Springsteen Chosen Family: A Pride Flag and Refuge

On a dirt road in a Vermont town of 500 people, a pride flag hung on Bennett's barn. For teenage Sylvan Groth, it marked the end of a three-hour drive from the emotional violence in her suburban Boston home. Her aunt's house offered refuge, along with Greetings from Asbury Park, Live 75 to 85, and family mixtapes. Her Springsteen family of choice began with people and places that were safe.

A pride flag marked the end of a three-hour escape

Sylvan came to understand herself amid the increased queer visibility of the 1990s. At a concert in 1995, she learned that Amy was gay. Amy did not fit Sylvan's inherited picture of a lesbian, and Sylvan already knew she could not honestly promise never to be attracted to a girl. Jill Sobule's I Kissed a Girl arrived in May of 1995, while Streets of Philadelphia also belongs to that period in Sylvan's memory.

The stakes at home were clear. Sylvan's mother and stepfather married in 1991, when Sylvan was about 12. Before she came out as bi, her stepfather said he could tolerate any kind of boy she brought home, but never a girl. She was not physically attacked at school or initially at home, but emotional violence established its own control. By 16, 17, when she could drive, she avoided the house whenever possible.

Vermont gave her somewhere to go. Bennett's flag told her that somebody on the road understood what welcome looked like. About 10 years later, Sylvan met Bennett and described those tearful drives. His answer was simple: that was why he had put it there. The sign delivered its message without requiring anyone to knock, disclose an identity, or ask permission.

His answer was simple: that was why he had put it there.

The Springsteen family of choice was built on a contradiction

Sylvan's stepfather also loved Bruce Springsteen. They listened to The River together repeatedly. Musical taste is no character test: someone can respond to Springsteen's records and still target a bisexual family member. The shared album did not cancel the slurs or make Sylvan safe.

The divide became unmistakable at a dinner after Sylvan left for college. Her stepfather repeatedly used anti-gay slurs. When she asked him to stop while she was present, he screamed and threw something. His childhood friend followed her into the driveway and suggested things might change if she told her stepfather she was bi. But he already knew. Sylvan understood the language as a weapon, not a mistake.

Sylvan understood the language as a weapon, not a mistake.

Family of choice depends on repeated behavior. Jesse Jackson and Sylvan call each other brother and sister. Every other week, they record Perfectly Good Podcast, working through every John Hiatt song in alphabetical order and sometimes spending an hour or two a week talking music. The bond gives Sylvan dependable connection outside her family of origin, with room for pain, queer joy, and affection without denying what happened.

Common ground cannot require denying what happened

Sylvan decided never again to sleep under the same roof as her stepfather. She still loves him, but that does not make the boundary unnecessary. Her mother has said she does not remember the incidents and that none were that bad. Common ground cannot require the harmed person to surrender the facts. A well-meaning verbal mistake is not deliberate emotional violence.

Common ground cannot require the harmed person to surrender the facts.

The same distinction applies when scripture becomes a weapon. Jesse and Sylvan ask why selected verses justify hostility while teachings about love receive less attention. Their examples are concrete: Leviticus raises mixed fabrics, while scripture addresses tattoos and charging interest. If those matters are treated differently, including interest charged by Goldman Sachs, the selection deserves scrutiny. The question is why interpretation concentrates on language that licenses rejection.

For Sylvan, pride requires pain, activism, and joy. Omitting pain tells queer people in 2026 that their struggles should be over, leaving those still hurting to blame themselves. Jesse says Sylvan is a suicide survivor who celebrates a second birthday. She is also private and wishes she did more to signal safety. Bennett offered a practical model: put out a clear sign, mean it, and remain safe when someone reaches the end of that three-hour drive.

For Sylvan, pride requires pain, activism, and joy.