Someone I know came out to their parents the other day. It went okay, as those things go. I was going to say "You know how it is," but you don't. I forget that you don't sometimes. Perhaps that's the problem.

I came out to my parents the summer after my freshman year. I remember sitting on the floor with my mom and realizing through our conversation that I was about to tell her. Nothing in particular had happened. I hadn't entered the conversation thinking that I would tell her. But at some point during it, I realized that I was going to. She asked about my friend and I heard myself tell her that we weren't friends, but lovers. I remember thinking that I should make sure to tell her that lovers don't just love each other, they fuck as well. I needed her to know that I loved this man and that I loved his body. Shocked? Well, I don't care. It's the truth and, for once, it shall stand on its own and not amend itself into a shape that your ears can take.

The conversation passed. The week passed. Then my parents let loose. They lashed out. I guess they needed to. They said things to me that I have never told another living soul and probably never will. They said things no one should ever have to hear. I tell you this not to make them seem evil or to seek your pity. I tell you because I always thought it was their right. I thought it was their right to do whatever it took-to lash out, to scream, to grieve for a lost son not yet dead, to say whatever they wanted. I thought it was my lot to take it. I had to earn the right to be loved again, for look at how I had hurt them. It didn't matter what I had gone through. It was my cross to bear and everyone I talked to about it agreed. Give it time, they said. It's all part of the process.

My friend who recently came out has an aunt who upon finding out what happened, said something that has rang in my ears ever since I heard it. She said simply, "no matter what, you can never say such things to your child." No one ever said that to me when I came out to my parents. No one ever said that it wasn't okay for my parents to make me question my worth as a human being. And then I reached upon the realization that makes me write this column: no one is saying it now.

One in four of all gay and lesbian teenagers tries to kill him or herself or considers it. Gay teenagers have the highest suicide rate of any minority group. A third of all homeless teenagers is gay, kicked out of their homes after coming out to their parents. No one says that this is not okay. I've spent years as an activist on many causes, gay rights being one of them. Yet not once, ever, have I ever heard someone simply state that homophobia is wrong. That it's immoral. That it's inhumane.

Even now, I can hear you disagree in your mind. It isn't a good thing, you think, but inhumane? Yeah. Inhumane. Racism is immoral. Homophobia isn't. Homophobia is, at best, "not a good thing." Nigger is an unspeakable word. Faggot isn't. Anyone can say faggot. In the litmus test of all culture-the movies-even a dorky hero like Michael J. Fox can say faggot. Because it's not wrong, it's just not that okay.

Racism is not a debate. Homophobia is. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of people who will come out against racism but not against homophobia. I'm sick of it being okay to be homophobic. Please don't think of the ramifications of homophobia only as people getting tied to a post and killed. Homophobia is when I have to come out everyday. It's when I enter a room and immediately look around for allies. It's the word faggot all over the television. It's the military and the anti-marriage laws. It's never hearing one person say, "It's not okay to say that to your child." It's when being yourself hurts your family. It's the debate that surrounds homosexuality. It's the fact that a debate exists at all.

I don't want allies that say homophobia is not okay because gay people are human beings too. I want allies that say homophobia is wrong because gay people are gay people. Why hide? In one of my readings for class, Sidney Tarrow's book Protest in Movement, the author described the March on Washington as being successful because they overcame the radical drag queens and made it into a mass movement by downplaying their differences. Fuck that. The March on Washington is gay. It's about gay people and gay rights and other things gay and it makes me so angry that everyone-from the media to "allies"-keeps talking about how gay it wasn't. It's because they want to appeal to a wider audience-a wider audience that's afraid to say that it's wrong to trample on the rights of gay people though it will say that it's wrong to trample on the rights of "human beings." Am I the only person who sees something wrong with this picture?

You could take this article as a bitch fest. You could say it's a queen having a fit. You should. It's both. And it's gay and about gay people. It's also me coming out again, this time as a gay man who won't ask the question-"Are you okay with who I am?"-because I'm sick of giving you a chance to approve of me. So you can think that I'm being unfair and think that I'm being offensive. You can think that people have a right to their opinion of gay people. You can argue that it's okay for someone to think that homosexuality is wrong as long as he or she doesn't go and attack gay people. I'm here to tell you that if you think that, then you are homophobic, because I deserve the right to be able to say that my existence is not a debate. I will say out loud something that every ally and enemy of gay people needs to hear: you don't know what it's like, because if you did, homophobia would never be a debate.

Don't call yourself my ally if you're not willing to say that. The closet is for clothes and the fence is for cowards. Get off it if you dare. I'm sick of defending my humanity and I won't do it anymore.