LOCAL NEWS

Young, Gay, Homeless, Dead
Ten years after his murder, Ali Forney continues to inspire

By By Dustin Fitzharris
Friday, November 30, 2007

Alone he looked sad and forlorn. But when he saw someone he cared about, he would spring to life and shine. Elbows and wrists would bounce like a Pogo Stick. He was tall—at least 6 feet tall—and dark skinned. Sometimes he wore little dread twists in his hair. Other time he sported a blond ponytail wig and went by the name Luscious. His deep voice stunned many who would first see him strut as if he was on a runway. That was Ali Forney.

Then a single gunshot went through his head on Dec. 5, 1997. He was dead at 22.
Ten years later it’s a moment that still haunts Carl Siciliano. Siciliano first met Forney in 1994 at SafeSpace, an organization that began in New York City in 1919 to help rescue vulnerable children from abusive situations.

Five years ago, Siciliano began the Ali Forney Center, the nation’s largest and most comprehensive organization dedicated to homeless LGBT youth. AFC will celebrate its fifth anniversary and honor the memory of its namesake 6-8 p.m., Thursday, Dec. 6, at the Judson Memorial Church in Washington Square Park. On hand to commemorate Ali Forney will be the Rev. Irene Monroe, LGBT choir Lavendar Light, the Dark Dancers and Out.

Remembering Ali Forney

“When you’re working with homeless you may have this romantic notion that everyone is going to be sweet and grateful for the work you’re doing,” Siciliano said. “It’s not like that—all warm and fuzzy. These kids have a lot of armor around them from being so hurt and ravaged.”

But it was different with Ali, the teen who was born in Charlotte, N.C., and moved to a Brooklyn housing project with his single mother.

“Ali was warm-hearted and naked,” Siciliano said. “He was able to show that he cared about the people who cared about him.”

Siciliano credits that to Forney’s longing for his family so much, he was able and wanted to create family wherever he was.

At 13, Forney’s mother threw him out of the house. Siciliano believes she just didn’t know how to cope with the violence that came with her son’s effeminacy, a trait in males that generally contradicts traditional masculine gender roles.

On the streets, Ali turned to prostitution; just as many in the LGBT community have done when they find they have no place to go.

According to the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force, in collaboration with the National Coalition for the Homeless, 42 percent of the estimated 1.6 million homeless American youth are LGBT.

The Ali Forney Center

Siciliano has helped change that with the Ali Forney Center.

“When I began AFC my initial drive was this sense of urgency that there was no shelter for gay kids in New York,” Siciliano said.

There were shelters, but as Siciliano said, “kids were safer on the streets.”
He recalls first-hand stories from individuals who sought a warm bed. There was boy sleeping as 14 other boys gathered around and urinated on him because he was gay.  A transgender girl was told “faggots don’t sleep on beds” and was kicked to the floor. While sleeping, she was hit over the head with a sock filled with batteries.

With the success AFC has had in providing a safe, non-threatening environment, Siciliano has expanded his vision.

“Now our mission—especially with kids coming out at younger ages and families not accepting them—is to create structures that provide the level of safety and nurturing these kids should be getting in their families.”

AFC serves LGBT homeless youths from ages 16-24. There are 43 beds between their emergency and transitional housing programs, located in Manhattan and Brooklyn and a Day Center, open from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m.

At the Day Center there is an on-site medical clinic where individuals can see a doctor for medical care and/or HIV testing. There is also a mental health clinic with psychiatrists and clinical social workers.

Ali Forney Programs

Job readiness programs and sex-ed classes are also what differentiate AFC from other shelters.

“At the center, you have to have a reason to be here,” said Bill Torres, director of community resources since the center began. “You have to be involved in something.”

The emergency housing serves as a temporary situation where LGBT youth are able to reside for up to six months while AFC assists them in moving into more permanent housing.

That more permanent housing may be the transitional program. For up to two years, residents are able to live while maintaining employment of some kind; whether it be internships, full or part-time jobs or even volunteering. The goal is to learn how to live independently so that eventually residents can move into their own apartments.

Still, those working at AFC are not content with their own progress.

“There’s a need out there to keep going,” Will Fisher, director of individual giving and events said. “I am inspired hearing stories from other young people on the streets who deserve an equal opportunity as well.”

Torres, who put his acting career on the backburner for what he now says is “his calling,” agrees.

“These kids are the collateral damage of the culture today,” Torres said in reference to society’s homophobia and ignorance. “It makes you want to roll up your sleeves and work harder.”

Success Stories

The unyielding dedication has led to numerous success stories from former LGBT youths who found support from AFC. Andre, who is studying with the Paul Taylor Dance Company at NYU, has been invited to join an Argentinean dance company upon graduation. There’s Iris, who is currently working three jobs and is putting together a portfolio of dresses she’s designed. And then there is Afran.

Afran Baksh, 21, came to AFC in March of this year. He came to the United States 16 years ago from Guyana in the West Indies. Born into a strict Muslim background, it took courage to come out.

“I came out to my family because they needed to know I was a homosexual,” Baksh said. “They needed to know who I am. I am not a bad kid.”

Indeed, he is not. He dropped out of school to take care of his dying mother. Even though they did not have a loving relationship after he came out, she still remains in his heart.
“She was my inspiration,” Baksh said. “She was so sick, but cared and had such a positive outlook on life.”

Following her death, Baksh lived with his sister and uncle. His uncle, despising his homosexuality, threatened him to the point where it became unsafe for him to stay. He fled to the streets.

Today he is healthy, happy, in love— Baksh has been with his partner for two and half years—and is proud of what he has accomplished.

“I have matured and grown up a lot,” Baksh said. “I’ve had a lot of struggles, but the Ali Forney Center lets you be yourself and makes sure you’re safe. We’re not just paperwork to the staff. They put themselves out there for us.”

In his free time, when he’s not working as an intern at the center, he writes. He also reads about Buddhism.

“It’s peaceful teaching,” he said. “Everyone should read it. They don’t have to follow it, but they should read and learn.”

Baksh is learning and is looking at life after AFC.

“I would like to be a humanitarian and work with kids in Africa and other third-world countries.”

With the holidays right around the corner, Joey Lopez, coordinator of policy and training, is trying his best to stay optimistic. However, he constantly struggles with the truth.

“The hardest part of this job is leaving and going home to a warm bed every night while these kids don’t know where they are going.”

Baksh has some advice. “Everyone can come here. Answers are just a knock on the door away.”

The Ali Forney Center Memorial Celebration, 6–8 p.m., Thursday, Dec. 6, at Judson Memorial Church, 55 Washington Square South, free, but accepting donations and gift certificates for youths This holiday season, AFC is asking for help with: Non-perishable foods, toiletries, cleaning supplies, twin-bed sheets, towels and undergarments. Visit aliforneycenter.org to learn how you can contribute or call Bill Torres at 212-991-0853.

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