I mean if your
ankle is okay."

"It's fine," I said. "Full recovery! Yeah, count me in!"

Peter and I walked down the first-floor corridor toward our rooms. "Who
else should we get on our team?" I asked as we entered Peter's room. Tom
had already left for classes.

"Mitch might be a good choice," Peter said. "He looks pretty strong."

"He is," I assured Peter. "And, he's very competitive. He loves to beat me
in cards – and on the tennis court."

"Okay," Peter said. "You, me and Mitch. But, we have to have five guys. Who
else?"

"What about Tom?" I asked. "I'm sure he'd like to be included."

Peter was sitting on his bed. He looked down and said nothing.

"What?" I asked. "You don't want Tom on your team?"

"It's not that I don't want him on the team," Peter said. "It's just that
..."

I had no idea what Peter's concern was, so I just waited for him to
complete his thought.

Finally, he said, "I'm not sure it's such a good idea to ask Tom to be on
the team. I mean, he's strong for someone who's only 5 foot 9, but I'm
really worried he might hurt himself. He had to quit playing football in
high school because of shoulder problems, and I don't want him to get
injured. He's the kind of guy who will do whatever it takes to help his
friends, as long as it's legal and ethical, of course. But, I think in his
drive to help us win, he might push himself beyond what's safe. I'd feel
terrible if something happened to him!"



"Well, it's up to you, Peter," I said. "But, I think that's the kind of
decision you probably should let Tom make for himself. He might get pissed
if you make that call without discussing it with him, especially if his
friends are all part of the team."



"I suppose you're right," Peter said. "And, I'd probably feel like a jerk
if I hurt his feelings. You won't tell him that I was thinking about
leaving him out, will you?"

"Of course not!" I said. "So, if Tom and Mitch join us, that makes
four. Who are you going to ask to take the fifth spot?"

"Well, it looks like it's going to be a team of close friends. How about we
ask Adam?"

I was pleased that Peter considered Adam to be a close friend. "That'd be
great," I said. "He's pretty strong, and he hates to lose. When we wrestle
..."

I stopped before I embarrassed myself. The only time Adam and I wrestled
was when we were naked together. My face turned bright red.

"Go on," Peter grinned. "I think I know what you were going to say."

"When we wrestle," I repeated. "Adam can easily pin me to the bed. And even
after a struggle, he's got great stamina!"

"Interesting," Peter said. "But, can he tug?"

I smiled before answering. "Oh, yeah!" I said. "Believe me. He can tug!"

"I guess you'd know," Peter teased. "Anyway, what do you think we should
call our team?"

`"Well, it's your team. Your name should be in it. How about - Peter's
Torpedoes?" I said, referring to his nickname in the showers.

"No way!" Peter said. "You know how embarrassed I get when people make fun
of how big I am down there."

"Sorry," I said. "I was just trying to make a joke."

"I don't want the team named after me," Peter said. "We need a name that
doesn't single out any one of us."

I took a moment to consider other names. "I know," I said. "The Plymouth
Rocks!"

"Yeah!" Peter said. "I like that. We'll be the guys from Pilgrim Hall
claiming ownership of Plymouth Rock!"

"Exactly!" I said. "But is it still all right to have Adam on our team –
even though he lives in Wesley?"

Peter chuckled. "With all the time he spends in your room, that shouldn't
be a problem!"

"Then it's decided!" I announced.

"Great!" Peter said. "I'll talk to Tom and Mitch. You can ask Adam to join
our team." Peter and I high-fived, sealing the deal for our plans.

"Are your mom and dad coming for Parents' Day?" Peter asked. "Mine are, and
I bet they'd all like to watch us annihilate the other teams!"

I hadn't talked to my parents about attending the Oberlin Day
Celebration. As I thought about it, I realized that it was the same day as
the oratory contest.

"Shit!" I exclaimed. "I'm reconsidering being in the oratory competition. I
really don't want my parents here for that!"

"I thought you told Reverend Stuart that you wouldn't compete," Peter
said. "Have you changed your mind?"

I explained that Sean was `unavailable' and that everyone else had dropped
out. "They'll let me use my original script, but not the one where I added
examples of the cruelty gay people experience."

"So, are you going to enter?" Peter asked.

"Maybe," I answered. "But, I won't let it interfere with being on the `Tug
of War' team. I promise." I looked at the clock and realized I had just
enough time to grab my books and get my Philosophy class. "I'll talk to
Adam and let you know what he says."

After my last class that day, I went to Wesley Hall to see Adam. He was
reading a novel – written in French. "What's that you're reading?" I
asked.

"Madame Bovary – by Flaubert," Adam said. "It's for my French Literature
class. It's only the second novel I've read in French, but I get most of
it. The book was considered obscene when it was first published in the
1850's. And I must admit, it's got me going!"

"Do you need some help?" I asked.

"With French?" Adam asked with a puzzled look on his face.

"No, Silly!" I said. "You know I only took one year of French in high
school, and I'm far from fluent. What I meant was that maybe I could take
over on the parts of the story that are `getting you going.' I'm much more
proficient in that language."

Adam grinned. "Oui, je sais, Monsieur. Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce
souir?"

I knew enough French to understand that sexual invitation. "Oui, s'il vous
plait!" I grinned back.

"Alors, laissez-moi enlever vos vκtements!" Adam said.

Now, Adam had gone beyond my ability to understand French
conversation. But, I knew how to ask for a translation. "Traduire, s'il
vous plait."

Without saying a word, Adam came over to me. He smiled as he began taking
off my clothes.

"Ah! Mes vκtements!" I said, finally understanding he was talking about
my clothes. "How do you say `I want you naked, too' in French?"

"Je te veux nue aussi," Adam said. He guided me down onto his bed. He
looked into my eyes. "Je t'aime," he said.

"Je m'aime aussi," I replied. Suddenly, Adam started laughing.

"What?" I asked. "What's so funny? What did I say?"

Adam continued to laugh, and I became quite embarrassed. Finally, he took a
deep breath. "I told you that I love you," he said. "And you said ..." Adam
started laughing again. "You said that you love you, too."

Now, I was totally embarrassed! But, Adam's laughter was contagious, and I
started cracking up right along with him. Fortunately, however, the feeling
of our bodies pressed together finally took over. Stifling our giggles, we
began kissing. Soon, we were both naked and in the throes of passion.

Sometimes, I'm surprised at how making love captures my total attention. I
lose awareness of virtually everything around me, focusing only on the
thrill of feeling my lover's body against my own. I love the tingles of
excitement that run through me. The more intimate the contact, the more
aroused I get. I crave the escalating intensity of sexual pleasure until I
can bear it no more; giving in to my desperation and letting go -
experiencing the ultimate joy and relief of orgasm. And then, being held in
my lover's arms and sharing the sweet kisses of love and affection prolong
my feelings of complete physical and emotional satisfaction.

That afternoon, in Adam's bed, I felt all of those things – as well as
the immense pleasure of bringing him to the point of climactic
euphoria. Afterward, we took a nap - snuggled close together.

Several hours later, I woke up when nature called. I slipped out of Adam's
arms and put on my tee-shirt and jeans. Barefoot, I walked down the hall to
the bathroom. When I got back to Adam's room, he was sitting up in bed. He
reached out for me, and I gladly returned to the warmth of his arms around
me.

"I really do love you," Adam said as I rested my head on his chest. He
tightened his arms around me and kissed my forehead.

"Me too," I told him. "Or should I say, Moi aussi?"

"Enough with the French!" Adam teased as he tried to tickle me. I managed
to push his hands away. He kissed me again and then excused himself to the
bathroom.

Since Adam and I had slept through the cafeteria dinner hours, we went off
campus to get something to eat. While we were waiting for our food at a
local Mexican restaurant, I told Adam what Ms. Sanborn had said about
Reverend Stuart and the oratory competition.

"I think you should do it," Adam said. "The first oratory you wrote was
very clear on your opinions about the persecution of gay people. Even if
you don't get to expand on the topic, speaking to a large audience and
standing up for your beliefs would be pretty cool."

"That's what Ms. Sanborn thought," I said. "I guess I'll do it – even
though my parents might be there."

"Oh! That's right!" Adam said. "It's not only Celebration Day, but it's
Parents' Day as well."

"That it is," I said. "And, I'm on a `Tug of War' team with Peter that
day. He's asking Tom and Mitch to join us. Peter wants me to invite you to
be part of our team."

"That'd be great!" Adam said enthusiastically. "I'd love to! It sounds like
fun!"

"We're calling ourselves `The Plymouth Rocks.' Will your parents be there?"
I asked.

"No," Adam answered. "I'm kind of disappointed. They're still in Paris, and
it's too far to travel for just one day."

"If my parents come, maybe you can hang out with us," I suggested. "We'll
adopt you for the day!"

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Joel," Adam said. "I think your
mother doesn't like me very much. Remember when I was at your house for
Thanksgiving? She didn't even want me to sit next to you."

"That was only because Komiko was there," I told Adam. "Mom has this dream
that Komiko and I will get married and make a bunch of grandchildren for
her. But, my mother loved listening to you sing, and she liked how polite
you are."

"Well, maybe," he said. "Do you think they're coming down?"

"I'll call home tonight to make sure," I said.

I was famished by the time the burritos and tacos were served. I had
skipped breakfast and lunch that day, and making love with Adam had drained
me of almost all of the energy I had left. I ate like a pig!

When Adam and I returned to campus, I wasn't feeling well. He and I said
goodnight, and I went to my room. I wanted to call home, but I decided to
wait until my nausea went away. About ten minutes later, I felt like I was
going to throw up. I raced to the bathroom and got there just in time.

I returned to the room to get my caddy. I went back to the bathroom,
brushed my teeth, and rinsed my mouth with Listerine. Then, I took a long,
hot shower. It was good to feel clean again, but then I started
experiencing intense pangs of hunger. I knew I should eat something, but
the thought of food was disgusting. I drank two large glasses of water to
help me feel full. "I'll just hold off until breakfast to eat something," I
thought to myself.

When I did go down to the pay phone later that night, I felt a little
better. I called home, and my mother answered. I lied when she asked how I
was doing. "Fine; no problems," I said. "Have you and Dad heard about the
Oberlin Day Celebration? It's Parents' Day, too."

"Yes!" Mom said. "The school sent us a flyer. It sounds like a lot of fun!"

"So, you're coming?" I asked.

Mom was silent for a moment. Then she said, "Of course we're coming, Joel!
What kind of parents do you think we are?!?"

I had learned that the best thing to do when my mother got snippy with me
was to ignore it and just continue the conversation.

"Oh! I'm so glad you can come!" I said as if I were greatly relieved. "Adam
is disappointed that his parents won't be able to attend, and I just wanted
to be sure you guys didn't have some work thing that would keep you home."
Then, just to ensure she'd stop being impatient with me, I deliberately
played to her ego. "I've been a little homesick, and I miss you."

"Aww, Honey!" Mom said sympathetically. "We've missed you, too!"

"Bingo!" I thought to myself. I had been successful in changing the mood of
the conversation.

"I think you and dad will have a great time," I said. "I've decided to
enter the oratory contest that Oberlin is hosting that day. There will be
students competing from other faith-based colleges. I'll be giving the same
oratory that I told you about; the one I gave in the chapel last semester."

Then, I lied again. "I'd like it if you and dad could hear my speech."

"Oh! That's wonderful!!! Your dad and I would love that!" Mom said. "And, I
bet you'll win!"

As always, my parents' expectations that I'd be better than everyone else
upset me. But, I suppressed those feelings, too.

"Well, who knows? Maybe I'll win," I said. "But, I have no idea how stiff
the competition will be from the other colleges. Oh, and I forgot to tell
you. I'm also part of a team that will be in the Oberlin `Tug of War'
games."

There was silence on the other end of the phone. Then, Mom said, "Why on
earth would you want to do that? You'll just get dirty, and you could get
hurt!" That was the same argument she had used when she didn't want me to
play football in high school."

"I'll be fine, Mom," I protested. "Actually, I thought Dad would like it if
I joined the team. You know what a sports nut he is."

"Well, I suppose you're right about that," Mom said. "He does love that
kind of thing. But make sure you wear gloves! Rope burns are a real thing,
you know. In fact, don't even worry about it. I'll buy some new, heavy-duty
gloves for you to wear. I'll bring them when we drive down."

I decided not to argue. "Okay, I said. "That'd be great. So, I'll see you
the Saturday after next?"

"We'll be there," Mom assured me. "You take care!"

"Okay, I will," I said. "Bye, Mom. Love you!"

I hung up the phone. As I headed back to the room, my nausea returned.
"Why am I feeling sick to my stomach again?" I wondered.

Mitch was in the room when I got back from talking to my mom. Peter had
already talked to him about being part of `The Plymouth Rocks,' and Tom had
agreed to be on the team. Mitch was excited about the games. Before going
to bed that night, Mitch and I played a few games of cards. We had fun, and
it reminded me how much I liked hanging out with him.

After a good night's sleep and a little breakfast, I felt revived. I
decided to tell Ms. Sanborn that I would accept Reverend Stuart's
compromise. When I met with her later that afternoon, she seemed pleased
that I would participate in the oratory contest. She picked up the phone to
call the Reverend while I was still in her office.

"Ask him what time the contest is, please," I requested. "I'm scheduled to
be in the `Tug of War' games at 2:00 that afternoon."

I listened to one side of the conversation as Ms. Sanborn talked to
Reverend Stuart on the phone. I could tell the Reverend was
pleased. Ms. Sanborn asked about the time issue.

After the call ended, she told me that I would be speaking at 11:30 that
morning. "But there is one problem," she said. "The awards ceremony is at
2:00, but you can send a representative to accept any award you might
receive. Are your parents going to be here? Maybe they could attend for
you."

"Yeah," I said. "I think my mom might be willing to go to the awards
ceremony for me."

I called home before dinner that night and talked to my dad. He said he was
sure that Mom would be happy to attend the awards ceremony for me. And, as
I knew he would, Dad said that he wanted to watch the `Tug of War." So, the
plans were set.

The time until the Oberlin Day Celebration passed quickly. The weather had
become much warmer, and the trees were starting to bud. The university
spruced-up the campus and placed signs all around to help parents find the
venues for the various meetings, banquets, competitions, and ceremonies. I
have to admit, Oberlin did a great job preparing for the celebration. My
friends and I found ourselves looking forward to the festivities. And,
everyone was jubilant when the university sent out a memorandum
discouraging professors from scheduling tests or having papers due early
the following week!

My parents didn't get to campus in time for the special breakfast buffet
Oberlin served the morning of the Celebration Day. But, they did arrive in
time for the `Welcome Meeting' for parents of freshman students. Mom and
Dad came over to Pilgrim Hall after the meeting. I was in my room waiting
for them when they knocked on the door.

After greetings and hugs, I explained that some of my friends and their
parents were in the activities room behind the front desk. Mom and Dad said
they'd like to meet everyone. Before we left my room, Mom had me try on the
new gloves she bought. They were heavy-duty, cut-resistant gloves with
knuckle pads!  They fit me well, but I wished that Mom would stop going
overboard – on everything!

A few minutes later, we entered the activities room. I saw Mitch, Peter,
and Tom standing in a group with their parents. I went over to meet their
parents and to introduce mine. The four sets of parents seemed to hit it
off, and soon, they were talking amongst themselves as my friends and I
stepped away.

"This is sort of creepy, isn't it?" Tom said under his breath.

"Yeah," Mitch replied. "I'm not used to listening to Mom and Dad talk about
me to other people!"

"Hey, where's Adam?" Peter asked me.

"He's at the art studio setting up," I answered. "They're having a gallery
sale of the student's work. He's going to meet me at the Chapel for the
oratory contest," I said. "It starts in twenty minutes."

"Sorry we can't be there," Tom said, speaking for the group. "All of our
parents want to see the Planetarium show. The university has been promoting
it to raise donations for the Astronomy Department."

When it was time to go to the Chapel, my parents and I walked across
campus. "I like your friends and their families," Mom said. "They all seem
like good Christian people; the kind we hoped for when we sent you to
Oberlin."

Without thinking, I let my sarcasm slip out. "Yup," I said. "Not a sinner
in the bunch."

Mom gave me a dirty look, so I quickly redirected the
conversation. "Speaking of Christian fellowship," I said. "Adam is coming
to hear my speech. Since he'll be all alone, I was hoping you guys would
sit with him."

"Of course," Dad responded. "Mom and I both liked Adam when he came to
Detroit at Thanksgiving. I'm glad you two are still friends. He's a very
polite young man."

"Yeah," I agreed. "Adam always calls me out if I say something rude or
sarcastic."

"Good!" Mom said. "Bring him along the next time you come home."

Adam was waiting for us outside of the Chapel. Dad shook his hand, and my
mom hugged him. "You will sit with us, won't you, Adam?" Mom asked. "We can
form our own little cheering section for Joel!"

Mom, Dad, and Adam found seats in a pew near the front of the sanctuary. I
went to check in with Reverend Stuart.

I found him in his office going over his introductory remarks for the
competition. He told me that nine students were competing from other
colleges. "One of the gentlemen won last year's competition in Tennessee,"
Reverend Stuart said. "But, I think you can outdo him – if you would
just cut the last of that gay sacrilege out of your speech."

I was dumbfounded! Was Reverend Stuart going back on his word? Or, was he
just harassing me in a final attempt to control my every word? I considered
quitting the competition on the spot and walking out. But, the fact that my
parents were in the sanctuary stopped me. Then, I heard the little voice in
my head that tells me to do the right thing.

"I think it's a little late to change our deal," I said. "But, I know how
much you want Oberlin to do well today. I promise; I'll do my best to make
you proud. Should I go sit with the other contestants in the choir loft?"

Reverend Stuart softened his attitude a bit. "Yes. It's almost time to
start. And, Joel," he said. "Good luck."

All of the other speakers were in the choir loft when I entered and sat
down. I opened the folder that I had brought with me – just to make
sure, for the umpteenth time, that I had my script. A student assistant
handed me the last remaining name tag. I removed the backing and stuck the
tag just below the upper-left hand corner of my suit jacket. I looked
around, wondering if I should introduce myself to our guest orators. When
no one returned my attempt at eye contact, I gave up. I noticed Adam and my
parents looking at me. Ms. Sanborn and Mrs. Campbell, the Registrar, were
seated right behind them. Then, I saw Reverend McAllister entering the back
pew. I began to feel very anxious!

I was scheduled to speak next to last, so I got to hear most of the other
oratories before it was my turn to speak. There was a wide range of writing
and speaking abilities among the first eight contestants. As in the perfect
bell curve, two of the speakers were poor, four were mediocre, and two were
pretty good.

The poor speakers lost their places and had to repeat themselves
occasionally. They only expressed basic and traditional ways of thinking
about religion. The slightly better speeches included a few references to
the writings of modern-day theologians.

The two best speakers had polished writing styles. They not only included a
few contemporary thoughts about religion, but they also added some
humor. It surprised me, however, that none of the first eight speakers said
anything about their religious doubts or questions. Nor did they include
anything controversial. When it was my turn to walk to the podium, I was so
nervous that I considered cutting the more provocative parts of my speech.

Fortunately, I regained my composure as soon as I looked out at the
audience from behind the podium. Just as I had experienced in debate
tournaments, and in The Messenger when I had to take over lead role at the
last minute, I felt a sense of calm. I was confident, and I knew that I
could share my faith journey with the people who were waiting for me to
speak.

I hoped that the audience would laugh when I talked about my dreadful,
pre-school fear of death, prompted by my recitation of, "And if I die
before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take." The people in the pews did
laugh, and they also seemed amused as I recounted how I had been taught to
structure my own prayers in Sunday school – never being too greedy, of
course!

The audience became very quiet when I shared with them how I now question
many of the teachings of The Old Testament. There was a mixed reaction when
I criticized the intolerance of society in accepting diversity –
including respect for non-Christian religious beliefs, interracial
marriage, gay relationships, and gender equality. I saw some scowls in the
audience, but I also noticed a few heads nodding in agreement with me.

The last part of my oratory was about how I viewed prayer as a college
student. I admitted to wondering if God really listens to every one of the
millions of prayers that people from all over the world make each day. And,
I shared my feelings of guilt whenever I asked God for more than I already
have; for more blessings than I have already received.

"I am blessed with so many things that most people may never have," I
said. "I have a loving family and good friends. I have a home that provides
shelter, safety, and comfort. I have plenty of food and all the clean water
I want. I have good health, and I have access to doctors and hospitals
whenever I might need them. And, I have been given the opportunity for an
excellent college education. Asking God for anything more seems like I'm
asking him to love me more than he loves other people. I feel as if I am
asking God to put my comfort and hopes above the needs of millions of
people who are sick and suffering; people who don't have shelter, or enough
to eat and drink; people who are living in fear and have little hope for
the future. Now, when I pray, I ask God to use my life to help others; to
give me the strength to stand up for what is right; and to make the world
– his world – a kinder, less judgmental and more accepting place."

I looked at the audience, and I saw that some people seemed touched by my
words. But, some were skeptical and probably thinking that I wasn't being
completely honest. "They think that I'm not as altruistic as I claim to
be," I thought to myself. "Better try to win them over." So, I added
something extemporaneously.

"Today," I said. "I have tried to share my faith journey with you. And, it
is a journey. I struggle with doubts. And frequently, I fall short of doing
what I know is the right thing to do. Yes, it is true that I try not to ask
God for more than I already have. And, I never want to ask him – or her
– to love me more than others. But, I am only human. And, more often
than I care to admit, I find myself asking for selfish little things
throughout the day. `God, please don't let me flunk my Chemistry test!'
`Lord, please don't let Reverend McAllister assign a paper over
Thanksgiving break!' `If it's not too much trouble, God, is there any way
we could have a snow day tomorrow?' I guess I need to learn to express my
day-to-day personal wishes without invoking the name of our Lord."

It was time to end my speech. "As my life continues, for as long as God has
planned, my faith journey will continue. I look forward to that, and I have
faith that, in the end, I will have fulfilled the purpose for my life."

I sat down to a nice round of applause. My parents were clapping the
loudest, but that was okay. At least they didn't try to start a standing
ovation!

I looked directly at Adam. He was clapping slowly – with a sweet, loving
smile that melted my heart. "Maybe someday," I thought to myself, "I can be
open about whom I love – and with whom I want to be."

I have to admit that I didn't pay too much attention to the final
speaker. I was pleased with how well my oratory had gone, but I was
questioning myself. How could I have done better? Were more people upset
about or supportive of my comments about the Old Testament? And, what did
my parents think about my calls for racial and gender equality – and
acceptance of gay people?

As soon as the competition was over, I left the choir loft and went down
into the sanctuary to find Adam and my parents. Dad slapped me on the
shoulder. "Good job, Slugger!" he said. Mom gave me a big hug. "I knew
you'd be great!" she said.

I almost laughed out loud when Adam only gave me a high-five. "Not bad –
for a freshman!" he said. I knew he was purposely keeping his distance for
my parents' sake. Still, I missed the hug that I knew he wanted to give me.

The four of us went to the Celebration Day luncheon in the cafeteria near
Pilgrim Hall. Adam and I had a hard time not laughing when we saw the feast
that Oberlin had laid out to impress the parents. A chef carved juicy
roasts of beef and turkey, as well as honey-cured hams. Student workers
provided beverage service to all of the tables. The salads were crisp. The
vegetables and side dishes were all fresh and hot, and the desserts were
catered by a well-known, local bakery.

"You know we don't eat like this every day," I said to my mom and dad. "As
soon as the parents go home, it will be back to cereal for breakfast;
cold-cut sandwiches for lunch, and mystery meat for dinner."

"Oberlin should hire a Registered Dietician to oversee their food choices,"
my mom said. "I think I'll speak to someone before I leave."

Dad quickly changed the subject. "You did a great job with your oratory,
Son," he said. "Yours was the only speech that seemed both honest and
personal. And, I liked the humor you threw in. But, I would have left out
the part about tolerating the gay lifestyle."

"Yes, Joel!" Mom added. "You know what the Bible says about that!"

I looked at Adam. His lips were pursed, and he shook his head ever so
slightly. He was telling me to let it go; so I did.

To change the subject, I asked Adam about his plans to take art classes in
Paris in the summer. My mom and dad seemed very interested in learning more
about Oberlin's study-abroad program, and we finished lunch without further
uncomfortable conversations.

My parents left to hear a presentation about Oberlin's Placement Office for
graduating students. Mom assured me that she'd be done in time to attend
the Oratory Awards Ceremony, and Dad promised to be at the soccer field by
2:00 p.m. Adam and I went back to the dorms to change clothes for the `Tug
of War' competition.



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