When Sprout Chinn applied to a premier Catholic high school in the Portland area during her eighth grade year, she received perfect scores on her application.
A five for academics. A five for community involvement. A five for her interview.
She figured that after years of hard work and dedication to academics and volunteering, she had an excellent chance of getting accepted to the prestigious school.
When she went to interview with the admissions office accompanied by her mother, school representatives asked Chinn at the end what kind of family traditions her family took part in.
She immediately blurted out a long-standing tradition in her household: “We go to the gay pride parade every year,” she told them.
Chinn received a zero for religion. She was denied admission.
She realized at that moment that getting rejected by the school was the “best thing that ever happened to me.”
“There is no difference between my family and any other family that I’ve met.” – Sprout Chinn
“That kind of made me realize that I would much rather not be accepted for my family or being myself instead of pretending to be someone I’m not,” says Chinn, now 15 and a sophomore at Grant High School.
Chinn’s parents are gay. They proudly sport a rainbow flag that streams from their front porch in Northeast Portland and live in a self-proclaimed “gayborhood,” surrounded by several other gay families.
Yet, to Chinn, her family is no different from any other in the sense that they all care for each other. In fact, it took Chinn until grade school to realize the physical differences between her and friends’ parents.
“It’s really not different at all,” says Chinn. “I didn’t even realize that my family was different until I was in second grade.”
Shanti Dubey, a close family friend who is a sophomore at Grant, says he’s never felt uncomfortable in the Chinn household. “It feels completely normal when I’m over there,” he says. “I’m just as comfortable there as I am at my house.”
Chinn’s parents held a marriage reception in March 2004, just weeks after Multnomah County allowed same-sex couples to get married. For one of the most memorable days of her life, Chinn remembers being pulled out of her kindergarten class while wearing her white dress, eagerly anticipating the reception.
“I remember we were really rushing to the car,” she recalls. “When I got out of class, I asked my mom, ‘Why are we going so fast? Aren’t we going to get there on time?’
“We want to get married while we still can,” she replied.
That particular day remains embedded in Chinn’s mind.
“My parents were so happy that day,” Chinn says. “They love each other…so much. It really shouldn’t be decided whether or not they can be married by someone who’s not them.”
Less than a year later, Measure 36 – a ballot initiative that formally defined marriage as between a man and a woman – was passed in Oregon. That’s when Chinn’s parents, Patricia Raicht and Anne Marie Chinn, received a receipt and a $32 refund, announcing the recognition of their marriage had been denied.
“The refund check was sort of like a slap in the face,” Raicht says now. “It was like ‘Really?’ That was really very devastating for us as a family.”
“I know that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with my family and the way we live.” – Sprout Chinn
Chinn, five at the time, distinctly recalls her parents coming out of City Hall the day Measure 36 was passed, and asking them, “Are you guys going to be able to stay married?”
“No,” they responded. “But we’re really close.”
It’s been almost 10 years since Measure 36 was passed. The verdict remains the same: no same-sex marriage in Oregon or in 36 other states in America.
“If we were so close 10 years ago,” Chinn says, “how come it’s taking this long?”
Even in a school, neighborhood and city that’s regarded as an accepting community, Chinn still occasionally faces complaints about her family.
At Laurelhurst School where she attended from kindergarten through eighth grade, people would approach her and remark that they felt sorry for her because she didn’t have a dad.
She still hears the protests today.
“At Grant or even at work, there are people that have come up to me and just told me ‘I don’t think the way you live is right’ or ‘There’s something wrong with you and your parents,’” she says.
Chinn says “my moms,” not “my parents,” and has grown to accept the fact that some people simply don’t side with her opinion.
“I respect other peoples’ beliefs,” Chinn says. “But I know that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with my family and the way we live, and that’s what’s always going to be true to me.”
Although there are always going to be people who disagree with Chinn’s family lifestyle, she has continued to try to make a difference in the community. “She’s one of the most accepting people I know,” Dubey says.
Since she was seven years old, she has been advocating constantly for gay rights – whether it’s going to the gay pride parade, traveling across the country to represent the LGBTQ community, or calling hundreds of people to raise awareness for the upcoming measure on same-sex marriage.
In fact, when Washington state had a proposition on same-sex marriage on the November 2012 ballot. Voters passed it and the law went into effect a month later. Chinn was named national Human Rights Volunteer of the Week for making around 500 calls to raise awareness.
“She makes us proud every day,” Raicht says, “and that’s the truth. She does so much, and I have to say, an awful lot of advocacy. She teaches us something new every day.”
Chinn has every intention of continuing to support social justice and gay rights, hoping to keep it a “big part of my life.”
She volunteers more than a staggering 100 hours every month for local charities, such as Oregon Zoo, Basic Rights Oregon and the Oregon Humane Society. She’s also had an internship at the Center for Intercultural Organizing.
She spends several hours daily at Portland Metro Performing Arts, where she has been dancing for more than six years.
At Grant, she formed the Asian-American Alliance and is heavily involved with “It Gets Better,” a club exclusively created to bring together those who have suffered from bullying, as well as the Gay Straight Alliance.
Chinn’s choice to apply to a prestigious college-preparatory high school was based primarily on her hopes to get into a top school, such as New York University or the University of California-Irvine. Her constant dedication to dance and service have steered her toward a potential career in either choreography or nursing.
When Chinn applied for that school before her freshman year, her parents were wary about the implications of going to a Catholic school. Going into the interview, only one parent went and they gave no indication that Chinn had gay parents.
However, at the end of the interview, Chinn ultimately chose to do what would make her most happy, telling the interviewers she was an advocate for social justice and a member of the LGBTQ community.
“I was so proud of Sprout,” Raicht says. “She didn’t want to feel like she was hiding in any way. I was really, really proud that she was so comfortable in herself and our family and that she could do that. She didn’t want to hide who she was.”
Walk through Chinn’s house and you’ll find a family in harmony.
Sitting comfortably in between her moms and eight-year-old sister Hallie on a spacious, red couch parked by their living room window and a battered “No H8” sign lying next to them, Chinn knows her family has nothing to hide. They operate just like anyone else, with each family member contributing in their own way.
As a soft beat sounds out from the speakers on the kitchen counter, Hallie eagerly awaits dancing instruction from her older sister, and they work step-by-step on the hardwood living room floor, with the occasional compliment or critique from her older sister.
Her parents bustle around the kitchen, preparing a tomato and mozzarella sandwich for Sprout and a ham sandwich for Hallie.
“Food’s ready!” calls a familiar voice, prompting Chinn and her sister to scramble. Chinn dances around the table, laying down silverware for the salad as Hallie hauls a pitcher of water to the table.
The energy quickly shifts. Plans are made for Hallie’s approaching birthday and stories about Disneyland are exchanged, with laughs in between.
As lunch comes to a close, Chinn and her younger sister dutifully excuse themselves, clear everybody’s places, and resume their dancing lessons.
“The values that we hold are pretty much the same. We all love each other, we all sleep under the same roof and we’re all there for each other.” ♦
