[Small spoiler note: I tried not to include any huge spoilers about the plot of Mrs. Dalloway, but I did include a few excerpts about the relationship between Clarissa and Sally Seton.]

[Small spoiler note: I tried not to include any huge spoilers about the plot of Mrs. Dalloway, but I did include a few excerpts about the relationship between Clarissa and Sally Seton.]

[Note: Reply and add your own ideas to the list!]
Two weeks ago, a group of my friends and I went to our very first LGBT pride parade in New York City. GAH! Exciting!!! Well, to be honest, we really didn't know what to expect. Decked out in our rainbow flags and our Duke Love=Love shirts, we were hoping for an amazing time. We were ready to be blown away by the supposed craziness.
If I had to sum up Pride in one word, I would definitely pick celebratory. I loved seeing members of our community so excited and happy to be exactly who they are. I think everyone should go to Pride at least once, if only to see that strong sense-of-self and happiness. It was very powerful to be a witness to that kind of self-confidence.

A quick note to my fellow Pride virgins reading this: cheer loudly. You’ll get more attention. My friend Cynthia and I started going pretty crazy about halfway through the march, and we were blessed with Mardi Gras beads in all colors of the rainbow, countless LGBT stickers (my favorite was “God made me a Lesbian”), a view of someone’s undergarments (well, you know), and one woman who was intent on drenching us with her super soaker. (Twice.)
I think the thing that surprised me the most about Pride was what got my attention. I really enjoyed watching SAGE, a LGBT advocacy group for elderly members of our community. (See picture, bottom right.) Some of these participants looked to be about 80 years old, and as they walked by, I wondered how different of an environment they had when they were coming out. Fifty years ago, could they have even fathomed the march we were having right now? Did they even have a name for some of the LGBT labels that are so commonplace today? (Was “queer” still derogatory?) What relationships and loves did they have in their lives-and did society let them flourish? Or did they have to lose them because they weren’t born in the time that we were? I had so many questions for them that I didn’t have the time to ask, so I just went crazy cheering for them and waved our rainbow flag until they smiled back.

I also found myself getting really excited to see all of the PFLAG groups at Pride. (PFLAG chapters were actually the most prevalent group at the parade!) One young man from PFLAG Long Island held a sign that said, “I’m walking for my two moms”, and another held a sign that said “We love our lesbian daughter”. Wow-I'm proud of them.
But if there is one thing about Pride that I will never forget, it was the people I shared it with. I have this great memory of standing on the side of 5th avenue, watching parade floats and groups move past me, and then stopping to look to my left and right on the sidewalk. I see 7-8 of some of my closest friends at Duke, many of whom are not LGBT. In fact, most of these friends identify as straight. And yet, they are here. I am surrounded by people who support our community so much, that they drove all the way up to New York City (and took a hellish Chinatown bus back), just to say, “Yes, you should be proud!”

I think Pride will mean something different to everybody-there will be parts that speak to you, and parts that do not. We cannot relate to everything. But I think the universal feeling I received at Pride was acceptance. Acceptance for exactly who you are-LGBT or straight. So I guess that was the best thing about Pride. To see such a historically marginalized community be so loved, so supported, and of course, so proud. I saw our community on fire with pride that weekend, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen us in a better light.
[Note: I've heard a lot of different perspectives on Pride, and they're all entirely valid and worth bringing up! I'd love to hear your ideas about LGBT Pride and what it means to you.]
What is it like to be a queer woman at Duke? Let's talk about it!
So, I recently got dumped last week. It was pretty much devastating.
Okay, that’s a huge exaggeration. It’s more of a joke that I had with a few people in the Center last week, but let me explain:
I recently encountered a woman on campus who I thought, 110%, just had to be queer. I was so super-thrilled. I had never seen her before. She was new! And guess what else?! She was completely beautiful, apparently single, and I was totally, totally interested.
On top of all that, she had what I could only dream of in a woman: to quote Summer, she was super gay, or super-queer, whatever you prefer. She was amazingly out and visible.
How did I know this? My flawless gaydar gave this girl a solid QUEER rating. She had all the tell-tale signs that one might look for. Rainbow flags on the water bottle? Check. The laptop? The backpack? Check check. The Look? (Come on, you all know what I’m talking about. The across-the-room, unmistakable, definitively gay, Look.) Yep.
I was so excited. I was in the Loop with my friend, Nathan, and when she came over to say hi to me, I think I almost dropped my electronic blue Loop buzzer. I felt like I was 5 years old. I grabbed Nathan by the arm and practically hyperventilated as I turned my back to her: “Is she coming over here?!” I tried to play it cool. It failed miserably. Before I know it, she’s in front of me and she’s started talking to me. I begin to ignore everyone else in the room.
But I was having the time of my life, because a beautiful queer woman knew my name, and I knew hers.
Fast forward to our 3rd encounter of the week. I bump into my new girlfriend (or, whatever) while I’m walking around campus the next day.
I’m trying to play it super-cool. But I remembered getting some advice from friends in the Center: “be intentional about your actions. Come out to her. Be honest. Start the relationship off by being genuine right away.”
So I thought, “hey, that’s good advice! I’ll come out to her, she’ll come out to me right afterwards, and we’ll move in and start this crazy life together.” I’m basically already planning our wild trip to Jamaica. Sweet.
I used the best line I could come up with, hoping it would seem smooth:
“I really like your rainbow stickers.” (Hey, if you have a better idea, let’s chat.)
She smiled: “Oh, thanks!” Silence. I try to play it cool:
“So…do you have them for visibility?”
She looked at me. And then she looked at me.
Oh God. It hit me. Something’s wrong. Panic mode. The Look had disappeared. Something wasn't right.
“Well, so…one of my best friends is gay…”
I stopped listening. I already knew by heart everything else that would come after it: Ally.
I was dumbfounded. I decided to try and save whatever face I had left. (Too bad I’ve already Googled the tickets to Jamaica. Expedia seemed to have good prices.) “Cool, sweet. Where on Central are you living? I love that song too. Yep, I agree, the weather is great. Have a nice day!”
But I was crushed.
Ally.
Don’t get me wrong. I love (not like!) allies. I love them so much. Why? Because I know what a ridiculously long time it took just to get myself to walk through those LGBT Center doors. And then, to see them do it, when they have the same social pressures to deal with, but they don’t even identify? It’s phenomenal. I just love it. I love them.
But I don’t love it so much when I think you’re super gay, or super queer, and you’re…just…not.
After getting dumped that afternoon (I’m exaggerating, but you get the idea), I wanted to forget about the whole thing. And I basically did, until Nathan, that same friend from the Loop, told me the following:
“I was just going to say that I really love seeing you talk about the women you're interested in. You just light up.”
Wait, really? I asked him to clarify.
“It's very true. I just thought of you grabbing my arm that day, and telling me to see if there was a table nearby her, and how you just lit up, and it made me smile. And while that girl may not be available, the fact that you could do that, and would do that, makes me smile.”
It was really great to hear him say that. Because before he told me this, I had thought of the incident as “that embarrassing time when I was blissfully unaware that I was hitting on a straight girl.”
But he was challenging me to think differently, to think of it as what it was: Real. (With AJ’s capital R.) Not just queer woman meets straight woman.
But queer woman works up the courage to do something very queer.
And that might be something worth remembering.

“I’m gay.”
That’s how I come out. Or at least, that is my current word choice for the moment. I haven’t had to use that phrase at Duke for awhile now. But now that I’m back in Tucson, Arizona, in addition to feeling the heat, wincing in pain when people talk about SB1070, and just generally enjoying home for a week, I’ve also been coming out again to a lot of my high school friends who didn’t know I was gay beforehand. Luckily though, coming out the second time is almost a walk in the park compared to the first.
But I said it again. The G-word.
I first realized it yesterday when I was discussing my sexuality with my best friend over coffee. I kept using statements like, “Well because I’m gay….”, or “Being gay has allowed me to…”. Notice a trend? It’s always the G-word. Never the L-word. Always gay, never lesbian.
So…it got me thinking. Why don’t I use the term lesbian more often in conversation? Is there some sort of positive connotation that the word “gay” has that “lesbian” just hasn’t reached yet? Does calling myself a “lesbian” seem more abrasive? More radical? More “other”?
Quick side note: (I have a point, I promise!) - If I had to pick my favorite queer television show, it would actually be the L-word. Don’t get me wrong-it isn’t topping the lists of America’s most elevated television programming. To begin, for a queer woman’s show, it portrays a strikingly high ratio of femme lesbians, with few butch or androgynous women to counterbalance that. To add to that conundrum, bisexuality is oddly absent as well, with the exception of one or two of the lead women identifying this way. But despite it’s flaws, as a queer female, I also can’t avoid the fact that it was an entire 6-season show that focused almost exclusively on queer women and their lives and relationships. So I pretty much thought it was awesome.
The thing I loved the most about the show was that the lead female characters really embraced the term lesbian. It was their power word-they owned it, dropping it as often as they could. There was no hesitation. I don’t really think they ever used the word gay when they described themselves.
I think that’s something I’d like to personally work on-to really own the word lesbian and use it more often. I just finished reading 2 books by feminist author Jessica Valenti, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned from her writings, it’s that a patriarchal society tends to devalue femininity-all types of it. Lesbian, is an innately female word. Ergo, perhaps our society, in an effort to discredit women in general, takes a stab at LGBT women too.
“Gay” doesn’t define us all. “Lesbian” certainly doesn’t either. That would overlook the transgendered, bisexual, intersex, pansexual, allied and queer communities at large. I also understand some people don’t want a label. To be perfectly honest, I don’t want a label either. But there is a difference between forcing yourself to adopt the word lesbian as a label, and just plain using the word more often. I wonder if part of helping more people to identify as queer also means making these labels more accessible, more commonplace and more visible.
If we don’t use the word lesbian, who will?
[If this topic is interesting to anyone else, I'd super love to see what other people have to say. :D ]

You are an 18 year-old female, and you’ve just been accepted by Duke University. It’s the morning of Blue Devil Days, and you’ve somehow managed to escape your parents for a few moments. (Success!) And hey, just for fun, let’s throw in something else to make this story a little more interesting-you also happen to identify as a bisexual woman.
So, you’re on the Main Quad, and you look around you. This place is awesome. Wow, it’s Duke! You’re still shocked that you even got accepted (or at least, I certainly was). You decide to go inside Perkins library and check out the Duke Chronicle to see what’s going on at campus this weekend. After flipping through a few of the pages, you determine that you really need to look up LDOC on urbandictionary.com when you get home. You set the Chronicle back in the newsstand and start to walk away.
And that’s when it catches your eye.
“WOMYN: An undergraduate publication for queer women at Duke.”
Your heart stops. Could it even be possible?
Yes, it is absolutely possible! And it is happening this Fall! The idea to do a publication was Janie’s, the namesake was Michelle’s, but the publication is ours. There are two rules to the publication. The first, is that every piece submitted needs to have a queer women’s focus. (And also, that it’s nonfiction. So no unicorns.) We’ll accept anonymous submissions, but hopefully most students will recognize the importance of using their full name. The second “rule” is that anybody can submit a piece! Faculty, university staff, graduate students, undergraduate students, women and men alike-submit your voices! Whether that is your personal testimony, photograph, poem, essay, or straight-allied support, we want to hear about it from you.
We would love to see this publication become embraced by the University. Let’s put ourselves back into the Keds of that prospective freshman. She would see the Womyn publication as she passed the newsstands on her tour of Duke, but this is not the only thing that she sees. She would also see a larger, confident, and powerful queer women’s presence at Duke. She would feel empowered, because she would know that all of her belongs at Duke, not just part of her. It would be revolutionary.
And this doesn’t affect just queer women either; what if I’m a gay man who sees this publication? Or maybe a straight woman? A straight man? How do I change? Maybe I realize I’m free to be me as well? Or maybe I just find that kind of honesty and confident openness a breath of fresh air at Duke.
Or, to take a different example, think about how Womyn might affect closeted queer women at Duke. Let’s say I’m in a sorority, and I happen to be straight. But I’ve recently picked up on the fact that my “Little” probably isn’t. What do I tell her? I want her to know that I love her just the way she is. We, as a sorority, love her just the way she is. But she’s afraid to come out. She isn’t ready yet-she needs something to affirm her. So, I pick up my pen and I write an article to Womyn: “I know one of my sorority sisters is gay, and I just wish she would know that it wouldn’t change a thing if she came out. We love her, and we’d always love her. I hope she knows she has our support.”
The excitement for this project is almost hard to contain-the examples from above are just a few of the things we’d like to accomplish. Come August, we’ll start soliciting for submissions, selecting pieces for the upcoming issue, and working on the publication of the very first edition of Womyn. =) On the listserv, we’re going to email with scheduled meetings and ways we can all help!
Feel free to contact our managing editor, Jack Grote (jack.grote@duke.edu), myself (megan.weinand@duke.edu) or Summer Puente, our Senior Layout Editor (summer.puente@duke.edu) for more information. Also, if you’re in the area this summer, Jack, Summer and I will be working here in Durham to hit the ground running in August with layout, ideas, etc! Stop by the Center or email if you’re interested in making Summer 2010 the summer of Womyn (to quote Ms. Puente).
Interested? Me too.
Let’s make queer women an integral part of Duke.
