Obama’s Safe School Czar, Kevin Jennings, was selected primarily because he was the founder and former executive director of the Gay, Lesbian, and Straight Education Network (GLSEN).
During a GLSEN sponsored conference in 2000, public employees met with high school students to discuss and even encourage various sexual techniques. Up until recently, courts had a gag order on recordings from the conference, but they are now available to the public.
Warning: The following material is very explicit.
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Below are two discussions recorded during this conference.
Full audio available here.
Woman: Question is: What’s fisting?
Man: A little known fact is that you don’t make a fist like this. When they do it, it’s like this. This is a lot easier than this. [laughter]
Woman: You work your way up to it… [unclear] one finger, two fingers, three fingers … Some people can take a hand, or they can’t take a hand.
While speaking, the man leading the discussion was positioning his hand and showing 14 year olds how to insert their entire hand into the rectum of their sex partner.
During another meeting, a different public employee at this GLSEN sponsored event asked a group of 14-year-olds if it was rude to spit rather than swallow during oral sex:
Male Teacher: … Spit versus swallowing - I don’t know about the calorie count of cum. All right. Is it rude? Let’s ask this question: Is it rude not to swallow?
Students: No! Oh, no! [Many "no's" from the children.]
Male Teacher: No. So it’s in good bedroom etiquette … [unclear] to spit out?
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This conference was not an isolated incident, as evidenced by the GLSEN recommended reading list for children. Below are some excerpts from GLSEN recommended books. All of these books are promoted on the GLSEN website or are listed in their “Bibliography of LGBT Themed Books and Videos for Youth.”
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The Full Spectrum
Pages 228 - 229
(The author describes the sexual interactions a group of thirteen-year-old girls has with an 18-year-old boy.)
I am thirteen and my soul bleeds poetry.
…
Nicole’s dad has this friend named Chris. He’s really cool. He’s eighteen and he comes over to Nicole’s house to play Magic: The Gathering and drink beers with Nicole’s dad. He usually spends the night, because Nicole’s dad doesn’t want him to drive home. Kim is sort of dating him. She thinks they’re engaged. Nicole and I sleep in the basement, and Chris sleeps upstairs in the living room.
…
One night Chris kisses me in the dark on Nicole’s living room floor. It’s after five in the morning, which I know because I watch the clock the whole time. His mouth is huge. I’ve never kissed a boy before. It turns into a habit, and sometimes Nicole and I lie in sleeping bags on either side of him, pretending we don’t know that he has one hand up each of our shirts. Once, Chris has his hand in my pants and asks me if I’m awake.
Kim has sex with Chris on her kitchen floor one night in December, and Nicole and I want her to die.
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Reflections of a Rock Lobster
Page 16
(During a sleepover at the home of an elementary school classmate, the author as a child touches his friend’s genitals without permission.)
After Billy’s family moved I developed a friendship with a new classmate named Bob Cote and I had feelings for him similar to the ones I had for Billy. Sex, however, was not a part of our relationship. In between catching toads, flying kites and swimming nude in a pond in the woods, sex never came to mind.
One night Bob invited me to sleep over. When I went I expected that we would just sit around and watch TV, but as the evening wore on I found myself becoming attracted to Bob. His mother, Mrs. Cote, had been keeping a close eye on us all evening so I waited until bedtime to make my advance. Before bed, I insisted on bringing my bed within a few feet of his. Once the lights were out I silently reached my left hand over to his bed and slipped it under his sheet and through his pajama bottoms.
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Reflections of a Rock Lobster
Page 26
(In junior high, the author had loveless sex with another boy whom he didn’t particularly like.)
The last holdout from my childhood sexual years was David Beamer. Dave was slower than other kids so he went to a special school. He and I never had a close relationship but once Bob was gone I turned to Dave in a desperate search for security and companionship. I began to frequent Dave’s house and to have sex with him, yet our communication only became more diluted. The more I tried, the worse the situation got. It was torture because I wanted more out of these relationships than sexual stimulation.
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Passages of Pride
Page 79
(A woman recalls the “sexploration” she engaged in between the ages of seven and nine.)
When she was seven or eight, the games of the older boys turned sexual. “I was doing a lot of sexploration,” she recalls, “even at those young ages”—playing doctor or Dracula, coming home with hickeys on her neck. “It kind of got carried away in the course of being in contact with those boys.” At age nine, she found herself in a closet with a couple of boys who were trying to talk her into having sex. “They wanted to have intercourse,” she says. “I remember they had their penises out and they wanted to try it. I don’t remember any penetration or anything, but we tried.”
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In Your Face
Pages 113 - 114
(The narrator describes how she sometimes likes being promiscuous.)
And I realized that I’d always sort of wanted to experience that; I’d read about that older bar scene and I wanted to be just like that when I grew up. I wanted to be like the rad player dyke from Hell–somebody who f**ks around just so they can, someone who works the scene and doesn’t particularly care who she’s screwing, no emotional attachment. Of course, I’m incapable of being a player; I have the problem that I wind up falling in love with anybody I sleep with, so that kinda cuts me out of the spectrum.
…
I started working the social scene after I broke up with my third girlfriend. For the past six months, I’ve basically been a slut. I have been serially monogamous–I’m not sure if you could really call it that, because it never lasted long enough to be called monogamy.
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Mama’s Boy, Preacher’s Son
Pages 91 - 92
(Kevin Jennings recounts his early sexual experiences with a boy named Mike.)
I can’t recall exactly how we ended up in my bedroom, except Mike saying something like, “Wanna try it?” I nodded yes and, like a robot, got up and followed Mike to my room.
I pulled down my shorts and lay on the bed, unmoving. Mike kept his clothes on. While it was happening, I was in heaven. I couldn’t believe how it felt. But as soon as it was over I went to hell, filled with shame at what we had done. Mike obviously thought it was his turn now, but I pulled up my shorts and told him to go—go now. I was filled with disgust at the faggot who had lowered himself to do this “to” me. Confused and probably hurt, Mike left.
Mike and I would have several more encounters during my sophomore year, probably because he didn’t have many other options. The pattern was always the same, although we did take our clothes off eventually. Sexually speaking, it was always a one-way street, a street only Mike traveled down, which allowed me to imagine on some level that I wasn’t gay, only Mike was.
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Queer 13
Pages 43 - 45
(A 13-year-old boy has a violent sexual encounter with an older man, which causes the boy to become desperate for sex, and he ends up spending the rest of the year promiscuously getting “my cock sucked and my ass f**ked” by “a seemingly endless supply of dicks” belonging to older men, concluding with “I really did enjoy those sexual encounters.”)
One day, on the bus to shop class, this ugly f**k of a man sat behind me and put his foot in the crack of my seat. He was skinny, with a patchy, pencil-thin mustache that besotted his oily face. I ignored him for most of the trip. I did notice that he changed buses when I did, but this time he sat beside me. He tried a little small talk, but then he suddenly and very nervously put his hand on my crotch. It never occurred to me to tell him not to. I’m not sure if I agreed to it or not, but he managed to get me to follow him to a nearby rest room at another secondary school “to play.” In the bathroom stall, lit by two scant rows of fluorescent lights, half of them burnt-out or flickering, he tried to kiss me, but I was too nauseated to do that. He sucked my nipples and played with my cock. I had no idea what to do. He then tried to get me to suck his. Somehow I knew this was expected of me, but I just could not put his ugly, foul-smelling penis into my mouth. When he forced it in I gagged so hard I started vomiting. Undaunted, he tried to put his cock in my ass. Thankfully, he came prematurely. He pulled up his trousers and left me in the toilet stall confused, frightened, crying, and praying to God for forgiveness of my horrible sin. I spent a good deal of time locked in the stall, trying to clean up, trying to wipe the smell of that act off with wet toilet paper, but I was doused in the stench of that man and what he had done.
This incident should have soured me on men, but it only made me more confused and needful. One day later, something accidental happened that would change my life. I discovered that at a urinal I could actually see someone else’s penis. I was ecstatic and fearful, but I wanted more. One day, at a local shopping mall, as I was trying to sneak a peek at penises in the rest rooms, a man at the urinal actually turned to me and started playing with himself. He flashed me a gold-toothed smirk and motioned for me to come over. Shocked, I zippered up and ran out, but the seeds had been laid. The whole world of rest-room sex had opened itself up to me.
Soon I was spending a great deal of time hanging out in shopping malls and cruising the rest rooms for sexual encounters. My rest-room exploits started to be a great burden on my mind. The better part of the year was spent making deals with God, asking for a sign, then ignoring and rationalizing everything I perceived to be a sign, praying for forgiveness, and being obsessed with raging hormones and a seemingly endless supply of dicks. I believed that it was all part of a test by God to see if I was a sinner. I was.
I had known before that something was up, and that I was attracted to men, but this toilet thing was a whole new realm of sin and Satan, a new level that I had never before imagined. The following years were spent praying for forgiveness and trying to purge my homosexuality through prayer and Bible study. While my classmates wondered what sex was like, content to masturbate over pinups, I was out there having my cock sucked and my ass f**ked. These were grown men I was tricking with. Some were nice, grateful for a young boy to have their way with. Some were harsh and mean. There were a few nasty encounters, brutal and painful experiences, near-rapes, but through it all, I never thought that I had the ability to say no.
I was scared about what I was doing, scared of God’s judgment and of being caught in all those rest rooms and parks, but I really did enjoy those sexual encounters. That feeling of doing it to them and them doing the same for me was just too damn good.
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There’s a lot more; too much to post here really. Why is Kevin Jennings in charge of watching over our school children?
To be clear, this post is not about supporting or not supporting gays or gay rights. This post is about the radical agenda of groups like GLSEN and activists like Kevin Jennings.
