Pass-fail.

It was with great dismay that I read James Kirchick's My Perspective column ["The Folly of Harvey Milk High," September 16]. It amazes me that a gay man, in the year 2003, attending an Ivy League college no less, just doesn't get it.

The fact that he "didn't come out until [he] arrived at college last year" tells me that he got through 18 years of life "passing." Well, the kids at Harvey Milk--the ones for whom it was created---don't pass. They can't pass. We're not talking about the tomboy who likes to play catch or the dreamy-eyed boy who is in the drama club. Think instead Brandon Teena. The Harvey Milk kids don't just get pushed in the hallways. They get verbally abused. They get physically assaulted.

Yes, the city does have an obligation to root out the gay bashers and discipline them. But while we wait for that to happen, our kids (for they are our kids) are getting raped and murdered. So while we wait for the city to provide a safe and supportive environment regardless of a student's sexual orientation, our out GLBT kids have Harvey Milk High.

Harvey Milk High is not a folly. The folly is James Kirchick's.

Kirchick's knowledge of Harvey Milk High School, its 20-year history, and its purpose seems limited to a brief visit to the Web site and some news articles. Also, his own admittedly closeted status in high school makes his judgment of the school and the plight of gay teens in general the height of presumption.

Harvey Milk High has historically served GLBT teens who have been subjected to serious harassment both at school and home. Most are kids of color who come from tougher neighborhoods than Kirchick has likely encountered. Also, these students choose to go there--there's no forced segregation.

As a student who just finished a year and a half at the Triangle Program, a Canadian version of Harvey Milk High School with less money, I am astounded by LGBT people who expect youths to spend their time at school working on fighting homophobia. I'm an activist, so it comes naturally to me, but for most queer youths, spending every minute fighting homophobia can be draining. Schools like Harvey Milk don't exist to segregate LGBT youth. They exist to keep us in school. Most of my classmates at Triangle would never have completed high school if they didn't have a safe space to learn. When you are constantly being attacked, it's pretty hard to learn.

It's strange that someone who went to an all-male school is on a crusade to obliterate a school designed to provide a safe haven for gay students, instead of battling to reintegrate his old alma matter with women. Not once did James Kirchick point out what a tremendous failure his high school was because it lacked girls. Kirchick did point out that the atmosphere in his school was so hostile, he couldn't come out until he was away from that hellhole, and he thinks future generations could benefit from the same bigotry.

Harvey Milk, for all its limitations, is a last resort for kids who are not wanted or welcomed anywhere else. It is the only place where these children are appreciated for who they are inside, regardless of what they wear or their experiments with gender or sexuality. For these kids, this is the last chance they'll ever get to complete a high school education.

James Kirchick's column demonstrates a critical point: Intergroup relations are the best way to learn tolerance. He asserts, "If gay kids feel safe enough to come out, real learning can take place." Creating an outlet for this type of learning is the challenge for New York City public school officials. Segregating LBGTQ kids is not the proper response to societal ignorance.