stumble over my own feet. i was the son of a methodist church pianist named jeanette and a cowboy named butch in crowl crowley, texas, and as their son and a kid in a small town, there was a certain image of who i thought i was supposed to be, but as i entered adolescent i started to have feelings i didn t understand and i could not explain that i knew they didn t mesh with the image of what i thought i was supposed to be. i was a sensitive kid, but friendly. i was a band dork, and i played basketball but not very well. i was teased like all kids, but i was fairly confident and i didn t let it bother me much. one day when i was in the 9th grade just starting crowley high school i was cornered by some older kids who roughed me up. they said i was a faggot and i should die and go to hell where i belonged.