“I wanted to end it all”: Beacon associate shares powerful personal story during Pride Month

Jimmy C. Smith-Moreland, Memorial Hospital administrative assistant for Women and Children’s Services and Inpatient Rehab Services, shares his powerful personal story during Pride Month and what it means to work at Beacon.

Memorial Hospital associate Jimmy Smith-Moreland, right, pictured with his husband, Timothy Smith-Moreland.

Growing up, I lived in a small, rural farming community during a time when the direct and indirect message to me was that I was wrong, I was to be feared and I was not going to amount to anything special. I was told my life was destined to be unfulfilling and meaningless and that I would bring shame and disappointment to my family because I didn’t fit a norm that was placed on me when I was born.

I had nothing to counter that message.

I was a boy who made mud pies after it rained and kicked up dust when riding my bike. But I was also a boy who, when my sisters and I played school in our finished basement, would always wear the black patent leather high-heeled boots that came up to my knees.

As time carried on, I was a teenager who ran track but really wanted to be a cheerleader, too. I loved New Kids On The Block, namely Jordan Knight because we share the same birthday, and my love affair for Madonna was in full bloom. It actually continues to this day. I was a teenager who secretly imagined being Sam in the movie Sixteen Candles or Cindy in Can’t Buy Me Love who in the end got to kiss the cute boy and ride off into the sunset. I visualized myself as these characters because I just didn’t have the mental imagery needed to imagine that two boys would find love, kiss and happily ride off into the sunset in a white convertible Volkswagen. Up to that point, I had encountered years of relentless name-calling, threats of violence against me and judgments about how I walked, talked and carried my books.

Everyone let me know in one way or another that everything I did or didn’t do, liked or did not like, was a problem about me that I needed to fix. I did not see positive representation and LGBTQ+ visibility in the media or the community in which I lived or from many people I knew. This is the case for most people in the LGBTQ+ community in the ’80s, ’90s and still today. Even though it is so much better, LGBTQ+ people have been discriminated against, excluded, rejected, isolated and even worse for being who we are.

Jimmy Smith-Moreland

So, when I drive into work and I travel around the roundabout near Memorial Hospital, and I see the Skyway’s brightly lit colors of the rainbow flag that have been the symbol of the LGBTQ+ community since 1978, I get a bit emotional. Emotional because I think back to my 15-year-old self who decided in the summer of 1990 that I wanted to end it all. I started to execute my plan when, luckily, my dad walked into my bedroom. In reality, I did not want to end it all, I just did not see any other way out.

There was a time as a teenager that I did not see the great possibilities that would lie ahead for me. Life events such as graduating high school, meeting and marrying my husband, becoming a dad to four adopted boys, earning a degree from Indiana University, buying a home and the list goes on and on.

I get emotional when I think about how the lights on the Skyway, a seemingly small action by Beacon, will save lives. Visibility and representation matter. I am beyond proud to work for an organization that is putting its values into action. Showing this outward support to their associates and the community at large is a huge thing. Really huge. From the bottom of my heart, thank you so very much and let’s continue to be a Beacon of light to and for my LGBTQ+ community and our allies.

I will do my part and continue to let my light shine for all to see.

— Jimmy Smith-Moreland

***If you or someone you know has attempted suicide and needs immediate medical attention, or a suicide attempt is likely, please call 911 immediately or go to the nearest emergency room. Memorial Epworth Center’s emergency services are open and available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, including holidays, at 420 N. Niles Ave., South Bend. If you are experiencing a crisis, please call the Memorial Epworth admissions office at 574.647.8400.

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1.800.273.TALK (8255)