Pride, Prejudice, and Homelessness
An open letter to religious parents who exile their LGBTQIA+ kids
To all my LGBTQIA+ friends, readers, and visitors—Happy Pride! The joy and resilience that you all display is a constant inspiration to me that another world is possible. And to my friends who are LGBQIA+ Christians, thank you for helping me keep and grow my faith. If you can believe in the goodness of God and the way of Christ while so many of those who claim such faith mean you so much harm, so can I. And I will continually strive for places of community where I have influence—whether they be churches, shelters, or affordable housing—to be not only safe for you but dignifying and honoring.
For members of this community, I also want to issue a content warning for the rest of this post. I need to speak honestly to my reading community about the harm that has been done and how I’ve witnessed it in my work. It may be triggering. I’ll be talking about rates of homelessness, abuse, exile, and suicide among the LGBTQIA+ community. It is written in the style of an open letter to parents, perhaps like yours, who failed to embrace you because of their religious commitments.
To the parents who exiled, kicked out, forced out, abandoned, or otherwise neglected their children for being gay, trans, non-binary, or any other gender identity or sexual orientation, particularly because of your religious convictions:
My name is Kevin Nye. I’ve worked in homelessness services for almost a decade in both Los Angeles and Minneapolis—and I’ve met too many of your kids.
Here’s a couple things you should know:
They are the best! I can’t believe you missed this. It bums me out that you couldn’t see how great they are because one part of them doesn’t fit your worldview. Your loss, truly.
The single most core aspect of parenting, in any and every religion and outside of them, is to protect your children. And you blew it. Who they are attracted to and how they express their gender are some of the most vulnerable things about them, and they worked up the courage to trust you with that, or perhaps you discovered accidentally… and then you totally blew it. They needed to be protected and cherished, even if you weren’t sure how you felt about it. Believe it or not, their life isn’t about you and how you feel.
You had so many options short of kicking them out… Obviously full acceptance and love is on the table, but I also recognize the position you’re in. I was once deeply conservative on this (and many other issues!) and it can feel like you’re choosing between denying your faith or denying your child, neither of which feel right. But let’s reframe that choice, given that we know a couple things:
> the rates of homelessness for LGBTQIA+ youth are extremely high, so when you kick them out of your home, you likely kicking them out of the experiencing home altogether, at least for a while
> while experiencing homelessness, young people (and especially LGBTQIA+ young people) are highly susceptible to exploitation and victimization. Whatever you think you’re protecting them or yourself for your community from pales in comparison to what they are at-risk of out on their own.
> LGBTQIA+ youth have extremely high rates of suicide, self-harm, anxiety, and depression, and these are directly linked to the contexts (like your unaccepting household) within which they find themselves. When children leave such places (by choice or by force) and face homelessness, those rates jump dramatically again.
> All in all, by choosing to abandon your child, there is a high probability you are sentencing them to homelessness, exploitation, and violence. The choice isn’t “honoring my faith or enabling my child”—it’s whether or not your faith is going to lead you to harm your child or protect them when you disagree with them.
When I (or thousands of other homelessness workers like me) meet your kids, we do our best to provide them with resources—the best of which is a safe place to live. But I have to be honest with you that our backs are against the wall. Shelter beds, affordable apartments, and funding to support them are dwindling. If your kid is lucky enough to find a caring and experienced case manager or organization, the chances of them getting the right resources quickly enough to prevent any further trauma are hopelessly low.
Meanwhile, their room sits empty at your house, like a museum exhibit of the haunting decision you made to prioritize your prejudice over your duty to protect and love your child.
One of the easiest ways to address our growing homelessness crisis is by keeping safe and accessible the places people already live—preventing homelessness before it ever starts. And there are so many ways that we need to do that for so many different people, but to you—religious parent—you could be part of preventing tens of thousands of young people from ever experiencing homelessness if you could simply find a way to make your home safe for your child regardless of how their gender and attraction emerges.
And if you can’t, it has nothing to do with them—that’s on you.
Consider family counseling: someone with a license, not just a pastor. There are plenty of Christian counselors who can help your family navigate the complexities of living out your faith while holding safe space for your child.
Consider talking with your kid. You can listen non-judgmentally to their experience and what they’re feeling, and decide for yourself whether they are being possessed by demonic urges or if they are just a young person figuring out who they are. (Here’s a hint: if these were truly choices, we would see a lot of young people changing their minds after experiencing abuse, neglect, bullying, and abandoning. That young people would end up homeless and harming themselves before “choosing” to be straight or cisgender should tell you all you need to know.)
Lastly, consider that God is good, and God is love, and there’s no version of either that would prefer you send your child to the streets than welcome them in your household. Even if your version of faith compels you to believe that homosexuality or gender fluidity are sinful, the punishment of banishment does not fit the “crime.” Keep them close, love them, and see what happens. Consider attending an affirming church—even just once—to see how the Spirit of God continues to move and be known among communities that embrace God’s image across many spectrums. You might save your kid’s life, and their faith. You might save your own.
For more numbers on LGBTQIA+ homelessness, this data sheet from The Trevor Project is helpful.
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Thanks for a very thoughtful, well-written missive on a subject that often gets murky and twisted: faith and how to follow it. It is easy to worship and identify oneself as a Christian but often downright hard to follow Christ when the path does not go the way you want it to go. I have seen plenty of homeless LGBTQIA+ youth go down a rabbit hole (drugs, drink, homelessness, hopelessness) that they would never have entered if their parents simply listened to them and loved them in spite of not understanding them. I am not a parent, but your warm-hearted yet clear-headed approach to dealing with religion and relationships with others was some food for thought I needed to be served this morning. Thanks Kevin.
Sharing this with everyone I know!