'So gay' trial so sad on so many levels

It's a good thing there's no jury hearing the civil trial involving the Maria Carrillo High School student who uttered the infamous phrase, "That's so gay."

Just imagine the range of reactions to this sideshow from 12 reasonable people.

Juror No. 1 might be outraged that any adult actually believes teen- agers can be stopped from being mean to each other.

Juror No. 2 might wonder what's wrong with the girl's parents, who have turned their objections to the school's diversity efforts into a years-long legal fight.

Juror No. 3 might wonder how the Santa Rosa City School District's high-paid legal team ever allowed this mess to fester so long that it actually made it to trial.

And who knows what the rest of the jury might think. Odds are at least one would say, probably to himself, "This is so gay." Another might decide, "if this is how Latter- day Saints practice their religion, I'll stick with the early-day variety."

Forgive me for that. I know that insults based on sexual orientation and religious practices are not nice. Unfortunately, they are human nature. And when it comes to adolescent humans, those kinds of insults seem to be second nature.

It's a defense mechanism. Teen- agers haven't yet learned enough impulse control or gained enough self-confidence to respond to slights in more thoughtful or productive ways, so they seize on the most glaring sore spot of their adversary.

His looks. Her clothes. His intellect. Her race. His religion.

It's not right, but it's reality.

It's the proper role of schools to teach kids that such comments are not acceptable. After all, once they get into the real world, slurs about race or gender or religion might cost them their jobs.

But why did administrators at Carrillo feel it was necessary to give a written reprimand to Rebekah Rice when she responded to teasing about her Mormon religion by saying, "That's so gay"? It's hard to recon- cile the discipline meted out to her with the school's lack of response to religious insults directed at her. (The girl never complained to anyone about those insults. But neither did anyone object to her "gay" remark, except a teacher who overheard it.)

On the other hand, it's hard to believe the Rice family's lawsuit is about clearing their daughter's record. The trial seems to be more a continuation of Elden Rice's seven- year battle over what he has called the school's "homosexual agenda."

The father of seven began this crusade in 2000, protesting Carrillo's first "Day of Dialogue," an all-day lesson on diversity issues. Rice and other parents complained the school had not given them sufficient notice before exposing their kids to a sexual curriculum, as required by state law.

Since then, the Rices also have protested regarding a Diversity Club presentation in their daughter's class, and complained when she was assigned alternate work after refus- ing to attend a class screening of the R-rated "Saving Private Ryan."

But if Rice used his daughter to make his political points, the school provided him plenty of fodder. It apparently failed to follow its own policies on parent notification, even when it knew Rice was agitated about the issue. After he complained his daughter was being singled out, officials searched her backpack in response to a report of a "Rebekah" with a knife and cigarettes. The school now says that was a mistake.

There seems to be no danger, however, that either the school or the family will acknowledge that any other mistakes have been made in this saga. And that's too bad, because it seems both sides have a few things they could be sorry for.

That would include the failure of both parents and school to do a very good job of educating Rebekah, who testified that when she said "That's so gay," she had never connected the phrase to sexual orientation.

That's so sad.