“Case File 1406. 18 year old female, Emma Cache. Referred to services by parents noticing overanxious tendencies. Patient is exceptionally bright, highly organized, and successfully integrated into social system. Initial diagnosis: generalized anxiety disorder.”
Wonderful girl. Where did she want to go to school? Ah yes, NYU. She’ll get there too. Pulling in perfect grades, and remarkably beautiful to boot. She’s just got worries. But then again, we all have worries. I have worries. I’m worried about her. She’s been pulling back. She’s trying to tell me something. But what it could be I have no…
“Excuse me, Dr. Mensonge? Miss, Cache is here to see you now.”
“Perfect, send her right in.”
There she is. She looks wonderful today, as usual. Is she hiding something behind her back? No, not hiding just holding. What is she carrying? “Emma, so lovely to see you again. Please, take a seat.”
“Hello, Dr. Mensonge. I brought my journal today, I hope you don’t mind. There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you…”
Ah, that’s the book she’s carrying. “Absolutely, dear. Why don’t you begin today.”
“Alright, well you know how you suggested I keep a journal to write down my thoughts and fears and worries?”
Looks like a full book. “Yes, dear. Have you been doing that?”
“Well yes. I’ve been keeping a journal for the past couple of months, and you’re right, it’s helped me realize that some of my fears are rather ridiculous. But some of the things I’ve been keeping track of have me even more worried than when I began.”
That’s the world. Some of us should be worried. Some of us are forced to hide. “Well I’m glad it’s helping on some level, Emma. But what has you nervous?” What did she just get out of her book? It’s a newspaper article. Oh god, it’s shaking in my hands. Is this what she’s trying to tell me? Oh please, please, let this not be her secret, the cause of all the problems in her life. Let this end only one life in the room.
“Have you heard of the Stonewall Riots, Dr. Mensonge?”
Heard of them? I have friends injured in the raid. I’ve felt the pain from their cuts, carry the bruises of their blows. How the law can justify the embarrassment and emotional scarring of nearly 200 innocent victims is beyond my comprehension. As a medical professional and simple human being. “No, I’m afraid not. Why don’t you tell me about it?”
“A couple of weeks ago, in late June, the police in Greenwich Villiage, New York raided a bar in the Stonewall Inn.”
Part of the New York State Liquor Authority movement was their excuse I think. Those pigs, there is no excuse for this.
“It was a gay club. And when the police went in to arrest those inside, the people fought back. They actually fought back! They mobbed the police who were harassing them. They threw things at them. They stood up for themselves.”
They exercised their rights as human beings. “This is all very interesting, Emma. But what does this have to do with you? Why are you worried?” Oh god, she’s so naïve.
“Well you know I’m applying to NYU for this next fall.”
Please just want a nicer neighborhood. Don’t let it be this.
“And you know that this happened within the gay community, and it keeps happening daily.”
Oh god. Why is my heart racing? I’m sweating. Don’t be trapped. Make her see.
“Dr. Mensonge, there’s something I need to tell you.”
Please, please. No. I can’t help you. I can’t help anyone. “Go ahead, dear. You can tell me anything.” She’s so beautiful. Such a bright future. Don’t throw it away.
“Dr. Mensonge. I’m gay.”
Her life has just ended.
