Boston Globe, Friday, December 10, 1993. Metro/Region Section p. 37

BROOKLINE- Though she was already running late, Anna Cotton wasn't going
to take another step until she got the answer to her urgent question:
"Did the bill pass?"

Sarah Lonberg-Lew nodded yes. A smile lit up Cotton's face.

Then, like any other influential Beacon Hill lobbyists, the pair took a
moment to revel in the success at propelling a controversial bill
through the legis- lative maze.

But these are not your average Iobbyists, the omnipresent, middle-aged
suits who often turn State House hallways into "Gucci Gulch."
Lonberg-Lew is 17, Cotton is 14, and they were quietly celebratlng in
the hallway of a different public building, the one where they spend
most of their time: Brookline High. School.

Nonetheless, they and hundreds of other students are the primary reason
that, possibly as soon as today, Gov. Weld will sign into law a bill
that will make Massachusetts the first state in the nation to outlaw
discrimination against gay and lesbian students in public schools.

It will be a gratifying moment for all the students, gay and straight,
who over the past two months brought a remarkable youth crusade to
Beacon Hill.

With rallies, marches and vigils, they, spoke up for themselves and
their friends to overcome the skepticism or indifference of lawmakers
who had allowed the bill to languish for almost three years, and they
did not stop until the legislation finally was approved on Monday.
STUDENTS, Page 39

Hannon, 16 and gay, who dropped out of a Boston school after undergo-
ing daily torment from classmates. "When you give youth a chance, they
can do a lot."

"A lot of the credit has to go to the young people who took the time to
advocate, to let their senators and representatives know that they felt
the bill was important," agreed Lt. Gov. Paul Cellucci, who won kudos
from gay students for supporting their cause.

State and national observers say the success of the teenagers lobbying
campaign may usher in a new era of political activism by gay youths, who
historically have been reluctant to fuse their private identities with
public action.

Moreover, noting that several other states quickly followed Mass-
achusetts' lead after the state banned discrimination against gays in
housing and employment in 1989, observers predict that the new "gay
student rights" law will prompt similar legislation elsewhere. The 1989
law did not cover students.

The cause remains controversial, however, and Weld may pay a political
price - in Massachusetts and on the national stage - for signing legis-
lation that some contend is loaded with hidden implications.

"If Weld is to sign this, he would be the biggest fool that ever walked
the face of this earth," declared Nancy Sutton of Needham, executive
director of Family First, a conservative group. "This has been
presented in a very dishonest way. Teachers will be forced to teach
about the homosexual lifestyle as normal and natural, which it is not."

But proponents insist the new law will only guarantee that schools will
no longer be a place gay and lesbian students dread to go - an esti-
mated 28 percent of gay youths drop out of high school - by extending
anti-discrimination protections to them.

The law will add "sexual orientation" to a list of categories
protected under a state law against discrimination, which now includes
race, color sex, religion and national origin. Proponents believe it
will entitle students to file law suits against schools if they believe
administrators have not responded adequately to charges of
discrimination and will allow students to bring same-sex dates to proms,

However, gay students said their chief goal is ensuring that they can-
not be treated differently by students and teachers or denied admis-
sion to school activities because of their sexual orientation.

"Adolescence is definitely hard enough without people harassing you for
whom you choose to like,' said Lonberg-flew, founder of the Gay-Straight
Alliance at Brookline High School.

To bring the new law into being over the past two months high school
students from all over the state took the Massachusetts Legislature by
storm and by surprise.

They staged massive rallies inside the State House, one of which
featured Cellucci as a speaker, and Lonberg-flew, among others, staged
weekly, sign-holding vigils outside the State House. They fanned out in
teams of five to lobby each senator it person, and deluged them with
letters and phone calls.

Despite their efforts, however, it appeared the bill would remain mired
in the Senate's Committee or Bills in Third Reading, where Senate
leaders sometimes bury legislation they dislike. So two weeks ago,
hundreds of students rallied and marched at the State House, chanting
their demand that the bill not be allowed to die a quiet death. The
next day, it was discharged from the committee, and passage by both leg-
islative branches followed swiftly.

But political activity carries a price, as 17-year-old Fred Simon dis-
covered. Simon, a senior at Lexington High School, said a classmate who
objected to his work on behalf of the bill confronted him a few weeks
ago, pushed him and called him a "faggot."

"I confronted him on it," Simon said. "I said, 'Why'd you call me
that?'"

That brand of assertiveness may be as lasting a result of the campaign
to pass the gay student rights bill as the bill itself, in the view of
some observers.

"Historically, gay kids have cowered in fear and hidden their identi-
ties in response to threats," said Dot Gorton, head of the Greater
Boston Lesbian/Gay Political Alliance. "But this bill passed because
the case was made so convincingly by the people who needed it: the gay
kids themselves."