Dear Owasso Public Schools,
Many years ago, I was an openly bisexual student in your school system. I came out to my friends, and I lived as proudly as I could. That did little good when you consider the amount of bullying I faced after that.
When I went to administration, I was told that “boys will be boys” because the worst bullying came from three boys in my Honors U.S. History class. I was told, “they picked on you ’cause they like you.” No, they didn’t. They hated who I was because I liked girls. They hated me for something I have very, very little control over. The only people who accepted me were my closest friends at the time—mainly other LGBTQ+ students.
But the truth is, OPS failed me long before that. Students bullied me for having partial heterochromia in my eyes and for having a unique last name. You may say that “kids are cruel,” but the real cruelty is that the adults—your administrators, your teachers, and your staff—failed the children of Owasso over and over again.
Living in a town of 30,000 people (when I lived there) means that Owasso is a small town. Roughly 40% of the population is under 18, so many of the people in Owasso are in school—your schools.
And yet, Nex Benedict, just 16 years old, is no longer with us. It’s been a year, and it still breaks my heart to know that a CHILD lost their life because of bullying. Nex was attacked in a bathroom, and I don’t care that Tulsa County District Attorney Steve Kunzweiler called it “mutual combat.” Based on what I read, only one person lost consciousness during that altercation. Only one person didn’t get to leave that bathroom alive.
On top of that, OPS allowed a hateful media influencer—a person who doesn’t even live in the state—to chase away a teacher who simply told students, “If your parents don’t accept you for who you are, f*** them. I’m your parents now.” This phrase, used within the LGBTQ+ community as a show of solidarity, should not have been a point of contention. But it was. And in a world where that kind of hate can cause someone to lose their job, I feel sick to my stomach.
Tyler Wrynn, the teacher you drove out, would have been a welcome addition to my own teachers when I attended your schools. At least someone would have looked out for me when a male student sexually harassed me for weeks (which OPS did nothing about), and when I finally stood up for myself and hit him, I was the one who got in trouble.
Wrynn’s commitment to “uprooting and deconstructing harmful stereotypes” is so crucial. Helping children and teenagers who feel like they don’t belong feel safe is vital. But it’s clear that this is not the environment you fostered for me, and it is still not the environment you’ve fostered for countless students since I left.
For almost two decades, nothing has changed. Your school district is still a place filled with hate, bigotry, and harmful rhetoric—so much so that it’s made national news.
At the age of 13, bullying someone to the point where they end up feeling like ending their life is the only way out—because no one listened to them—is a monumental failing of the school’s administration.
And now, two decades later, it appears nothing has been done. This is a moral failing on your part. You should be ashamed of yourselves. Instead of looking at adding a fine arts center or a soccer pitch, maybe you should be looking into inclusivity training. Maybe you should start learning how to make the school a safer place for every single student.
Because at the rate Oklahoma is going in terms of hatred and bigotry, I’m scared for any student attending any school in the state.
Sincerely,
A concerned former student
