The Human Cost of Anti-Gay Bullying

I wrote about the two suicides that plagued the the Crouch family in prior posts. But The Guardian has a lengthy piece that looks at the continuing damage done which merits acknowledgement. The beginning of the story is one that is all too familiar: a student bullied repeatedly, a school administration that claims no bullying occurred and a teenager takes his own life. What differs form other stories of this sad pattern is that ultimately the boy's father took his own life as well having never come to terms with his son's death. Not mentioned in the story is the part that religion - and in this case, the Catholic Church - plays in maintaining an atmosphere where bullying flourishes. The family detailed in the story is pictured above in happier days. Here are some story excerpts:

Before 18 May 2010, the Crouches would have considered themselves a happy family. Not exceptionally so, perhaps, but comfortable enough to enjoy each other's company. Arguments were rare. They laughed a lot.

On the mantelpiece in the front room of their modest home there is a photo of the four of them on holiday in the Lake District. It was taken on an overcast day and they are huddled together, in waterproofs and walking boots, smiling in readiness for the click of the camera's self-timer. Paola, a petite, fine-featured woman with dark hair and eyes, is in the middle, flanked by her two teenage children, Giulia and Dominic. At the back, arms outspread to encircle his brood, is the father, Roger, his expression one of obvious pride.

On 18 May 2010, Dominic committed suicide by jumping off the roof of a six-storey block of flats near his school in Cheltenham. He was 15. In the note he left his family, hastily scrawled in sloping lines of black ink, he wrote: "Dear Family, I'm so so sorry for what I'm about to do. I have been bullied a lot recently and had a lot of shit made up about me that ain't true."

At the inquest, nearly six months later, it emerged that Dominic had kissed a boy on a school trip during a game of spin the bottle. A group of Year 9 students had been on a residential trip to the Forest of Dean, organised by the school – St Edward's, an independent, Catholic school. The teenagers were staying in St Briavels Castle – a 13th-century building that now operates as a youth hostel – and one mild evening had gathered in a field to play the game.

At the time, it seemed little more than an example of adolescent high jinks. But some participants recorded the game on their mobile phones and were subsequently believed to have been circulating the images among other friends.

For Dominic's father, however, there was little doubt that his son had been the victim of homophobic bullying. In the months after his son's death, Roger threw himself into campaigning on his son's behalf. He toured the country, speaking to schools, meeting MPs and writing to local councillors about the need to adopt a "zero tolerance" approach.

It is a disconcertingly widespread problem: according to a 2007 report by Stonewall, the gay and lesbian lobbying organisation, 65% of young lesbian, gay and bisexual pupils have been the victims of bullying, as have three-quarters of young gay people attending faith schools. And even if gay pupils are not direct targets, they are "learning in an environment where homophobic language and comments are commonplace". Ninety-eight per cent of young gay people hear the phrases "that's so gay" or "you're so gay" in school – and anecdotal evidence suggests the terminology is used as freely in workplaces around the country.

A Stonewall report in 2009 found that eight in 10 secondary-school teachers and two in five primary-school teachers reported hearing homophobic insults such as "poof", "dyke", "queer" and "faggot". Ninety per cent of secondary-school teachers had witnessed children being subjected to homophobic bullying.

"We don't know whether Dominic was gay or not, but one of the sad truths of so many similar cases is that parents tend to go into complete denial, even when there is quite significant evidence as to why their child committed suicide. In these cases, those parents are going through all the emotions of discovering their child might have been gay, as well as facing the trauma of losing a child." And yet, despite Roger's outward show of strength, he was, says Summerskill, "heartbroken – and I use that kind of language cautiously."

On 28 November 2011, just a few weeks after receiving the Stonewall award, Roger Crouch hanged himself in the garage of the family home. His emotions had been battered, his energy had been exhausted, he could go on no longer. He was 55. The funeral director who came to remove the body was the same man who had organised Dominic's burial.

At approximately 2.50pm, Dominic ran and threw himself off the roof of the building. He landed face down about 26ft away on the driveway. Six minutes later, an ambulance was called and he was taken to Cheltenham hospital with multiple fractures of the skull, pelvis, arm, leg and facial bones and internal injuries to his lungs and liver. . . . Dominic died from his injuries shortly before eight o'clock that evening.

For a quiet, shy boy like Dominic, it would have been hard to admit if his contemporaries were calling him gay. According to Ben Summerskill, part of the problem in compiling wider data on this issue is that many victims do not want to speak openly about it or to confide in teachers. "That's one reason we suspect teenage suicide precipitated by homophobia is massively under-reported," he says. "Even if there is clear evidence a teenager has taken their own life because they were being bullied for being gay, coroners often don't make reference to it because they think – maybe misguidedly – it might upset the family."

Shocking as these statistics are, for Giulia, Dominic's sexuality – which, at the age of 15, he was only just beginning to understand himself – is irrelevant. "I don't see why if you call someone gay, that's funny – and if you use the n-word, you get into trouble. It should be treated in the same way as racism.

"Being gay for a young person is still considered one of the worst things to be. I see it in workshops all the time. The first question I ask is: 'How would you react if one of your friends was gay? Could you carry on being friends with them?' When I asked this yesterday, 20 out of 26 kids said they couldn't be friends with a gay person, either because they believe they have Aids or because they think their friend might hit on them. In my experience, that's the same across all socio-economic backgrounds, comprehensive or independent schools."

But perhaps one of the most deleterious consequences of homophobic bullying – and one that Dominic could not have foreseen – is the impact it has on entire families.

So much misery and so many needless deaths - just because people like Maggie Gallagher, Tony Perkins, Benedict XVI, and so many others can feel superior over others and in the case of Gallagher and Perkins rake in money peddling hate and discrimination. They are vile individuals in my view.