Corey can take the hits now, but hiding the truth about himself was so depressing in his sophomore and junior years that he let his grades drop, skipped practice and even skipped school. When an adult friend started ripping homosexuals at a Super Bowl party in January 1998, Corey couldn't decide whether to punch him or cry. He knew he had to do something.
First, he told a guidance counselor he was gay and then a few teachers. They all supported him. A year later he told his parents. Fine. Then his best friend, Sean. Uh-oh. Big problem. Sean started crying. Corey asked him what was wrong. "I'm sorry you couldn't share this with me before," Sean said. They're still best friends.
Since coming out, Corey says, he has heard from "hundreds" on the Internet, including athletes who wish they had the guts to come out too. "But," says Corey, "they always say, 'At my school? No way. It'd be impossible.' "
At Masconomet, a public school with an enrollment of 1,300, Corey is the football captain who had even more moral courage than physical. He's admired by his teammates. In fact, nothing much changed between them, except on bus rides home after wins, when the whole team sang YMCA together. Well, it isn't Hunker Down, You Hairy Bulldogs, but it works.
Maybe we're actually getting somewhere in the U.S. A young man who leads young men comes out as gay, and it makes such a ruckus you can still hear the crickets chirp. In fact, last month the Boston Gay, Lesbian and Straight Education Network handed its Visionary Award not just to Corey, but also to his teammates. Can you imagine that? A high school football team getting an award for tolerance?
When I was growing up, my best friend was a hilarious kid I'll call Danny. Along about high school, he stopped coming around-Then, in college, he showed up in the Gay Club photo in the yearbook. After that, Danny didn't take my calls.
It's a lousy feeling. I guess I'm not the kind of person he could've shared that with.