Every week, we collect anonymous entries sent in using the link on our sidebar and post them all on Monday. We post anything as long as it doesn't contain personal attacks or hate speech. Feel free to submit your thoughts and questions :)Monday, May 10, 2010
Anonymous Posts(5.3.10-5.9.10)
Every week, we collect anonymous entries sent in using the link on our sidebar and post them all on Monday. We post anything as long as it doesn't contain personal attacks or hate speech. Feel free to submit your thoughts and questions :)An Open Letter To Closeted Duke Women
My Statistics final is tomorrow morning. Of course I can’t sleep.From perusing the Me Too Blog I can tell that many women at Duke are in the closet. I also know that Janie and Chris meet with many closeted people at the LGBT Center. I like to think of myself as an approachable gal. If a closeted woman at Duke wanted to talk to another queer student, she’d feel comfortable talking to me. Yet so far I have received no Facebook messages. No e-mails. No calls. No texts. No one has randomly come up to me and identified herself as a queer woman. Why is that?
I’m a self-proclaimed Center kid. I have been out since I was 12 and visited the LGBT Center during Blue Devil days with my dad. I am committed to both Blue Devil’s United and Women Loving Women. Most of the LGBT people I interact with are open enough to come to the Center or Women Loving Women. Next year as a member of the executive board I will help shape Blue Devil’s United and I have no idea what it is like to be in the closet at Duke. I know of the many pros of being out of the closet and can also attest to its cons. Every day is an opportunity to conduct informal research. What reactions do my girlfriend and I get when we’re holding hands on the Plaza? How many people came to Lavender Ball? How do the people in club X and Selective Living Groups Y and Z view openly LGBT people? What do some members of sororities think about not being able to take other girls to their formals? When and where do I hear the most hate speech? My research has also extended beyond Duke. What is it like to be openly LGBT and homeless? What is it like to be openly LGBT at a Catholic all-girls school in San Antonio, Texas? What is it like to be openly LGBT and a great dancer?
To all the closeted LGBT women at Duke: I need you as much as you need me. The regular attendees of Women Loving Women have already convened to talk about what we can do next year to reach out to closeted women. I’m sure you’ll find our ideas strange, but hopefully you’ll also find them attractive. If you want to chat send me a message on Facebook. Perhaps in the Fall we can meet in person.
To everyone: Have a swell summer!
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Taylor Swift and Anti-Gay Bullying
There’s probably a lot that I, as a feminist and member of the LGBTQA community, could criticize about her songs. As an outspoken member of both of those communities, there’s a lot to criticize about a lot of songs by a lot of artists. And I could probably find things she does well, too. But right now, I only want to be critical about one thing, and that is a line in “Picture to Burn.”
“State the obvious, I didn’t get my perfect fantasy/I realized you love yourself more than you could ever love me/So go and tell your friends that I’m obsessive and crazy/That’s fine, I’ll tell mine you’re gay”
I was surprised when I first listened to the song and heard those words. In the context in which those words are presented, I can come up with two scenarios for the characters in her song.
1) Her ex-boyfriend is gay and she’s going to out him in revenge. I obviously don’t have to explain to the readers of the blog why outing someone is inappropriate and incredibly hurtful. In this case, though, the song justifies her outing her ex-boyfriend, sending the message that it's okay (at least under some circumstances) to out someone.
2) She’s going to spread an untrue rumor to hurt him. This scenario implies that being gay is “bad” (cause, um, you typically don’t spread nice/flattering rumors about people you don’t like/your ex-boyfriend). It perpetuates the negative connotation of being gay. More than that though, it normalizes anti-gay bullying of non gay-identified people [aside #2: I don’t think anti-gay bullying of anyone is okay…gay-identified or not. I chose to highlight the non-gay-identified part, though, because in this scenario her ex-boyfriend isn’t actually gay]. Anti-gay bullying doesn't just hurt LGBT-identified individuals. It doesn't just hurt individuals who are silently questioning their sexuality. Nor does it solely affect individuals who have gay friends or family. The fact of the matter is that being called gay or another homophobic slur is the worst insult an elementary school-, middle school-, or high school-aged kid can be called. A 2005 survey by GLSEN found that the second most frequent reason kids are bullied is because of actual or perceived sexual orientation and gender identity. Even if peers don't actually think that another student is gay, homophobic language is still likely to be used to degrade another student. Last April, 11-year-old Carl Joseph Walker-Hoover commit suicide after being bullied with anti-gay slurs for months. The point is: anti-gay bullying is harmful to anybody who bullies target, it is pervasive, and it hurts.
I don’t know that I have anything really intelligent to say about it, other than "this is bad" (which doesn't count as "really intelligent" in my book). And maybe nobody else listens to her so you don’t really care about what she says in her songs (though I would argue that as a community we need to take issue with it even if she isn't the most played song on your ipod because pop culture themes penetrate the rest of society).
Friday, May 7, 2010
A Gay Greek's Plea
Okay, here we go. I am gay, out, and in a fraternity. Best part about it: it’s not a problem at all. The brothers knew about my sexuality long before I rushed and pledged. I was worried that once knowledge of my sexuality spread, I would be blacklisted and never invited to come around again. Much to my surprise, not long after my sexuality was revealed, I was invited to go to dinner with some of the brothers. I agreed, hesitantly, wondering what in the world this could mean. Were we going to have “the talk”?! (DUH Duh duh!) We have dinner. The subject was not mentioned, not referenced, not even hinted at. I released a sigh of relief as mighty as the gust from Zephyr that killed the beautiful Hyacinth (Can you tell I love Greek mythology?). My times of hanging out with the brothers continued. Fast forward to rush. Once again, my suspicions rose that maybe I could hang out with the brothers but only as a friend, never a brother. On a last minute whim, I rushed. My heart beat at the speed of light at each event, waiting for one of the brothers to tell me what I knew I would eventually hear. I remember anxiously staring at my computer on Sunday nights, refreshing my email every 10 seconds, hoping that I would get an email inviting me to the next round of rush, but knowing that I would never get it. Again, the brotherhood proved me wrong. I received a round 2 invite, followed by round 3. Then came the moment of truth… bids. I successfully made it through all 3 rounds of rush, but would that matter? After all, it could have all been for naught if I did not get a bid to pledge and eventually join. For that entire day, I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t eat. I was sick to my stomach. I couldn’t walk because my knees were weak. I couldn’t write because my hands were shaking. The same thought ran through my head all day: No fraternity wants a gay guy as a brother.I broke into tears that night. I received a bid to join the Beta Lambda chapter of Sigma Chi. They didn’t care. THEY DIDN’T CARE!!! They wanted me to be one of their brothers! Tears of joy streamed down my face as I quickly ran downstairs to my best friend’s room to tell her the good news. I, Ashante’ Jamar Biggers, was going to pledge a fraternity.
That was a year ago now. I’ve enjoyed every single minute with my brothers. They’ve been my friends, my support group, my vacation buddies. They’ve been there through my happy times, my sad times, my confusing times, my stressful times, my blissful times. I couldn’t have asked for anything more.
So why tell you my story? Because I want everyone out there to know that yes, there is homophobia in the Greek community, but it’s not everywhere. You can find a pocket of sunshine breaking through the clouds just like I did. You just have to find it. I feel very secure about my sexuality thanks to the help of my fraternity. I feel very comfortable inviting a guy to our events. The thing that gives me the most grief is getting up the courage to ask someone. I know that if I bring a guy to a date function, we won’t have to face the stares and whispers. We won’t have to be the awkward couple that no one talks to. We could be just another couple in the crowd.
So please, for me, don’t think of all Greek organizations as homophobic because they are not. I beg of you to not generalize all Greeks as the same because we are not. I am an individual just as much as the next person. Think of the negative stereotypes that you face everyday and how you feel about them. I feel the same way.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Anonymous Posts(4.26.10-5.2.10)
Every week, we collect anonymous entries sent in using the link on our sidebar and post them all on Monday. We post anything as long as it doesn't contain personal attacks or hate speech. Feel free to submit your thoughts and questions :)Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Let's talk about Womyn.

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.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Eric Fürst

Letter From The Editor: Anonymous Columnists
I think a major strength of our site, and something that differentiates it from its predecessor is complete absence of anonymity of our staff writers. When redesigning the blog in the Fall, we decided that the use of pseudonyms connoted that there was sense of fear among Us, and that couldn't be further from the truth. To reiterate our mission statement, we are not afraid, and we feel safe here. We've gotten so much positive feedback from people that have commended the openness of the writers, and this comment is pretty much Sentence Of The Year for me. The Out Community is blowing up on campus, and I feel as if all of these pictures and full names effectively convey that.Monday, April 26, 2010
Anonymous Posts(4.19.10-4.25.10)
Every week, we collect anonymous entries sent in using the link on our sidebar and post them all on Monday. We post anything as long as it doesn't contain personal attacks or hate speech. Feel free to submit your thoughts and questions :)Glee was incredible, etc. etc.
Let's just get to it.
#1
I love being involved with the Center. Let’s get that straight. But another thing I want to get straight is this: I am straight. For some time, I’ve enjoyed being low key in the Center and showing up to events, even helping to plan some, and I LOVE the people who make up this community. But something inside me still keeps me from being 100% committed or involved. Something inside me pulls me so hard to get more engaged with the issues, to be an advocate for LGBT issues, to prove that things are looking up and with hard work here, now, we’ll get more people to be aware of these issues, too! And yet, I can’t bring myself to be fully invested. I guess you could say I’m not completely “out” as an ally. Or, maybe I am (I surely am proud to be an ally), but every time I bring up that “I’m hanging out at the Center” or “Yes, I’m participating in Day of Silence” or “Hey, come with me to this event, you don’t have to be gay or anything,” I worry that people still … assume. I especially worry about this with my co-workers. But why does that bother me? There’s nothing wrong with being LGBT … right? Is that why I feel the need to specify “straight” on my Facebook page? To qualify ally with “straight?” Then again, socially, religiously, politically, there still is something “wrong” with being gay, generally speaking. Is me being a straight ally then make the cause more valuable? More valid? Does me being removed from the “problem” give the cause more power? To a certain extent, I think it probably does. If someone is not affected by immigration issues, or healthcare issues, or minority issues, then the voices most loudly heard are usually people more empowered to speak – oftentimes, those not affected by these issues. Unfortunately, sometimes those calling for oppression are louder than those calling for freedom. But that is changing. Hopefully. Slowly, but surely.
So I ask myself again, why am I an ally? What’s in it for me? And then I think that if I’m asking myself that, then others sure as hell are asking themselves that, too. When I first started going to the Center, I felt like I was approached with caution, curiosity, and suspicion. To this day I still sometimes feel that, whether that’s truly the case or not. Do I do it to prove how “open-minded” and liberal I am? Do I do it just to get a reaction? Or, do I do it to prove that there are others like me out there, too?
After years of introspection, I think I’ve been able to start identifying the reasons I am an ally. I am an ally for the humanity and dignity and worth in you and in me. I am an ally because you deserve the same respect, consideration, happiness, protection, peace, and rights as anyone. I am an ally because I see the absolute beauty of perfect creation that you are, just as you are. No, this is not me up on a high horse. This is me exposed completely at my deepest core.
But, while these thoughts and feelings are in my mind and heart, I still struggle with openly expressing them. I still need help coming out as an ally and really not give a shit what people think – as long as it gets them to think about LGBT issues. And in that respect, I remain in solidarity with those who must question whether they can come out on a daily basis, for those who do struggle with LGBT issues and discrimination, and for those who question the power of their voice and presence.
#2
I like to think of myself as an ally. I come often to Fab Fridays, I hang out at the center in my free moments, and consider many of the individuals within the LGBTQ community my friends. Though, I often question how good of an ally I am. Yes, I am strong on the social part- but I feel like I lack in the activism part.
Recently, DUU put up the "me too" chalkboards on the plaza. One night. As I was looking at the posts for inspirations, I saw someone wrote "I hate transgendered people." I inwardly thought how horrible that was. But that was it, I thought about how bad it was then moved on to another part of the board and wrote superficially wrote "I hate going to the gym." As I waited for my companion to write something on the wall, another ally who's a familiar face at the center saw the post- vocally said "that's horrible" and proceeded to cross it out. She rewrote "I hate bigots." Echoing in the spirit of the board, my companion wrote "me too" next to it. Now that's an ally. I was so disappointed in myself in that moment- at how passive I was. I felt like a coward. I realized how recently I've become more lax in how approach the various forms of "soft" hate speech around me. I used to be so vigilantly in questioning my friends who casually used "fag" or "retard." Now, I let words coolly pass me with an unreceived eyebrow arch to mark my disapproval.
In the weeks since, I've made sure to vocally question whenever my male friends say "no homo" or "i'm not a queer." I try to openly entreat them as to what that means- why are we denigrating groups people for the sake of humor. I think I realized why I stopped doing this before, it's not a popular thing to question privilege. You get stares, stammers, and sighs of frustration. But, it's necessary. All forms of silent (and not so silent) repression are connected and need to be attacked.
Still, I constantly question how good of an ally I am for all disenfranchised groups- whether it based on gender, race, disability, sexual orientation, etc. I feel like that I am not doing enough. I feel like awareness is not worth anything if you don't do anything with it. At this point, I feel like most of my stock is based on awareness.
#3
Thank you to all the people in the Center, especially Janie and Chris. You make the lives of so many people on this campus just that little bit better, even if you've never met them.
#4
I hate being stereotyped. I am a very politically conservative individual who hates being stereotyped as a gay-hater just because I'm conservative. I have no problem with LGBT individuals, but I do when they automatically assume I dislike them (And this was even before the DCR issue!). This is not a blanket statement, and most LGBT's do not do this, but a few here at Duke have branded me a homophobe just because I am conservative, even though I've given them no reason to think that.
I really want to be able to support the LGBT cause, but every time I run into someone who judges me, I have a hard time. It seems almost like they *need* someone to be against them, as it justifies them somehow. I know most LGBTs aren't like that, but please know that the best way to advance your cause is not through trumped up victimization, but rather just being who you are and not actively seeking out people to be against you (once again, not saying most of you do that). I feel many people would rally behind the LGBT community if that happened :)
#5
I would like to apologize for my post last week in which I falsely claimed to have been diagnosed with HIV. I intended it partly as a joke, and partly as a means to encourage people to get tested. I hope that the latter did occur. I understand, however, that the post created a lot of distress and for that I am sorry.
How I Learned To Stop Worrying and Love San Antonio...Not
I’ve been thinking a lot recently about how much I’m going to miss my Duke/Durham LGBT community this summer. I think my homeland has some potential and it’s nice to have a mission but…I’ll probably just spend my time doing research and making websites and hanging out with people I already know instead of taking on the gargantuan task of assembling a cohesive LGBT woman-identified community. Though I’ve already broken down my task into manageable parts and sent some e-mails, I still feel sorry that I live in San Antonio and not metropolitan, livable, liberal, "we’re not really part of Texas", Austin (gag me with a fucking spoon.) I could commute one hour plus in horrid traffic to go to the discussion groups at the LGBT youth community center and the hipster lesbian clubs. I probably will just because I’m going to Austin anyway to work with professors at UT. Late-nighting will be difficult since I don’t have any friends who live in Austin (I don't want to repeat the Homeless Challenge.) Making friends in Austin is high on my to-do list.
Even if I volunteer at the few LGBT organizations and art spaces and go to the (male/straight/American Eagle butch dominated) gay clubs in San Antonio I doubt I’ll become a part of a legitimate community or find an acceptable hook-up. This is partly because I have difficulty talking to total strangers and partly because I rarely find someone I want to talk to.
I’m leaving Duke just as I realize that a great lesbian community exists in Durham. I have well-connected friends (ahem Summer.) And I might actually see the women I meet again. Though I’ve lived in San Antonio my whole life I have a paltry LGBT network. I semi-regularly communicate with two queer women. Maybe I fucked up in high school. I spent too much time doing math problems and not enough time getting to know the girls on the softball team. When I got pissed off that no LGBT youth community/resources existed I merely changed my Facebook status.
Now that I’m an anonymous college-age human rather than a wholesome youth I think I would have more options. I can go clubbing all I want but finding a hook-up isn’t as a mechanical, guaranteed process as it is for gay men. When it comes down to it, my desire to build community and serve the LGBT community has always stemmed from my desire for hot women. The more people I meet and the more involved I become, the higher my chances are of meeting a woman who fits my esoteric qualifications (non-white, butch-ish or femme-like, indie, artsy, conventional haircut, internationally-minded, certain piercings, intelligent, tall, fashionable, D&D free.) Though my interest has lusty origins, I can now say that being part of such a community has rewards beyond meeting people to hook-up with. The truth is that the women I’ve hooked up with don’t go to the Center. Some people don't feel the need to be part of the LGBT club. I admire their spontaneity. I can't leave my sex life up to chance. The cholos who used to hit on me on the bus are starting to look good. Maybe I should use this summer to squeeze the gray areas out of myself instead of trying to squeeze the LGBT out of San Antonio.
As I wonder what/who I’m going to do this summer, I can’t help but be bitter that I’m from San Antonio, whose motto is “Keep San Antonio Lame.” Sure, it’s better than being from middle-of-nowhere Iowa, but having to hunt for LGBT shit that’s open to women is getting old. I’ve promised myself that this is the last summer I’ll spend in San Antonio. I don’t care if Harvey Milk told me to “Stay in San Antonio and fight!” He probably never went there himself.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Special BDU Meeting Tonight
Anonymous Post #7
I’m frequently disgusted by my own arrogance, and little seems more egotistical than the self-masturbatory experience of a blog post. But I finally gave in in response to Summer Puente’s challenge that the boys “step up their game.” Here it goes.
In the last two weeks I’ve been coming to terms with the reality that I’m really, probably, most likely not gay. And that’s a tough fate for me to accept.
Then again, I never have been gay, or at least never commoditized myself as such—other people may have, and I don’t really mind. This has mostly been fine. It was only problematic once, when a guy I was hooking up with sort of vindictively told my girlfriend I was gay. I was shocked, only because I’d never used that referent, or attached it to him. In this context, it felt ugly to me. It was an accusation.
When I came to Duke, something peculiar happened; I started to garner aggressive interest from men. It happened first when I visited as a prospective student, then at a few parties during first semester, and during fraternity rush—by a T.A. for one of my classes, no less. At first, I spurned the would-be trysts, but they were never less than titillating. They inflated my ego in a maladapted way, as it wasn’t something I could actually talk about. Now, my original reason for abstaining straddled between misplaced homophobia and indifference toward the person proffering these potential interactions—a pretty standard model: drunk male in a fraternity with some kind of social cache and a reputation for misogynism and homophobia. If I was going to do this, it wasn’t going to be with a guy quaking in his Sperry Topsiders for fear of being caught, a guy who needed to blackout scapegoats in case he had to explain himself—I was hoping to find a “man.” I understand that this statement is predicated on exhaustively singular notions, but then so is my sexuality; I’m here, I’m “queer”, and I’m going to ask that you try to tolerate my postmodern flippancy for the rest of this post...
The summer before my sophomore year, I was suddenly enamored of an old friend. We discussed feelings of love and reciprocity over cheap vodka sodas. Days before my return to Duke, we kissed. It was good. It was just what I needed: a summer romance to initiate a whole new world of bisexual morphism and male lust that I could apply as I saw fit. I returned to Duke thrilled. I was officially not straight, and suddenly a categorically more fascinating individual. I managed to avoid the phenomenon (and ostensible rite of passage) of “the closet,” by basically exercising my sexuality (to the chagrin of my religious parents), but rarely even considering it in objective terms. So now I’m stoked—I have the capacity for romance, for finally saying “yes,” and for Gay—Fucking—Sex. Yes yes yes. And I’d heard that guys give better head.
So, I did something new recently. I had sex with a real gay. It was good. Sure, the sex act was purely carnal but (I thought) if I could apply my sexuality in dynamic ways, I could certainly cultivate or conjure romantic feelings more in line with the heterosexual archetypes I’d brought to bear in my formal relationships with women in the past. I went past third base. The rumors were true. I topped a few times, let myself be fingered, learned the correct order for oral and anal sex. And then I started going through the motions—willful social conditioning. I started hanging out with more gay men, visited Legends in Raleigh, Stir in Chapel Hill, Ty’s in New York, earning myself free drinks and attention. I would purposefully reference my interest in men among near-strangers just to provoke a reaction. It was fun and prurient. (I’m kind of a jerk sometimes.) I blasted “When My Boy Walks Down the Street” in my room at night, hoping that—oh boy!—one day I might just find ‘the one.’ And then...I got tired. The sex game lost its lusty allure.
Some of my the thrill of “late-nighting” in frat sections was gone, as I was offered more drugs, less sex. I became disgusted with myself, and not as a self-loathing for promiscuity—I can still count my male hookups on one hand—but because I began to objectify men in a way I never would have done with women. And so in response to this fear, I began to redirect my attention back to the “fairer sex.” I went to Shooters. I got kicked out (no, I wasn’t too drunk, that’s just how I dance). It was awful. As quickly as I’d entered, I wanted an escape. My R.A. recently solicited sex with me and—in ways completely unconnected to the person’s looks and personality—I freaked the fuck out. I’m on edge again, and realizing how precarious the mechanisms of sexuality really are, no matter how liberated my discourse might be. Sure, I can interpret or thematize the experiential phenomena in my life as I wish (ahem) but I remain nevertheless subjugated to my own sexual capriciousness, which is becoming frighteningly more material to me the more I think about it...and the more I write about it. Damnit BDU Blog. But no, really: thanks for deigning me this scintillating, pseudo-anonymous diary entry. I really need to visit Chris Purcell soon.
—Eric Fürst.
Anonymous Posts(4.12.10-4.18.10)
Every week, we collect anonymous entries sent in using the link on our sidebar and post them all on Monday. We post anything as long as it doesn't contain personal attacks or hate speech. Feel free to submit your thoughts and questions :)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.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Day of Silence at Duke Today
Thursday, April 15, 2010
When and Why I'm Silent
Maybe writing a blog post is an unconventional way to start my Day of Silence. But I had some thoughts about today I wanted to share.Some of you may know that my favorite quote--a quote which truly changed my life--is by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. He said "Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter." When it came time to apply to college, it likely comes as no surprise to those of you who know me that I chose the option to "create your own prompt" (I am, after all, the girl who applied for Program II).
Inspired by this quote, aware of the role it played in changing my perspective, and convinced it articulated my passion and forthright manner, I wrote that it was "the motto by which I aim to live my life." A line in my essay said something about how "For someone who is not afraid of death or dying, I'm awfully afraid of my life ending, at least as Martin Luther King defined it." I gave some examples of things I'm passionate about (Title IX; Girls for A Change) and things I speak up against (hate speech; an experience in Israel) before I concluded by writing that "When people don’t speak up about everyday inequities, regardless if it is they or others who are affected, it is dangerous and harmful to our society. That is what MLK meant. Our lives become polluted with injustices if nobody speaks out—if everybody is silent...That is why I can’t be silent. Not now. Not ever." [Thanks, Mom, for finding my essay on the computer at home!]
And yet, today, for the fourth consecutive year, dating back to my junior year in high school, I will participate in the National Day of Silence. [An aside: My first year, I was the only person I knew participating. As a senior in high school many more people took part (a trend for which I do not take credit). Coming here, though, from never having a community that participated, is really empowering and inspiring.] Surely, being silent today is not equal to being silent at other times in my life. After all, today is a day of not talking, not really a day of "silence." But there are still some weird opposing forces at play. Some LGBTQA advocates don't agree with the Day of Silence. Personally, it made me recall MLK's quote and my essay and about the seemingly contradictory messages, which are really not contradictory at all.
I’m silent to speak up against the bullying I’ve witnessed. I’m silent because I care. I’m silent because you deserve respect. I’m silent for your right to be you. I’m silent because you’re silenced every day.
I’m silent because you are my friend, my family, my classmate, my peer, my teammate, my mentor, my role model, my co-worker, my neighbor—a member of my community. I’m silent because I cherish you. I’m silent because I love you.
I’m silent because your fight is my fight; because your pain is my pain. I’m silent for change. I’m silent for progress. I’m silent for equality and I’m silent so there will be justice.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
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.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Know Your Status
It was a Monday. I went to the Bryan Center to participate in the Know Your Status program. I’ve done this before. Ever since I became sexually active, I have gotten tested for HIV and other STI’s; however, this time was different. I was not going for a regular check-up. I did not go into it assuming that the test was going to come out negative. I went because one of my past sexual partners had contacted me. He told me that he just tested positive for HIV and that it was advisable that I do the same. I was scared. So many thoughts were running through my mind. HIV does not discriminate. I know that as an educated college student who practices safe sex and who is not a drug user, I have felt removed from the virus. It is something I have read much about and am fully aware of the statistics, but I never thought that it would hit so close to home. I took the obvious precautions to be safe, but always felt that they were at times unnecessary.
It is extremely important that as sexually active individuals, we know our status and the status of those we are engaging in sexual intercourse with.
While I was sitting waiting for the results, my mind was racing. We were safe. We thought we knew each other’s statuses. We did everything “right,” yet here I was in a situation that was only supposed to happen to people who did “wrong.” While my test did come out as negative, my life has been forever changed. This has been one of the scariest weeks of my life and no one should ever have to go through this fear. I urge everyone who reads this to go out and get tested and continue getting tested for the rest of your life. There is no excuse not to and there is never a reason to stop getting tested.
Monday, April 12, 2010
The Gay Confessional

Anonymous Posts(4.5.10-4.11.10)
Every week, we collect anonymous entries sent in using the link on our sidebar and post them all on Monday. We post anything as long as it doesn't contain personal attacks or hate speech. Feel free to submit your thoughts and questions :)This week we had a blog meeting, and tons of people came! It was pretty much The Most Fun and We've got lots in store for the rest of the semester.
Also! I have to plug the production of RENT here at Duke because I am responsible for keeping you up to date with Duke LGBT news. And this is Duke LGBT news because duh. The production is nothing short of amazing, and we were all blown away. I'm going again next weekend, come with me!
Anyhow. We got one anonymous post this week!
#1
I have the most traditional values. I am a Black female who has been straight all her lives with straight friends and straight boyfriends. I have memories of experiences with 2 girls from my childhood. I am so attracted to other women that even talking about 2 girls kissing gets me so aroused.. it's not the same when I discuss heterosexual couples. Nobody I'm friends with would ever think I was anything but straight. But the truth is, I'm questioning. I don't know if I want a relationship with another woman, or how I'd handle it, but God knows that I really want to FUCK another woman. I put up an ad on Craigslist for someone like me... and I can't wait till I find her... so I can experience bliss: my dream of having sex with another woman using a strap-on.
[Ed. Note: Oh, hey, #1. I think all I can offer is to be careful on Craigslist. It can be kind of sketch. But so long as you stay safe, by all means you do you.]
