Being a progressive, liberal-minded political activist mom who learned everything about what NOT to do from my own mom, I set out to have this warm, open, communicative relationship with my children. I envisioned us sharing our inner most thoughts, feelings, dreams and aspirations and them including me in their plans of becoming sexually active, seeking my advice over others and maybe being the open mom that their friends could come to as well.

I'm reposting a review that first appeared with slight modification in Bay Windows (July 12, 2007). I've been away on the R Family cruise (aka "Rosie's Cruise") for a week and not up to any new content right now. More on the cruise later—the short version is that it was a great experience not only for LGBT families, but also other relatives and friends.

Carrie Jones' debut young adult novel, Tips on Having a Gay (ex) Boyfriend, may at first seem an odd choice for review in an LGBT newspaper. It is not a story about having LGBT parents, nor about being LGBT per se. The protagonist is straight high school student Belle, whose long-term boyfriend Dylan has just come out. Tips explores the broader ramifications of homophobia and closetedness without resorting to stereotypes, however, and if it finds its way into the hands of more teens, LGBT and not, that will be a good thing for all families.

Where I went to high school, not a lot of kids went on to college. Getting accepted into a Cal State was great; if you got into a UC, you were golden! Admission into a private university was cause for celebration. I remember thinking that expectations should be higher.

Today, the college admissions process has become insanely competitive, especially at elite high schools. Now we read stories about scholar-athletes with 4.4 GPAs (and volunteer experience that make them look like teenage Mother Theresas) getting rejected by a slew of Ivy League schools. Some kids are cracking under the pressure.

Witness 18-year-old Azia Kim. The Orange County girl graduated from Troy High School in 2006, which was named #21 in Newsweek's recent list of the country's best high schools.

Azia wanted to go to Stanford, but was apparently rejected. So she showed up on campus anyway and posed as a student:

The 18-year-old kept a low profile and was able to pull off the elaborate deception for almost an entire school year, slipping into her dorm room through an open window, relaxing in the dorm lounge and talking about tests she apparently never would take, students said.

"I had no idea," said freshman Jessica Wacker, 18, who lived in the same dormitory. "Everybody was so surprised. It's so strange that everybody in the dorm could have not know about somebody staying here. She just blended in, so you really couldn't tell."

Like most readers, my initial reaction was: WHY would she perpetuate such a charade?

Several students suggested it was because of intense pressure to gain admittance to one of the country's most elite universities.

"She was perpetuating a lie that she had been attending the university," Wacker said. "I think she had told her parents, and she perpetuated the lie so far that she actually had to come to the campus to stay here."

Freshman Alissa Haber, 19, whose softball teammate shared a room with Kim for the fall and winter quarters, said she sympathized with the impostor.

"When I was going through the application process, I was pretty nervous, too," Haber said. "I mean, not to the point where if I didn't get in I would have faked it, but I can understand that there's a lot of pressure from outside forces to get into a school like this."

Azia apparently blogged about her college experience, ruminating on finals and looking forward to summer.

Many parents are understandably upset that a young woman breached campus security so brazenly, and the Santa Clara District Attorney is considering whether or not to press charges.

My reaction is overwhelming sympathy. This girl clearly nurtured this dream for so long that she couldn't bear to let it go, or to disappoint those around her. My heart breaks when I think of how desperate and lost she must have felt roaming the campus, nursing this terrible, shameful secret, wanting so badly to belong there.

Azia's pastor was stunned by the revelation:

"What I know is she got accepted at Stanford and went to Stanford," said Bert Yun, adding that he was completely unaware she wasn't a student there. "I've never heard these stories."

He said Kim was a motivated and diligent teenager, and any deception would be "out of character."

"Why would she do that?" he asked. "She's a very good person."

Yun last heard from Kim by e-mail about five or six months ago.

"When I heard from her," he recalled, "she said she was having a great time at Stanford."

I hope she gets the counseling she so clearly needs, and I hope that parents and educators everywhere reevaluate this crushing pressure we place on young people. It's too much, too soon.

My high school friend Danny was one of the smartest people I knew. Even in our honors classes, he stood out for his impressive intellectual acumen and razor-sharp wit.

Danny also had traits that were considered feminine-- a high voice, a sassy walk, a fondness for gossip and snark. We attended a school just east of Los Angeles with a student population that was probably 80 percent Latino, and homosexuality is a taboo that endures in this very macho, Catholic culture.

By junior year, Danny lost interest in academics. He was increasingly hostile and confrontational, even with his friends; he started picking fights and accusing other students of being in the closet. We had a falling out over his unprovoked attack on a friend of mine and stopped speaking. The next thing I knew, he disappeared from school for a few weeks, only to make a grand re-entrance one sunny fall day.

I remember watching in disbelief as he strutted the school hallways in cutoff denim short-shorts and a belly baring tank top, a large flower tucked behind one ear. Girls giggled and pointed. The jocks hurled insults and epithets and Danny flung them right back. A scuffle broke out after a particularly nasty verbal exchange, and teachers and administrators rushed to break it up and escort Danny to safety.

That was the last El Rancho High School saw of Danny; he dropped out, no longer willing to put up with the daily harassing and heckling. I don't know what became of him, but over the years I have hoped that he found happiness and self-acceptance.

I couldn't help but think of Danny when I read this amazing story in the Fresno Bee. It's about Johnny Vera, a transgender teen who was voted Prom Queen at Roosevelt High, a heavily Latino high school in the Central Valley.

Johnny is a popular cheerleader with a self-assurance that many aspire to. His coronation wasn't controversial; even at football games, the crowds chant his name when he takes the field to cheer.

What happened to the age-old story of someone different not fitting in during high school? (School counselor) Sosa said Vera's strength of character compels people to accept him.

"This person is amazing. He lights up everybody around him," Sosa said. "He always has a genuine compliment for everyone. Especially the shy kids. But he never sugarcoats anything. Johnny carries himself with a lot of dignity. And Johnny is so darn assertive. No one messes with Johnny."

When Sosa recounts conversations she's had with Vera, she adopts his persona, adding a head toss and shoulder shrug to her words. The week before the prom, she saw "a student jealous of Johnny" tearing down one of his posters.

"I said, 'Oh, Johnny, how does that make you feel?' He laughed. He said," -- and she snaps her fingers, re-creating Vera's delivery -- " 'Oh Mrs. Sosa. I am not going to trip over that. They're tearing down a poster, not my spirit.' "

Administrators have also been supportive:

Assistant Principal John Leal had expected Vera to grab the crown. "Word up from the kids is he's a 5-to-1 favorite," he said before prom.

Leal describes himself as a "traditional Mexican macho."

"But I like Johnny," he said. "He's a good guy. Everybody loves Johnny. He stands his ground. I remember the winter formal -- he was dressed in a beautiful dress by the way -- no one batted an eye." At the spring homecoming, Vera was named Mr. Roughrider.

"It was an honor, but I don't like being called mister," Vera said.

Vera and his sister credit their late mother for giving him the fortitude to be true to his spirit.

Vera's sister, Elizabeth, 21, said her mother never made an issue of Johnny's differences.

"Just because he was different than every other little boy, she never put it out there as a problem," she said. "It was 'we love each other,' and that was it."

When his mother was sick, she talked to him about self-respect.

"She taught me to be strong and never be ashamed of myself," Vera said. "Never see yourself as less, she said. She told me, 'You know, to really be a lady you have to know how to walk into a room.' "

I know that homophobia and discrimination are still rampant in society, but stories like this give me hope. Hope that our younger generations are growing up with unprecedented tolerance, and that their children will be even more tolerant.

Los Angeles Times sportswriter Mike Penner recently announced that he's taking a vaction and coming back as Christine Daniels; public reaction was so encouraging that he's now blogging about the transition.

And reaction was surprisingly muted when Christian Chavez, a member of the uber-popular Mexican pop group RBD, was recently outed.

These events are collectively encouraging to me; it feels like the tide has turned, and I pray we won't turn back.

And I hope that I will always love my children the way Johnny Vera's mom loved him: with fierce and unflinching devotion.

Some recent discussions have gotten me thinking about peer pressure.  If you  search on that term, dozens  of sites pop up about helping children or teens deal with peer pressure.  This site has some interesting information.  For example:

Making decisions on your own is hard enough, but when other people get involved and try to pressure you one way or another it can be even harder.