As told by Justin Mendillo, GLAAD Campus Ambassador:

I found Jack with his hands folded together, kneeling, beside a bench in the park. The sun had just begun to set. His eyes were closed as I approached. His often-furrowed brow was unusually relaxed as he mouthed words I could not understand.  It was late October and the cold temperature signaled the start of winter coming. Jack was wearing a worn brown leather jacket. Not one to care for clothing, his jeans had become mudded from the spot where he knelt. I sat down on the bench, waiting silently.

Jack opened his blue eyes and began to get up. I noticed the tattoo on the right side of his neck that said “live,” with a circle of hands around it. The look he gave me could be described as grim, but that was just kind of who Jack was. He was a serious man that was not into flowery speak. To Jack, life was already complex enough without making human conversation more difficult than it already is. Our times together were often me dropping in at a location he picked and talking briefly. I thought I was bothering him, but each time after– he asked when the next time would be.

I decided to ask him about his tattoo and what inspired it.

“It’s to remind me to live.” He said.

“Well yeah, but what does that mean to you exactly? I asked.

“To enjoy life.”

I paused and just stared curiously at him. He took a deep sigh.

“I want to live. Sometimes I need that reminder. The hands are the people that got me here. I can’t forget ’em.”

After all the conversations I had with Jack, I never knew too much about the timeline of his life. I only knew the bits he would tell me off and on: how much he liked anime, his dream to one day see a show on Broadway, and the church he went to twice a week. When he spoke about homelessness, it was a singular aspect of his life that was, at times, connected to him, but never defined him. What I did know about were the other people in his life, like the pastor that took him in on a cold night, the social worker with a heart of gold, and the guy he met at a bar who let him stay overnight at his place and didn’t even ask to hook up. I knew about his mentors and the kindness of strangers. In this context, his tattoo made a lot more sense. In all his deep seriousness, at the heart of it, Jack was never solely defined by his struggles with homelessness. The people who helped him along the way were always a big part of who he was and how he defined himself. He was really only meeting with me to give a kind of thanks to them. Or maybe he was trying to emulate them by helping me out. I’m still not really sure. I do remember that day, I asked him how his time on the street impacted how he makes decisions today and he, like always, side stepped the question to jump into a story about Lisandra, the coffee shop worker who told him how to balance his first budget.

This is just one out of the 26 stories in the book I’ve been working on for the better part of 2 years on LGBTQ+ youth experiencing homelessness. After over 100 conversations with homeless LGBTQ+ youth from around the country, I specifically choose the story of Jack because it holds such power, especially on #TrueColorsDay, True Colors Fund’s international day to raise awareness around this prevalent issue. LGBTQ young people are 120% more likely to experience homelessness than non-LGBTQ youth. Many factors contribute to LGBTQ youth homelessness, but the most common reason is family rejection for being LGBTQ.While many of the stories in my book detail the specific, everyday experiences of LGBTQ+ homeless youth, I want to magnify Jack’s message that the casual decisions we make day to day add up. This day is about all the ways you can take steps, small and large, to end youth homelessness. It doesn’t always mean launching a national campaign, but could mean getting your group of friends together to volunteer. It could mean reading the many studies, books, and articles on LGBTQ+ youth homelessness. Even organizing a fundraiser for the hundreds of local and national LGBTQ+ homeless youth organizations.

When I first started volunteering and researching, it was, honestly, out of rage. I saw my friends experience homelessness and saw firsthand the lack of resources for our community. With all the structural problems that contribute to homelessness, I felt like there was nothing I could do. However, after all my conversations, I found an opportunity to amplify the voices of LGBTQ+ homeless youth. I realized that today, in our time, we have the tools and the ability to not only transform the way we as a society handle homelessness, but to end the epidemic. In the conversation about what we can all do for LGBTQ+ homeless youth, we must take the time to listen to and center the youth, themselves. Only then can we really understand how to use our own power and privileges to sustain long term change. Each of us has a role to play in this movement.

I’m an organizer and together we can end LGBTQ+ youth homelessness.

Featured: Justin Mendillo. Photo credit: GLAAD

Justin Mendillo is a Connecticut College senior studying Government and American Studies. He works for Planned Parenthood and CT Equality, and is a GLAAD Campus ambassador.