Personal Narrative: Dauphin High School

Going to Church with my grandmother on Sunday mornings was a normal occurence. My brother and I would sit side by side in the pew, quietly awaiting ques to stand or kneel. I would watch my grandmom with envy as she got up to receive communion, wanting very badly to go as well, to get to eat the bread, to have that experience. To receive the Body of Christ. At the age of five, I was enrolled at Holy Name of Jesus school.
Everyone in my family was raised Catholic, my mother even attended Holy Name when she was young. However, this did not effect their staunch Democratic views and the mindset in which my parents raised me: to be accepting and loving towards others. That being said, there was no active teaching taking place within my home like there was at school.
To them, it was safer; don’t offend anyone, don’t piss off any parents. I knew that, especially in a Catholic school, there would be a majority conservative administration but this statement still surprised me.
After either grade, I was ready to move on. Central Dauphin High School was a big and scary place. It was a place where I made many new friends, interacting with the kind of people I didn’t think actually existed (the goths) and people I thought I was leaving behind.
Sophomore year, I was sitting on my moms bed telling her a story. Through the course of my two years at Central Dauphin, I happened to make several LBGT+ friends. “Why are all your friends gay?” my mother asked me. “Because I happen to like them as people.” I replied, getting irritated (this not being the first time I had been questioned like this). “You’re not gay are you?”
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As soon as my mother spoke these words I became so annoyed that I finally told the truth, “Yes, mom, I am.”
“Oh, my god. Don’t be gay, Molly. Please.”
“Sorry, I’ll try harder next time,” I replied, getting off the bed and going to my