Duke is so Gay. As It Should Be.

I was in London for six weeks this summer, doing the Duke in London – Drama program, and I had a thrilling and wonderful time. I recommend it to everyone, regardless of your major or experience with theater. I learned so much about England, the US and myself. I’m inspired to be more proactive about my Theater Studies major and theatrical career. I made new, fabulous friends. I had the time of my life. Big plus: so many out LGBTQ individuals and couples around London. Like whoa. My people were everywhere – at the grocery store, at the theater, on the bus, on the Underground. It was amazing. Still, I was ready to return to a life of routine and belonging at Homes 1 and 2. It’s great to be back at Home 2, Duke.

As I’ve adjusted to West Campus and reunited with my friends, I’ve fallen even further in love with this place. The magic is back, with some added flavor thrown in. I began serving as a First-Year Advisory Counselor (FAC), so between that and the [far too many] organizations I am involved in I’ve met a good number of people in this big and bright new class. Welcome, 2014!

Something particularly relevant to this blog, and you readers, is the growth of the LGBT community. The Center for LGBT Life and its constituent groups have had record-breaking interest, which I think is a result of the greater number of out upperclassmen and impressive number of out first-years. There have also been SO many straight allies excited to get involved. Every single day since I arrived on West two-and-a-half weeks ago, I’ve been approached by an ally with “How do I get involved with BDU?” “When can I get a Love=Love t-shirt?” “I love the posters you guys have up!” Duke is so gay. And I love it.

Make Gays Marry

Sort of a win-win.

For people who have hearts, gays could marry.

For crazy people, there's a risk they'll be as miserable as you.

The Book. The Cover. Judgments.

There are certain people that I usually don’t expect to be accepting. I don’t assume they’re bigoted right off the bat because I know there are exceptions, but I don’t anticipate an easygoing attitude either. One of these groups of people is the elderly group.

Now, as I said, there are exceptions. I’ve met plenty of older people who seem to have no problem whatsoever with the LGBT community. Acceptance tends to run thinner as you move through the letters of that acronym, but I know there are seniors who have the right mindset. Although I haven’t lost sight of this fact, I was still surprised by something that happened today. It was subtle and discreet, but it hit me like a double-decker bus. I’m beyond excited to be doing Duke in London soon, so pardon the misfit imagery.

Anyway, I’m walking across the parking lot. I’m wearing a large, thin t-shirt that drapes loosely enough to fly like mad in the beach area wind. I’m also in short exercise shorts and flip-flops, and my long hair is practically propelling me off the ground. I’m growing my hair for Locks of Love, so it’s around 8 inches long right now and rather curly. Not always fun.

Imagine what’s going through my mind when an older man in a polo and khakis walks toward me from his car. He’s just gotten out of his totally not cliché Cadillac, running his hand over his bald spot, then through the remaining salt-and-pepper hair on the back and sides of his head. He adjusts his glasses. He puts his keys in his pocket. As he steps forward, he looks up at the sign on the storefront and squints his eyes to read it. We pass each other and he glances at me momentarily. I’ll go ahead and tell you what I’m thinking. I’m thinking, “He is judging me so hard right now. He thinks my hair is too freakin’ feminine. He thinks my shirt is too flowy. He thinks I’m showing too much leg. I can see it in his face.”

Alright, let’s start unpacking this. 1) I didn’t even really see much of his expression. How I decided he was thinking all this – In retrospect, no clue. 2) I shouldn’t care either way. I like the way I look. 3) There’s more to the story…

As I continue walking, I notice another man getting out of the front passenger seat, dressed similarly to the driver and of a similar age. He follows the first man into the store. “Um, wait…” I turn around and watch them enter the store together. When I resume walking to my car, and once I’ve gotten my stupid hair out of my face (it’s a good cause, it’s a good cause, it’s a good cause), a dark spot on the bumper of this white, totally not cliché Cadillac catches my eye. I walk closer to get a better look at it. It’s a dark blue square. It has a yellow equal sign in the middle. Underneath it says “2007 Member.” It’s an HRC bumper sticker. Jaw-dropping. “I…am…so…stupid.”

I wanted to kick myself in the face for falling into this rather obvious life lesson waiting to happen. I had pre-judged someone I had assumed was judging me, only to find that he was probably not only accepting of me, but he may very well have been gay himself. If that’s the case, it’s also probable that he’s gone through far more trials and tribulations as a gay man than I. I try so hard to resist judging people without grounds, and this is just one more reminder that I always have more to learn about people, and myself.

All That I Am

I was recently taking the C-1 from East to West to take a final exam that would prove my ineptitude for science. As I sat on the bus, I began to think through my options as a traveling street performer once I’d failed out of Duke. I do love to dance. But I won’t always be able to plug in speakers. I’m not a bad mime, though… This is a bit of an exaggeration, but at any rate my pre-exam thoughts were interrupted by a loud voice coming from the back of the bus. A girl was discussing success stories from her high school with another young lady seated across from her. “This guy from my high school – turns out he was gay – he’s doing some pretty big things…” She then went on to say that essentially he had released his own publication and was now sneezing into hundred dollar bills.

That’s impressive and stuff, but not really what caught my attention. I’ll admit that I have a certain disposition, one that makes me inclined to catch the smaller details and stick them under the magnifying glass until I’ve burned out every single flaw. Ok? I know that. But I don’t think it’s totally unreasonable that I take issue with the useless appositive that mangled her friendly chatter. “Turns out he was gay,” huh? I wonder…what that could have to do…with anything related to his success…in any way, shape or form. And if it DOES, I wonder how intimately she understands it. She described him as “this guy from [her] high school” and said it “turns out he was gay,” so I’m not thinking they were super-duper close. That said, let’s assume she has no clue whatsoever as to how this man’s sexuality contributed to his accomplishments. She must have mentioned it, then…because she associates him with “Gay.” Lovely.

Alright, I don’t know what stance everyone else takes on LGBT social issues, but I have a pretty simple one on this: Sexuality should not matter to you. Gender identity should not matter to you. Gender expression should not matter to you. All that should matter to you is how incredible someone is, based on the personality, choices and achievements unique to that individual. Outside the assuredly fluid realm of love and courtship, it’s important that people are defined for what they have done for themselves.

Is this guy really only special because he achieved this while being gay, or in spite of being gay or whatever? When we make these associations and construct them as conditions to others’ abilities, we diminish them. Is this guy supposed to be admired as a gay publisher, or a strategic publisher? Is Kathryn Bigelow supposed to be applauded as a female director, or as a visionary director? Is Liu Wen supposed to be ogled as an Asian Victoria’s Secret model, or a beautiful Victoria’s Secret model? Am I supposed to be congratulated as a multi-racial Duke student, or a hard-working Duke student? The former descriptions of each individual are testaments to the perspectives of society at large, and the tendency to categorize people on the basis of appearances. The latter descriptions are where the real credit lies.

It’s true that many people of varying sexual and gender identities choose to make either or both of these central to their personal identity as well. Some find strength or power or voice in bringing them to the forefront. Not everyone does, though. Not everyone wants to make an ordeal of their identity or even their outward expression. Either way, if it’s not relevant to the conversation, why bring it up? In this venue I can only speak for myself and say that I do not want to be measured as a gay man. My worth is in my drive and my efforts as a person. My sexuality is not all that I am.

Love=Love

For anyone who may not know, Duke’s major LGBT advocacy campaign is “Love=Love.” Every year on National Coming Out Day, the plaza is filled with people trying to get one of the beautiful T-shirts with the original print of equality. These shirts are worn throughout the entire year, all over campus by all sorts of people. Most people at Duke are familiar with Love=Love. I love the shirts, the concept, the phrasing, all of it. So naturally, I wanted to get in on it. I wanted to help promote this way of thinking.

As someone who deeply appreciates the arts and wants to make a life/living in them, the first idea I explored was an artistic one. Some time ago, the thought struck me that I would have the opportunity to make a proposal for the annual Defining Movement Showcase (DefMo Showcase). I was hopeful that this organization I loved so much would bring light to this issue in a whole new way. First of all, I knew DefMo would be willing to at least consider it because open-mindedness is a membership requisite. Second of all, this talented, passionate and diverse group is widely recognized as kickass; I knew if my proposal went through that plenty of people would get to see it at the show. In the end, it did go through and I had all Winter Break to get started with my choreography. My submission to DefMo described a lyrical hip-hop piece, and I had chosen the song “No One” by Alicia Keys. The lyrics, the music, Alicia’s voice – all perfect.

When it came down to rehearse, though, I was nervous. All the time. Sometimes the pressure made remembering my own choreography difficult. Presenting something with so much personal meaning, something so relevant to Duke right now, meant I had to design and place each movement with the utmost care. This deserved as much attention as I could give, and I was going to pay that attention. As far as developing the choreography and the dancers’ grasp, this wasn’t much of a problem. They’re talented and committed, so that went smoothly. Still, with four straight-identified dancers, I was unsure of whether or not the dramatic component would come across. On the first day I explained to them the plotline and the intent behind my idea in general terms, so as to let them express their own interpretation freely. When performers are told exactly what to do, it can compromise sincerity. After a while, it had come to a point where the freedom of expression needed more guidance. All four dancers asked me one day to clarify my personal investment, where I saw this at Duke and what I wanted this to do. What did I want them to do? They understood the dance – two interracial same-sex couples almost forced apart and destroyed by hateful bigots are able to finally be together – but it needed life breathed into it. I told them of the hardship I faced prior to coming to Duke, of the difficulty others have here at Duke and of specific examples of the issues we meant to address in this piece. We ended up having a long and thoughtful conversation about the Duke closet, haters on campus and how we could maximize this performance. I wanted to empower the people who supported this movement and change the minds of those who opposed it. It’s a big feat, but I needed to aim high.

As Showcase drew closer and closer, I became more and more nervous. What if my piece doesn’t measure up to past Showcases? What if we get too nervous to do this right? What if the audience isn’t ready for it? With enough reassurance, the moments just before performing silenced these worries. Everyone in DefMo liked the dance when they saw it at dress rehearsal. My dancers and I know how to perform. And most importantly, this piece is not for anyone’s entertainment or comfort, but to stimulate thought and conversation. We got on that stage and we danced from our hearts. That may not make sense to many people reading this, but when you dance not for “fun,” but for expression…it comes from a different place. We put our very selves into that performance. Each movement had energy and feeling behind it, sharing with everyone our passion for a social injustice they needed to recognize. When the song had come to an end and we were at the edge of the stage, looking out into the audience with defiant eyes, proudly bearing the vibrant colors of Love=Love t-shirts on our chests, something happened. As the lights began to fade and we tried to catch our breath, the stillness cracked. They erupted into applause. The screams and claps were more than I could have expected. I was overwhelmed. When we had finished the dance, I was sure I could hold back the tears that all the emotion brought with it. But that thunder. Those smiles and screams of appreciation brought down the dams and everything behind them spilled out. I went down the stairs backstage to the dressing rooms and turned around to wait for the other dancers. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, I cried. I could only thank them. I could say nothing else but “Thank you so much.” We held each other for a few moments and cried together. What we had just done was huge, for us. We all cared about this message, and we had never danced it like that before. My friends were wonderful. These are straight-identified people who held and danced with someone of the same gender onstage in front of 1,000 people, in order that it may send a message of understanding and acceptance. They did all I asked and more.

It was received so well. People told me how much they enjoyed Love=Love, how beautiful it was, how emotional it was and even how it had changed the minds of a few audience members. Yeah, I cried again. Duke is a fantastic school and the students here are, for the most part, open and progressive. Still, we need to move it along. All I had hoped for in this dance was that I could help the process, so the feeling that I had done just that was unbelievable. Duke is going places, and things are changing.

Good for You, Straight Guy

The recent Anti-Hate Speech campaign was awesome. We painted the bridge, spread word through Facebook and Matt took some great pictures to make into posters. These posters were put up all around campus with short phrases like “I’m gay. Your textbook isn’t” next to the faces of LGBT and ally students. I wasn’t sure how all of this would be received by certain groups in the student body. I thought maybe someone would try to deface a poster or just ignore the campaign altogether. What I didn’t expect was for it to be re-used and integrated into daily conversation.

I was recently talking to a friend on the Bryan Center Plaza about the campaign, and he had only very positive feedback. He’s a straight-identified member of a selective living group, an open-minded guy with his own ideas about spreading tolerance. He thought the posters were a fantastic idea. They were eye-catching and efficient. This savvy friend of mine has noticed that, at least at Duke, there are more good hearts than one might think. The problem is that we don’t know about all of them because they don’t want to make the time to share their good nature. “I’m not a bigot, so I’m not part of the problem” is a common defense. Well, not really. If you let the bigotry fly, you’re an accessory.

A huge fear that most people have with standing up for LGBT equality is becoming “that guy” who killed the mood. What this campaign did for his SLG, though, was allow people (straight or not) to intervene when necessary without disrupting the momentum of a casual dialogue. My friend has heard straight-identified men in his SLG throw out “I’m gay!” on several occasions where someone used hate speech. Whoever had said “That’s so gay,” “No homo” or whatever the phrase may have been recognized what his/her friend was trying to say. They understood that they had been insensitive, so they apologized and addressed their mistake before smoothly moving on with the topic at hand.

I thought this was a brilliant use of BDU’s attempt at affecting change on campus! These guys are my favorite now. The first person I hear saying this is getting a hug.