Omaha World-Herald, November 1, 1998
World Herald Square, Omaha, NE 68102
(Fax 402-345-4547 ) (E-MAIL: pulse@owh.com )
( http://www.omaha.com/OWH )
THE COURAGE OF HIS CONVICTIONS
Organizing a candlelight vigil for someone you've never met is, perhaps, not the work of your average 16-year-old. But friends and family say Brad Matthew Fuglei, the young man behind a Memorial Park gathering in honor of a slain Wyoming college student, possesses sensitivity and concern far above average. by Kristi Wright, World-Herald Staff Writer
After school on a recent weekday afternoon, Brad Matthew Fuglei sat at Stage Right Coffee & Tea Company sipping his Kiwi Italian soda. The downtown coffeehouse is a favorite hangout for this 16-year-old Omaha North sophomore who, with his checked American Eagle shirt, pressed khakis, Doc Martens and preppy haircut, looks like he stepped off the cover of GQ. Brad sometimes does his homework there or just relaxes with friends after his daily jog.
On this day, he was writing thank-you notes to those who helped organize a candlelight vigil in honor of Matthew Shepard, the Wyoming college student who was beaten to death in October. Investigators say that robbery was the main motive for the attack but that Shepard was targeted in part because he was gay.
"I had heard that Matthew was, like, only 5-feet-4. He was even smaller than I am. I thought, 'That could have been me,'" said Brad Matthew, who is 5-foot-6 and weighs about 120 pounds. "I knew if I didn't at least hold a candle for Matthew, then nobody else would."
More than 250 people gathered at Memorial Park to sing and listen to the words of two Omaha ministers. That Brad Matthew was motivated to act by Shepard's death was no surprise to his friends and family. They say he is a compassionate, giving person, with a maturity and wisdom unusual for his age. Dealing with the consequences of acknowledging his own homosexuality at age 14 has helped define who he is.
"He's very gutsy. It's unusual," said the Rev. Nancy Brink, who spoke at the vigil.
"Saying that Brad is a caring person is an understatement," said Naomi Zink, a sophomore at Northwest High School and Brad's friend since fourth grade. "He's always, always been there for me. . . . Every once in a while he'll bring me flowers out of the blue -- like roses."
Another friend, North sophomore Jenny Hille, agreed. "He makes you feel like he really cares about what is going on in your life. He's warm and talks to a lot of people. He has this great sense of appreciation for his friends."
Brad Matthew, the son of Nancy Fuglei of Omaha and Bruce Fuglei of Montana, is a member of North's Student Council and show choir. He volunteers for the Nebraska AIDS Project and recruited friends to help out with Teens Educated to Combat AIDS.
When he is not working at the men's department at Younkers, hanging out with friends or doing homework, Brad likes to play the piano and write music. His lyrics often reflect his thought about God, he said.
"He's a total free spirit. He doesn't care what others think," said Matthew Samp, an older friend who is like an older brother to Brad Matthew. "He's every parent's dream child -- strong, intelligent and dependable. He's completely against smoking, drinking and drug use. He doesn't need a baby sitter."
The murder of Shepard hit Brad Matthew hard. The idea for a vigil came to him around 2 o'clock one morning while he was talking online and doing homework. The next day he called Samp, who had been an events coordinator in Minneapolis, for help. Samp outlined a plan for Brad Matthew, who went right to work.
Between classes, he called gay and lesbian support groups seeking speakers and spreading the word. He selected Memorial Park because it was built, he said, in honor of those who have died in battle. It seemed appropriate.
Brad Matthew wrote press releases, selected the music and outlined the program. He asked Brink to speak because he knew members of her youth group.
"I think he showed a lot of initiative," said Bruce Fuglei. "I was amazed he did it. But then I'm often amazed by him. He's always been a unique kid. He thinks of others before himself."
Samp said Brad Matthew's natural charm and charisma make people enjoy being around him. He knows who he is and what he wants out of life.
Whatever maturity he has comes from having to deal with adult issues early in life, Brad said. His parents divorced when he was 3 years old, and his father moved to Montana. Brad Matthew grew up in north Omaha with his older brother, sister and mother.
"I remember crying when I was little because I wanted to play baseball with my dad like everyone else," Brad said. "My mom said, 'Come on,' and she took me to the back yard and threw the ball for me. I totally sucked at it, so I didn't keep doing it. But she still went out there with me."
Brad said he was an eighth-grader, attending a Lutheran school, when he realized he was gay. There was no one he felt he could talk to, so he opened the telephone directory and searched the Yellow Pages until he found the listing for Parents, Family and Friends of Lesbians and Gays.
With the support from PFLAG members, Brad said, he found the courage to tell his mother.
"I was shocked at first," she said. "Then I was like, 'Wow, you really must trust me.' And I didn't tell anyone unless he wanted me to. I guess knowing that made us closer."
Naomi Zink said life wasn't always easy for Brad in middle school. He wasn't interested in sports, and the other boys teased him.
"The guys were so stupid," she said. "In eighth grade they made fun of him because if you're not into sports you're considered different. But Brad always knew how to come right back at them in a way that would shut them up real quick. He was just smarter than they were."
At North High, Brad is one of the most popular and well-known students, but he still has experienced bigotry. Two guys in gym class harassed him by calling him names and getting into his locker.
"They dumped a whole bottle of cologne over in front of everyone, and I had to play it off like it was no big deal," Brad said.
His posters were vandalized -- ripped down and "We hate you" scrawled on them -- when Brad Matthew ran for Student Council. But he replaced the posters and won the election. And the teasing in gym class was stopped after he told school administrators.
"I don't hate people who hate gays. That's their problem," Brad said.
Brad confided to his mother and sister that he was gay the summer before his freshman year. His mother cried.
"But then she said, 'I don't care who you date, you just can't date anyone until you turn 16.' . . . I felt like that meant she accepted it and me."
Nancy Fuglei said she is proud of her son and loves him, although she hasn't stopped worrying.
Brad Matthew was concerned that his sister, Sarah, would be embarrassed by him. "She told me, 'Brad, you're my brother, and I'll stand up for you. You're my blood, and I love you."
Brad Matthew has yet to say the words, "I'm gay" to his father, who still lives in Montana.
"I thought for a long time he would hate me," Brad said, so he avoided talking with or seeing his father for nine months.
But recently the two saw each other when his father was in Lincoln for a football game. "He gave me a big hug and whispered in my ear, 'Did you think I didn't love you? I love you no matter what.'"
Bruce Fuglei said his son, at first, seemed "very uptight about his gayness."
"He was worried that I would reject him. It hurt my feelings tremendously. But I told him it doesn't matter -- I will always love him. I feel sorry for him -- in many ways he's going to have a rough life in front of him."
Whatever secrecy remained about Brad Matthew's homosexuality was gone after stories about the vigil appeared in The World-Herald. His maternal grandmother, Betty Pearson, said she was disappointed he hadn't invited her.
"She said she wished she could have been there to hold my hand."
Overall, Brad Matthew is almost giddy about his life.
"I couldn't list 10 things to worry about," he said after finishing his soda at Stage Right and putting away his thank-you notes. He hurried off to pick up a friend to see the movie "The Bride of Chucky."
But Samp worries.
"There are some times when we'll be somewhere and he'll be a little too loud and I'm afraid for him," Samp said. "I'm scared he'll get beat up someday. No matter how cool you are, no matter how popular or well-liked, inevitably there will be somebody who doesn't like you. Somebody could hurt him."
Brad Matthew said it is important for gay teens to have the support and love of their friends and fmaily members.
At National Coming Out Day last year, Brad spoke at an event at the University of Nebraska at Omaha. He wrote an eight-page script, but after two pages he ditched his written remarks and spoke from the heart.
"I ended up just talking about my coming to terms with myself and saying, 'I'm cool with that.' And then being able to share that with my mother, my friend and my teacher.
"I said, 'Gay is not about fashion, being rich, drag queens or queer or the color pink. What gay is about is love, self-happiness, unity, contentment, emotions.' Gay is a lot of things. I'm gay, but gay is not what I'm about. Gay is just a part of me."