The Washington Post - 20.08.2019

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E6 EZ EE THE WASHINGTON POST.TUESDAY, AUGUST 20 , 2019


in what was, at the time, an anti-
gay culture, they had nowhere to
turn for support.
“The idea that I singly, or with
them, would ever think to get
some sort of therapy or program
for coping was absolutely beyond
their or my ken,” he says. “I was a
deviant, and an embarrassment,
who was best kept undercover or
well-closeted.”
Fast forward to 2012, when
Wendy Williams Montgomery,
then a devout member of the
Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-
day Saints, discovered that her
13-old son was gay. “Learning this
felt both confusing and scary for
me,” she says. “It was never a
question of: Do I still love him?
Can I still accept him? My ques-
tion was: How do I do this as
Mormon? Am I going to have to
choose between the God I love,
and the child I love?”
For two weeks, she couldn’t eat
or sleep. She sought understand-
ing from the church, but found
only hostility.
“The message I was receiving
by my church leaders, family
members, friends and printed text
was that my son was broken in an
irreparable way, and would have
to suffer through a truly horrific
life until he died, at which time he
would be ‘fixed’ and straight like
the rest of us in heaven,” says
Montgomery, who quit the Mor-
mon Church five years later.
She turned to the scientific and
medical community and found
help from the Family Acceptance
Project, an intervention, research
and education organization for
LGBT youth and their families.
After reading one of their pam-
phlets targeted to Mormon fami-
lies — titled Supportive Families,
Healthy Children — “I just wept,”
she says. “It honestly felt like the
first ray of sunshine in months
when everything had felt so dark
and gray and cloudy.”
Until recently, service provid-
ers, such as therapists and sup-
port groups for lesbian, gay, bisex-


GAY SUPPORT FROM E1 ual and transgender people, ex-
cluded families from their pro-
grams, regarding them as the
enemy.
Today, however, there is a grow-
ing recognition that the support
of families — especially parents —
is critical to the health and well-
being of LGBT youth.
“In the past, families just
weren’t in the conversation,” says
Caitlin Ryan, a clinical social
worker who directs the Family
Acceptance Project. “The percep-
tion was that families rejected
you, which meant you didn’t come
out, and if you did, you prepared
for the worst.”
But “I’ve found that most fami-
lies want their child to be safe,
healthy and have a good life,” she
says. “They engage in rejecting
behaviors because they often are
misinformed. We need to help
them understand that — even
though they may want to help
their children — what they are
doing contributes to serious
harm. Young people who experi-
ence rejection feel like their par-
ents don’t love them. In religious
families, they feel that God
doesn’t love them either. This can
be really painful and traumatic.”
Research suggests that having
negative family members raises a
gay child’s risk of depression and
self-destructive behaviors, includ-
ing unprotected sex, substance
abuse and suicide. A 2009 study
conducted by the Family Accep-
tance Project found that gay, bi-
sexual and lesbian youth whose
families are hostile are at least
eight times more likely to attempt
suicide than their gay peers from
accepting families.
Moreover, the longer it takes
parents to adjust, the worse it is
for their kids. A recent study sur-
veyed 1,200 parents of LGBT
youth ages 10 to 25 and found that
it takes many parents two or more
years to come around — a long
time in the life of a child.
“We found it was just as hard
for parents who had known for
two years as for parents who had
recently found out,” says David


Huebner, the study author and an
associate professor of prevention
and community health at George
Washington University Milken In-
stitute School of Public Health. “It
gets better with time. But two
years is an eternity for a child.”
Huebner created a website
called Lead With Love, with guid-

ance for parents. “I don’t think
parents struggle because they are
bad people,” he says. “I think it’s
because they care about their chil-
dren. They are exposed to the
same anti-gay messages that their
kids are exposed to, that all of us

are exposed to. They struggle be-
cause they are worried. Some par-
ents learn it’s a sin. That it’s an
illness. That their child will die of
HIV, or alone. Parents care about
their kids, but sometimes they
express it in ways that are not
helpful.”
Kathy Godwin, president of the

national board of PFLAG, a sup-
port and advocacy organization
for gay people, their families and
allies, agrees. “The most impor-
tant thing you can do is give your
kid a hug and tell them you love
them,” she says. “For parents, it

can be a grief process. They feel
like they’ve lost something. We
talk with them. We tell them
things are changing, that this
doesn’t mean you can’t go to a
wedding or have grandchildren.”
Still, things aren’t improving
everywhere, which underscores
the need to broaden access to
resources. “There still are kids
living in less progressive states
with a rejecting family and a hos-
tile school environment,” Hueb-
ner says. “It doesn’t matter what is
happening nationally, because
that kid’s whole world is right
there.”
He advises young people who
encounter negativity to recognize
their parents are struggling, as
they did. “Your parents are human,
and it’s going to take them some
time,” he says. “You don’t have to
like the things they are doing, but
they are coming from a place of
concern because they care.”
Experts suggest youngsters
seek support elsewhere, from
adult teachers, for example, or
support groups such as the Dis-
trict’s SMYAL (Sexual Minority
Youth Assistance League), and
find a safe place to stay if they feel
threatened at home.
“Don’t try to deal with this
alone,” Huebner says. “Some-
times, other family members or
friends can be more supportive
[even if they] share the same be-
liefs as your parents. They can be
supportive because they aren’t as
invested as your parents.”
Young people also can “create
their own families with other
LGBTQ kids and people who ac-
cept them,” says Tia Dole, chief
clinical operations officer for the
Trevor Project, which provides in-
tervention for gay youth, includ-
ing a 24/7 hotline (866-488-7386)
with trained counselors for kids in
crisis. These “alternative” families
“can be pretty wonderful,” she
says.
Parents need to know that cer-
tain behaviors exacerbate feelings
of rejection, for example, forbid-
ding their children to go out or
have gay friends visit, or belittling
clothing choices. “Ridicule is a
rejecting behavior,” Ryan says, cit-
ing “the 16-year-old boy who goes
out wearing a pink shirt and his
father says: ‘you’re not going out
like that, you look like a [ho-
mophobic slur].’ ”
For minority families and those
with transgender children, the
stresses can be even greater.
Evette Lewis, an employee ben-

efits adviser from Bowie, worried
her son would contract HIV, or be
hurt. “It’s hard enough for African
American boys to navigate our
society safely,” she says. “Having a
gay, African American son expo-
nentially increases the possibility
of his being victimized.”
It also was tough for Catherine
Hyde, from Woodstock, Md.,
whose son told her as a child
“something went wrong in my
belly, and he was supposed to be a
girl.” Initially, she was horrified at
the idea he was transgender, and
lashed out, telling him: “You can
be as gay as you want, but if you go
‘trans’ on me, it’s going to be out of
my house and on your own time
and money.” He became de-
pressed and suicidal.
But she grew to accept her child
as a girl with help from PFLAG
and other sources.
“Today, life feels good and
hopeful,” Hyde says.
Huebner, 42, who is gay, came
out to his mother 20 years ago
during a walk in the woods. He
said there was something she
needed to know. “She was relieved
it wasn’t cancer,” he says. “And
then she said, ‘David, I love you
and nothing will ever change
that.’ ”
It’s been eight years since
Montgomery’s son came out to his
parents. She now is an advocate
for LGBT kids. “I’m a better per-
son for having a gay son... [who
is] probably the biggest teacher I
have ever had in my life,” she says.
Jordan, now 21, is starting his
last year at Arizona State Univer-
sity, majoring in political science,
and hopes to attend law school.
He too has left the church. “He
lives about a half-hour away, but
we still see him several times a
week,” his mother says. “Most im-
portantly, he is happy.”
David Pitches, a runner, has
gained strength from, among oth-
er things, joining Front Runners
New York, a gay running club. “I’m
around many, much younger
LGBT runners who have grown
up in this new age, and I envy the
open, loving and accepting rela-
tionships they have with their
families,” he says.
Moreover, his siblings have al-
ways been supportive. When he
and his partner of more than 30
years decided to get married in
2013, his younger brother, a Pres-
byterian minister, “happily and
lovingly performed our wedding
ceremony.”
[email protected]

sports-playing kids would enter
adulthood with healthier brains
and better futures.
Forty million children partici-
pate in organized sport each year.
Protecting them from head injury
is a big task. Youth sports organi-
zations generally do an admirable
job. In the past decade, the U.S.
Soccer Federation has banned
heading for players 10 years old
and younger and limited heading
for players 11 to 13. USA Hockey
no longer allows body checking
until players are 13. Even tackle
football is safer — marginally. Pop
Warner, the largest national
youth football league, has elimi-
nated kickoffs for the youngest
players — 5- to 10-years-old — and
limited full-contact practice time.
Of late, we’re learning more
about brain injury among youth
players in rougher “collision”
sports such as football. These
young athletes are at greater risk
than we knew and than many
parents and coaches would find
acceptable.
Recent studies of youth foot-
ball are particularly alarming.
Since 2015, Boston University’s
Chronic Traumatic Encephalopa-
thy Center (which Robert C. Can-
tu co-founded) has published
three studies all leading to a dis-
quieting conclusion: Adults who
played tackle football as children
were more likely to deal with
emotional and cognitive chal-
lenges in later life.
In one BU study, researchers
dug into the sports-playing pasts
of 214 former football players.
Their finding: Starting as a player
in a tackle football league before
age 12 corresponded with in-
creased odds for clinical depres-
sion, apathy and executive func-
tion problems — for example, di-
minished insight, judgment and
multitasking.
In another study, BU research-
ers zeroed in on the effects of head
slams by comparing groups of
adults who started in football be-
fore and after age 12 and who
went on to develop CTE, a degen-
erative brain disease linked to
repetitive hits in sports. The re-


KIDS SPORTS FROM E1 sults were chilling for anyone
who’s watched 10-year-olds knock
heads at the line of scrimmage.
Those in the study who played
before age 12 experienced cogni-
tive deficits — also, behavioral
and mood problems — a full 13
years earlier than those starting
at 12 or older.
Also troubling: For every year
younger that someone was ex-
posed to tackle football, the start
of cognitive problems occurred
2.4 years earlier and behavioral
and mood problems started 2.5
years earlier, according to the
study.
These are hard things to hear
about youth sports and particu-
larly about tackle football, which
in many parts of this country
inspires devotion bordering on
obsession. Football die-hards will
point out that the sport is irre-
placeable at the youth level, that it
is a proving ground for persever-
ance and toughness and that as a
character-builder for children, it
stands alone. Some doubt reports
about the health risks. Some say
more research is needed. They’re
right about the last part. There
are many more questions needing
answers. Among them:
What would researchers learn
if they followed thousands of
youth football players from their
first football games to adulthood,
a true longitudinal study? Are
other collision sports risky? Do
the brains of girls and boys react
differently? Do family history and
heredity play a role? What are
other risk factors? How many sea-
sons of tackle football can a child
play safely? (A 2018 study at Wake
Forest School of Medicine found
changes in the brains of boys 8 to
13 after just one season). It may be
20 years before we have answers.
The questions that loom over
all: What is the future of tackle
football and of all collision sports?
Do we accept head injury as inevi-
table and live with the chance that
youth players when they grow up
will face higher risk of emotional
and cognitive challenges?
Action on concussions in youth
football has been impressive in
recent years.
All 50 states now have concus-


sion laws. They’ve led to greatly
improved efforts in recognizing
and treating concussions, a shak-
ing of the head that triggers chem-
ical changes in the brain and
causes symptoms such as head-
aches and dizziness. Compared to
the bad old days (a decade ago),
it’s rare that youth athletes go
back into a game with concussion
symptoms.

In the BU studies, brain injury
was linked not to concussions but
to long-term exposure to repeated
subconcussive hits. These are the
head blows that happen in foot-
ball on almost every play, and are
also part of sports such as rugby,
ice hockey, even soccer. Long-
term exposure to subconcussive
hits has been associated with
CTE, which has stricken more
than 100 former National Foot-

ball League players. NFL stars
Junior Seau, Mike Webster and
Frank Gifford all were diagnosed
with CTE when they died.
CTE also has been found in
ex-National Hockey League play-
ers, college athletes and even sev-
eral high school athletes.
The nature of subconcussive
hits is that they’re a problem years
after they occur.

When they’re happening, no
one notices. It’s the accumulation
of micro hits that trigger damag-
ing changes years later.
How should kids be protected?
In “Concussions and Our Kids,” a
book we co-wrote in 2012, we
argue for children to defer playing
tackle football until age 14. (Until
then, they should play flag foot-
ball, where kids grab flags instead
of each other). Some parents and

coaches pushed back at the pro-
posal, which at the time was radi-
cal. Seven years later, it’s a main-
stream idea.
Even before the recent studies,
some adults were turning away
from football for kids, alarmed by
medical research and reports of
CTE in pro football. Participation
has declined. In 2018, 1.2 million
children ages 6 to 12 participated
in organized tackle football com-
pared to 1.7 million in 2008, ac-
cording to the Sports & Fitness
Industry Association (SFIA).
There’s been a push for trans-
parency. The National Operating
Committee on Standards for Ath-
letic Equipment, an independent
organization, requires that manu-
facturers place a warning label on
all football helmets that states, in
part, “NO HELMET CAN PRE-
VENT ALL HEAD OR ANY NECK
INJURIES A PLAYER MIGHT
RECEIVE WHILE PARTICIPAT-
ING IN FOOTBALL.” (The warn-
ing omits the mention of brain
diseases).
At the same time, flag football
is growing. Participation in flag
leagues for children ages 6 to 12

jumped 9.2 percent in 2018, ac-
cording to the SFIA. And NFL star
quarterback Drew Brees has add-
ed the cool factor as founder of a
national noncontact league, Foot-
ball “N” America, for kids up to
the 10th grade.
By no means is youth tackle
football on its last legs. According
to the National Federation of
State High School Associations,
high school squads drew 1 million
players in 2017-2018. That’s more
players than golf, baseball and
boys’ and girls’ lacrosse com-
bined.
The future of tackle football in
the next decade is unknown. Par-
ticipation numbers may stabilize
or even bounce back a bit. They
may continue to erode at a pace
that spares some children but
leaves millions of others vulner-
able to the long-term, repeated
hits described in the BU studies.
Or possibly the surgeon gener-
al enters the picture.
In 1964, then-Surgeon General
Luther Terry famously issued a
warning to the American public
that exposed the link between
cigarette-smoking and lung can-
cer. Millions of smokers heard
and quit the habit. At the time,
more than 40 percent of adults in
the United States were smokers.
Five decades later, that figure is
less 20 percent. Many factors con-
tributed, but none was more im-
portant than the surgeon gener-
al’s deft use of the bully pulpit.
Reasons that Jerome Adams,
the current surgeon general,
might stay away from a national
debate on youth football are too
many to mention. The firestorm
that an anti-football pronounce-
ment would kick up would be
intense, especially in “Friday
Night Lights” states where foot-
ball is king. Protests also probably
would be loud from those with a
financial stake in preserving
youth football as is, including
youth football leagues and the
NFL.
For the foreseeable future, kids
will continue suiting up on week-
ends. This debate has yet to cross
the 50-yard line.
[email protected]

Robert C. Cantu is clinical professor of
neurology and neurosurgery and co-
founder of the CTE Center at the
Boston University School of Medicine.
Mark Hyman is a professor of sports
management at George Washington
University.

kids health


ILLUSTRATIONS BY ERY BURNS
FOR THE WASHINGTON POST

Gay support groups seeing


families as allies, not foes


“I’ve found that most families want their child


to be safe, healthy and have a good life.”
Caitlin Ryan of the Family Acceptance Project

Tackle football and the danger of brain diseases


What would researchers learn if they followed


thousands of youth football players from their


first football games to adulthood?

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