avatarJames Finn

Summary

Ash Tough, a non-binary LGBTQ middle school student, faces discrimination and bullying in Carroll County, Maryland, and advocates for LGBTQ inclusivity in schools, which is met with resistance from the Moms for Liberty group and results in a regressive anti-LGBTQ measure by the school board.

Abstract

Ash Tough, a 13-year-old non-binary student, has been a vocal advocate for LGBTQ rights in Carroll County, Maryland, after experiencing bullying and death threats for bringing a rainbow flag to school. Despite initial support from the school board for LGBTQ-friendly measures, the Moms for Liberty group's aggressive campaign led to the board banning Pride flags in classrooms. This decision has been a setback for LGBTQ visibility and support in schools. Ash, with the help of their mother Stephanie Brown and local PFLAG chapter, continues to fight for LGBTQ inclusivity and is actively campaigning for school board members who support LGBTQ students.

Opinions

  • Ash Tough's experience highlights the importance of LGBTQ visibility and support in schools, emphasizing the positive impact of inclusive symbols like rainbow flags.
  • The actions of Moms for Liberty are portrayed as a targeted attack on LGBTQ students, fueling a hostile school environment and promoting regressive policies.
  • The school board's decision to ban Pride flags is seen as an endorsement of hate and a failure to protect vulnerable students, sending a message that conservative outrage takes precedence over student safety and well-being.
  • Stephanie Brown and Carroll County PFLAG are depicted as allies in the fight against LGBTQ discrimination, working to distribute rainbow flags to all public schools in the county.
  • The narrative suggests that the community should rally around candidates who prioritize love and support for all students, regardless of political affiliation, to combat the toxic message sent by the school board's decision.
  • The author calls for reader support, both through direct action such as voting and signing petitions, and through Medium membership to support the author's work in covering such stories.

This LGBTQ Kid Refuses to Let ‘Moms for Liberty’ Snatch Liberty

Ash Tough won’t take no for an answer

Ash Tough (L) and their friend Oliver outside Carroll County Board of Education on 5/11/22. Photo by Stephanie Brown, used with permission of all parties.

See the cheerful young teen on the left?

That’s Ash Tough, pronounced like tow or toe, which becomes important later. They’re outside a Carroll County, Maryland Board of Education meeting last May. Ash had already made a great impression on board members last November, asking them to help LGBTQ students struggling with bullying and hatred at local schools. Sadly, the good will 13-year-old Ash earned that night has met with fierce resistance from Moms for Liberty, an anti-LGBTQ hate group.

Last May, board members passed one of the most regressive anti-LGBTQ measures in Maryland.

I spoke with Ash and their mom Stephanie Brown the other day, because school board elections are coming up, and Ash WILL NOT give up. They’re asking for your help, so let me tell you their story:

Over a year ago when they were in 8th grade, Ash came to the realization that they’re non-binary. Lots of misunderstanding flies around about that term, so if you don’t know what it means, let Ash explain with a little help from Stephanie:

Ash: I felt really uncomfortable being a female and really uncomfortable being a male, and I did research on my own and found out there were other genders. I was like, “Hey, this describes me exactly!”

Stephanie: I had already done research because Ash had been advocating for the LGBTQ community. I saw their path of transition. I just kind of let it happen the way they wanted it to happen.

Ash: I didn’t make major changes. I’d been wanting to cut my hair really short anyway.

Stephanie: They’ve always been really unique in their dress style and the way they do their hair.

However strongly Ash felt about their personal identity, public changes were minimal. They changed their clothing style a little, asked people to call them by their new gender-neutral first name, and requested that folks use their new pronouns, they and them.

No big deal.

They stayed the same cheerful, friendly kid as ever, well liked by peers and teachers. Ash sounds excited telling me about discovering their non-binary identity. Coming out wasn’t traumatic for them, it was positive and uplifting. Stephanie felt the same way.

Then one day at school about a year ago, Ash got the shock of their life

They didn’t plan to make a scene; they didn’t dream their day would be filled with homophobic slurs and insults. It all started as a cheerful impulse. Ash was getting ready for school one morning and, spur-of-the-moment, grabbed a small rainbow flag to take to classes at Northwest Middle School in Taneytown, Maryland.

It didn’t feel like a monumental decision. “I thought it would make my friends happy,” Ash tells me.

Instead, students started cursing Ash and urging them to die

  • Faggot
  • Queer
  • Bitch
  • Kill yourself

All those words and worse echoed through school hallways

Ash says at least 20 students participated in the anti-LGBTQ slurs, adding that roughly 10 students urged them to commit suicide. Northwest Middle School only has 645 kids, so that kind of intense, open hatred from so many kids left Ash reeling. They went to school in the morning feeling cheerful and happy. They came home feeling like the target of extremist hatred — for absolutely no reason.

That left Stephanie in fighting “mama bear” mode. She got on the phone and started raising hell. Having raised a teenager myself, I can relate. I bet you can too.

What happened next?

Long story short, the middle school principal tried to handle things appropriately, reviewing security camera footage and disciplining students. In the meantime, Ash and Stephanie went online and bought 50 little flags for Ash’s friends to bring to school to show solidarity and love.

— I was disappointed. I felt lost, but I wasn’t really lost. I just didn’t know what my next steps were. I didn’t want teachers to have to choose between supporting students and getting fired. —

When they approached the principal for permission, he said the school had a rule against students carrying flags. Ash accepted that after he explained he’d had problems with students being disruptive with bigger flags, throwing them over their shoulders and running up and down hallways like superheros.

“Yeah, I get that,” Ash tells me, “but …”

Ash doesn’t accept that their tiny little flag CAUSED the hate spewed at them

Seeing it out in the open, raw and ugly, taught Ash a hard but important lesson. And focused their energy on finding solutions. Then Ash and Stephanie asked themselves, “What are we going to do with these 50 little flags?”

Ash tells me about November’s school board meeting:

I didn’t go there about the flags. I went there about what I experienced. I went to the board meeting and specifically asked what could be done to make sure this doesn’t happen to anyone else. The student rep [a high school student] asked if supportive teachers could have little flags on their desks. Mr. Kyler, a board member, said he thought it would be a good idea.

Several other board members spoke up to agree, and so did the chief of schools. Good will had prevailed.

“I felt really good after that!” Ash tells me.

They felt reasonably safe with a supportive and protective parent, but they wanted to help kids who didn’t have that. Offering little rainbow flags to teachers seemed like the perfect solution. Let teachers put them on their desks to let kids know they’re safe, so students facing anti-LGBTQ hatred or bullying could come to them for support.

And it worked!

Ash’s principal put the flags in the counselor's office and let teachers know they could take one. According to Ash, about one third of teachers ended up displaying rainbow flags on their desks. So did other staff members. The response was so positive that all 50 flags were claimed.

LGBTQ students at Northwest Middle School felt seen, safe, and supported. But, tragically, that’s not the end of the story.

Enter Moms for Liberty, stage left

Ash was headed to high school soon, and they wondered about what the environment would be like. Would they once again be subject to open hatred in the halls? They talked about it with Stephanie, and she contacted Carroll County PFLAG (Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays). They started working together to distribute flags to all Carroll County public schools, including the high school Ash would be attending later in the year.

Then all hell broke loose. Stephanie explains:

“In April when we dropped off flags at other schools, Moms for Liberty and Concerned Parents of Carroll County made a huge fuss on Facebook.”

They didn’t just make a fuss. They engaged in over-the-top villification of LGBTQ people. The called Stephanie and her PFLAG friends the “Ash Strong Group.” Evidently they got confused by Ash’s last name of Tough, even though it’s really pronounced toe.

Stephanie says the concerned parents group and the local Moms for Liberty chapter were essentially the same people. They targeted 13-year-old Ash with a vengeance, calling them “that trans” and other dehumanizing words that stop just short of actionable hate speech.

They raised so much hell in Carroll County that in May, the school board voted to ban Pride flags from classrooms, as reported in The Washington Blade.

They sent Ash and other LGBTQ kids a toxic message: You are too controversial to protect and support. Conservative people hate you, and we’re going to endorse those people. Kids watched teachers forced to remove symbols of love. Kids internalized a message of hate.

The board agreed with Moms for Liberty’s nonsensical notion that little rainbow safe-space flags are “political.” Ash scoffs like only a teenager can. “I don’t even care about politics. Was this about politics? Nope!”

Nevertheless, teachers were told to get those flags off their desks. You can read this article in The Baltimore Banner for details on how the vote went.

Ash felt shocked but not defeated.

“I was disappointed. I felt lost, but I wasn’t really lost. I just didn’t know what my next steps were. I didn’t want teachers to have to choose between supporting students and getting fired.”

So they decided some board members need to be fired by voters instead.

Ash, Stephanie, and lots of other truly concerned citizens in Carroll County have been pushing for a slate of candidates to replace the board members who sent that toxic message.

This is NOT a partisan issue.

These candidates have broad support, from Democrats and Republicans alike, from people who know hate is not a family value. Showing love to kids who are tormented for being different is a value all of us can rally around, and a value Ash is fighting for.

Can you help out? If you live in Carroll County, Maryland, please show up at the polls and VOTE. Even if not, check out the petition below created by moderate Republicans. Help them spread the word:

Being conservative does not have to mean endorsing extremism or demonizing a 13-year-old with nothing but love in their heart.

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