Being Queer Gave Me Unrealistic Ideas About Cities

As I've been thinking of my fair San Antonio this past week I have also begun to think about cities in general. What do I want from a city? Do I even want to be in a city? Why am I so obsessed with cities?!!! (I promise y'all I will make this LGBT related!)

I live about 15 minutes from downtown San Antonio. Going downtown is an easy drive that I undertake multiple times a week. I usually stick to hip neighborhoods because literally driving in the downtown area is tricky. I am a beast at finding fun things to do. (Just ask Tiff: I found a cool, inexpensive play to see in Baltimore in a matter of hours and I don't even live there.)

I am certain I am biased towards cities because I am queer. Ever since I came out, I yearned for the neon lights of New York and the power lesbians of Los Angeles. Every show I watched, every book I read, every magazine I flipped through reminded me that I was MISSING OUT BIG TIME. It seemed that all LGBT people lived in a few fabulous cities. They had the most political clout, funnest places to meet up, most extensive resources and best overall experience. I couldn't wait to bust out of San Antonio and enter the major leagues of queerness. Only then would my sexuality stop being such a hulking "issue."

Little did I know I would get rejected from 7 colleges and end up at Duke University, my North Carolina wild card. I love Duke University and the community I have. Though Durham is a pint-sized city that most Dukies fear, it is a major hub for queer women. Do I want to stay in Durham? Probably not. I think Washington D.C. would be better suited to my career goals. But I want to leave my future location unresolved. I'll go wherever my life leads me, whether it's Portland, Boston, Berlin, Beijing or Augusta, Georgia.

Many of my relatives live in the country. They don't understand why anyone would live in a city. Whenever I express my distaste for the country, my parents remark sternly that some people prefer it. They want to be able to fish any time. They want wide open spaces to themselves. They want to see the stars. Maybe it would be nice to have natural beauty to go to when the bars close. Throughout my life many people have reminded me that you can truly feel alive in a small town. My city chauvinism is astounding and will be difficult to undo.

I know I would be incredibly lonely if I lived far away from civilization. Yet I often stay home and read a book rather than go out. I don't take advantage of all the amenities my city has to offer. How useful in an awesome alternative theater when I don't feel like making the drive? Or, more often, when my friends can't afford to buy tickets? How fabulous is a metropolis when you don't have any meaningful relationships? When you're sick from the pollution?

I'm trying to dissect what I want from a city. Do I want access to every type of restaurant imaginable? Yes! Do I want to meet diverse groups of people? Certainly. Do I want to experience cutting-edge art and design? Of course. Do I want access to a large public library? Don't get it twisted! I definitely do! When I get in my "pro-city" mentality I can't see much of anything else. I don't realize that I experience more cutting edge art and design through the internet than in person. While San Antonio is a major city in its own right something about it feels limiting. It may be huge geographically but it's not fulfilling in other, subtler ways. This is less about San Antonio and more about me. Until I find the city that feels like home I will keep searching.

Which is why I half-decided to stay in San Antonio this summer. Most of my family lives in Central Texas. Though I fantasied about moving up North in high school, I know that leaving my family will be a slow and painful process. I have friends who need me right now who won't take kindly to me running away from them. I have half-entered the real world and feel like I need to realistically assess who I am and where I'm going. If I can't do meaningful academic research in San Antonio, why would I assume that I would do it in Boston? If can't meet new people in San Antonio, why would I meet them in New York? If I can't find fun shit to do in San Antonio, why would the fun shit fall on my lap in Chicago? If I can't handle being called a "dyke" in San Antonio, why would I handle it with perfect poise when I'm in Portland? Of course I'll discriminated against in all of these cities. Of course I will encounter homophobia. Sometimes I get to thinking the grass is the perfect shade of neon green everywhere but San Antonio.

I stayed in this city as a challenge. I mistakenly believed that if I left San Antonio I would be able to achieve my dreams. I feel profound satisfaction that San Antonio seems riper with possibilities because it means I have acquired better eyes and better tools. I am fortunate to be from such a culturally complex city and near my family. Whether you are in New York City or the middle of nowhere this summer, I encourage you to take advantage of your location. I know what it's like to find your home stale and limiting. Keep searching. And if all else fails, there's always the internet. I am so excited for the people going to South Africa, England, China, Kenya, Ecuador, Vietnam, Tibet, Germany and everywhere else in the world this summer. I can't wait when I too will be able to say I am going to [insert awesome country here] to do [awesome thing.] For someone like me who is so internationally minded (I have a world map on my fucking wall!) staying in my hometown for the summer sounded completely counterintuitive. That's also why it makes perfect sense.

Back to the LGBT message: I firmly believe that no part of America should be left behind in the quest for gay rights. While I can't blame anyone for flocking to a "gay mecca" the migration of LGBT people to certain cities just serves to make the less desirable places even less desirable. If it wasn't for natural beauty, family connections and moving for jobs I fear that some places would lose all their LGBT citizens. I know I'm a hypocrite because I have have an escape plan in my back pocket. Who knows, maybe I won't have to use it.

A Year in Review

By now, the stresses of the year have started to fade, the memories of papers, finals and long nights spent in the library receding into the background as summer begins. Some of us are relaxing on the beach, or in the mountains, or back home with our families. Some are back on campus, about to graduate and to bid farewell to Duke - congratulations to all of the Class of 2010. Some are traveling to exotic places with Duke Engage, or a study abroad program, or have an internship or a job. Whatever you’re doing, I hope you’re having a fantastic time and are managing to relax a little.

I thought it was worthwhile at this point to take a little look at the past year, reflect at what our community has experienced and accomplished and to look ahead to next year. Our community is so diverse, vibrant and engaged that I won’t be able to do justice to everything that is happened, but I hope to give a rough overview of the major events that have shaped the experience of our community this past year.

The year got off to a great start with the first Fab Friday and the chocolate fountain social on East campus. The Class of 2013 has really been engaged this year, it’s been fantastic to see so many first-years get involved, step up and take leadership positions within the community. Veronica, Spencer, Andrei and Gordon are definitely people who come to mind when thinking of people who have already had a hugely positive impact already. The number of students attending BDU meetings and visiting the Center has really grown too - often we don’t have enough chairs in the room for everyone at meetings, which really is a great problem to have. The increased number of women-identified students who have gotten involved this year has been fantastic as well. Our community has continued to grow at a rate that would have been unprecedented just a few years ago.

The Fall semester was full of fantastic events that students were involved in. September 26th saw the North Carolina Pride Parade parade here in Durham, starting on East Campus and looping around Ninth and Main streets. Duke’s float was fabulous as always, winning most colorful for the third year in a row.

Fall break saw many students go on the Common Ground retreat, organized by the Council for Race Relations. Many students involved with the LGBT community have either organized or participated in Common Ground over the years and they almost universally report how amazing and enriching an experience it is. The break also saw 11 Duke students travel to New York for the Out for Undergraduate Business Conference, a business conference aimed at attracting more LGBT individuals to careers in consulting and finance.

October was a busy month, starting off with Coming Out Day, the annual celebration of LGBT individuals and allies on Duke’s West Campus Plaza. The day was one of fun, music and festivities, with 1500 of the ever popular Love=Love T-Shirts being given away. The following weekend, a group of Duke students travelled with students from UNC and NC State to take part in the National Equality March on Washington. The march saw over 200,000 protestors converge on the capital to demand full civil rights for LGBT individuals, the repeal of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell and the end of workplace discrimination. Some of the headlining speakers included Dan Choi, a US Army veteran being discharged because of his sexuality, Julian Bond, chairperson of the NAACP, Cleve Jones, a famous LGBT-rights activist and Judy Shepard, mother of Matthew Shepard. This event was a fantastic example of the activism practiced by our community and of the collaboration between the different institutions in the Triangle area. Thank you so much to Manny and Aliza for all of their hard work in organizing and planning our trip.

October was the start of our successful pride flag campaign. To raise awareness of the LGBT community community on campus, over 100 3’ x 5’ pride flags were ordered, to be distributed all over campus out of dorm room windows. The rapid uptake of these flags, not just by LGBT students, but allies as well, was fantastic to see, it truly was incredible to be walking through the main quad and see a whole bunch of flags fluttering from the window. (Many have noted that some parts of campus became a de-facto LGBT-selective living group!). In fact, the flag campaign was so successful that we ended up ordering even more and definitely intend on continuing the campaign next semester.

November was especially exciting, with the relaunch of this blog, which has just passed its six month anniversary in this current incarnation! (zomg). I think it’s safe to call the blog an unbelievable success, not least thanks to the dedication shown by all of those who contribute toward it. Huge props go to Chris Perry, the editor, who despite his modesty has been absolutely critical in the success of the blog, totally deserving of the first ‘BDU Chris Perry Award’ handed out last semester. The readers (who number many and hail from near and far) also deserve applause, their numbers keep growing and the blog truly would be nothing without them. Within a few weeks of going live, the blog was already featured on Pam’s House Blend, a nationally prominent LGBT news and opinion blog.

November 19th was the night of the annual drag, where ten amazing student performers strutted their stuff at the Duke coffeehouse, along with the ever-impressive Erica Daniels. The event was extremely well attended as always, with the coffeehouse nearly bursting at the seams. The Drag Show is always one of the most popular events each year, with this time being no exception. It was a fantastic opportunity for students to perform and express themselves through the art of drag performance.

The start of the Spring semester saw the first Triangle Collaboration LGBT Retreat, with over 60 students from Duke, UNC and NC State heading to Camp Chestnut Ridge for a weekend-long leadership retreat. It was fantastic getting to know so many students from other universities. The groundwork for a lot of future collaboration has definitely been laid and we hope to continue the retreat again next year.

The week after we were lucky enough to welcome Kyrsten Sinema, an openly bisexual member of the Arizona legislature. In 2006, Sinema lead the country’s only successful campaign to defeat an anti-same sex marriage ballot initiative. It was an honor and an inspiration for her to visit Duke for a lunchtime conversation. Just two days later Jeff Sheng, a photographer/activist brought his Fearless exhibition of out LGBT high school and college athletes to Duke. That week proved to be even more exciting, with the folk rock duo Nervous But Excited returning to Duke for a performance at Fab Friday. Right after spring break was the Lavender Ball, the LGBT semi-formal hosted by BDU each year. This time around it was in the Doris Duke center in the gardens, with record turn out. It was awesome to see so many people there, having a fantastic night in the company of their friends. At the end of March was the LGBT Passover Seder, which Dani Schocken put a huge amount of effort into organizing. The Seder was a wonderful and enlightening opportunity to learn about Judaism and the LGBT community, which I really hope continues in years to come.

April was perhaps the busiest month, with a huge amount going on, especially considering the rapid approach of finals and end-of-term papers. We had the highly visible and successful anti-hate speech campaign, followed by the inspiring Day of Silence poster campaign, culminating in the Day of Silence itself on April 16. Over 60 members of the Duke community participated in the campaigns, which sparked dialog and discussions all over campus relating to hate speech, oppression and the experiences of LGBT individuals. A huge shout out must go to our seniors, Brandy Lynn and Matt Lyons, who showed incredible leadership in helping to organize these campaigns, they worked incredibly hard to make them successes and we’re really going to miss them next year. April was also when Duke’s first undergraduate publication for queer women, WOMYN got started. The goal of WOMYN is to promote a more visible, confident and emboldened queer women’s presence at Duke. It’s a really exciting endeavor and I applaud everyone who’s helped get it off the ground, including the new editorial team of Megan Weinand, Jack Grote and Summer Puente. I can’t wait to see the first issue next semester.

Another awesome initiative headed by students was the report published by the LGBTQ subcommittee of the DSG Gender Committee. The report aimed to be a guide for improving Duke’s undergraduate environment, specifically in terms of the experiences of LGBTQ students. The report identified three main areas of improvement, in student norms, space and support/safety. Each section included concrete recommendations for the administration that could be taken to improve the Duke undergraduate LGBTQ experience. Congrats to Michelle, Aliza, Julia, Andrei, Vivi, Gordon and everyone else who was involved in writing the report.

Of course, along with all of our successes this year, there have been a number of lows and difficult incidents that our community has had to confront to move forward. In the Fall semester, the East Campus bridge, which had been painted for the NC Pride parade was vandalized with homophobic epithets and slurs. Members of our community were quick to respond however, with a glorious unicorn taking the place of the hate speech within hours of it being tagged. Another unfortunate incident of hate speech occurred late in the Spring semester at the NPHC Step-Off during the BSAI recruitment weekend. Thanks to a quick response by students, in particular Chantel Ligget’s fantastic letter, a productive outcome was possible from the incident, with members of the fraternity in question participating in our Day of Silence campaign. The week after, of course, saw the controversy involving the College Republicans erupt. I think the important thing to note with all of these incidents however, is the amazing way that our community responded and supported each other during each episode. I truly think that we emerged stronger as a group after each challenge that we faced and have taken each opportunity to learn from each incident and from each other.

This brief blog post barely scratches the surface of all of the wonderful and important events that have occurred this year - and of course it’s colored by my own experiences. There have been countless other interpretations and experiences over the past few months, each shaded in a unique way through the lens of each individual. I would love to hear your thoughts, comments and impressions of how the year went, as I’m sure there are many diverging opinions out there. Just as importantly, I’d love to hear your ideas and hopes for next year. The fantastic thing about a place like Duke is that there’s always endless opportunity to promote change and to make big things happen. Vocalizing these desires is the first step to making it all happen, so I encourage each and every one of you to describe what you think has worked well, what hasn’t and what you hope to see change or begin next year. We’ve certainly come a long way this year, but there’s definitely still so much more to do. There are still too many students on this campus afraid of coming out or expressing their true identities. Hate speech and oppression continues to be an unfortunate reality, as does the marginalization of certain groups, even within the LGBTQ community itself. The struggle for a more inclusive, affirming and accepting Duke is one that is ongoing and which requires the contributions of everyone.

There’ve been so many amazing and incredible people involved with the community this year that it would be impossible to thank them all, so I truly am sorry if I’ve missed anyone. I also wanted to thank Vivi, for being an inspiring and courageous leader, we’re truly going to miss your beautiful personality and of course, the awkward icebreakers. I want to thank Janie and Chris as well, for being such amazing mentors, guides and friends.

To all of the graduating seniors, congratulations with whatever you choose to pursue and know that you’ll be sorely missed!

The L-Word

“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 ]

I'm Not Southern and I Say Y'all

I’m from Phoenix, Arizona. I’ve lived here my whole life. My family is from the Philadelphia area. Basically, there is not a drop of “Southern” in me.

Some, especially those from home, might think that my new usage of the word “y’all” is reflective of going to college in the south. That’s where they’re half right. Yes, I’ve adopted the word “y’all” since going to college in the south. But the “southern” thing really has nothing to do with it. The real reason I’ve adopted the word “y’all” into my vocabulary is because I went to college and “got radical” (this is my favorite way to describe how much more aware of cultural issues I've become, including but not limited to LGBTQA things and feminist issues, and how much more vigilant I've become in my fight against it all).

It’s important to me that I’m living my life in a way which is consistent with my ethics. I don’t want to just talk about supporting gender neutral initiatives. It’s not enough for me to sign a petition in favor of gender neutral housing. I want to support gender neutrality with my everyday actions. So I say y'all. It’s a feminist thing. It’s an LGBTQA thing.

Now, I’m not perfect. I know I use gendered language in other ways and I know I continue to say “you guys.” I can’t unprogram and reprogram myself just by wanting to. It’s a work in progress, and I invite y'all to join me.

Summer Session: San Antonio

This summer I half-decided to stay in San Antonio. I hope to bring some necessary resources to San Antonio and eventually create a fiscally sustainable LGBT Center (using Duke money of course.) I will continue posting but be warned that my experience in San Antonio will be the main topic. I'm going to start off with a reply to a comment I received on my How I Stopped Worrying and Learned To Love San Antonio...Not post because it encapsulates the strong feelings I'm experiencing at the moment:

One problem I see with the LGBT community in San Antonio is that it's very content in its position. Speak up about San Antonio's ills and someone will quickly try to make it seem like everything's fine. In high school I was too often silenced by people who thought because they were happy and "tolerated" that I had nothing to complain about. People think San Antonio inherently can't be like other big, boisterous, gay-friendly cities. It can't support a gay district. The community is divided and lacks political clout.

But San Antonio is not a little city where this situation might be understandable. San Antonio is the 7th largest city in the United States! Its peer cities in size are Dallas, Houston, Phoenix, San Diego and Philadelphia, all of which have basic resources for LGBT people. San Antonio might be "fine" if you have a home, education, job, community and your health. If you don't, San Antonio might seem like the worst city in America. Last night I discovered that of the 50 largest cities in the United States, 15 did not have general LGBT community centers. Of these 15 cities many had centers for youth, discussion groups for youth, were part of a gay-friendly metroplex, or had services for LGBT youth in foster care.

I think Duke's situation is similar to San Antonio's. Many non-LGBT people might think that the LGBT experience at Duke is "understandable" because Duke is in the South and not historically known as a gay-friendly university. (You're in the South, what do you expect?) Many LGBT people, because of their gender, gender identity, race, interest in *gasp* non-LGBT things, lack of interest in being a part of an LGBT community or any number of other reasons don't see how much room Duke has for improvement. Duke's peer institutions are not Baylor and Texas A&M. Duke attracts students from around the world and its peer institutions are some of the most progressive in the country. Duke cannot be complacent and neither can San Antonio.

For those of yall who found this via Google and want details about the LGBT youth discussion group I started for the summer: the first meeting will be Thursday June 17th at 6:00 PM at the Cove. Check out the Facebook group San Antonio LGBT Youth Discussion Group. Please RSVP for the event. I look forward to meeting you!

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.

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 :)

Summer break, y'all. By the dip in visitors I'm going to assume that 95% of You Guys are in Myrtle right now, celebrating the end of the academic year with tempered and completely appropriate social functions. "I love it when the Dukies come down!" says Every Adult There, always.

Anyhow! For those of us that are lame/broke/staring at the HRC in a week (!) there are anonymous posts (which will be posted all Summer as we get them. So hit us up!).

#1

I just posted in the women loving women area of Craigslist tonight. I never thought I'd do something like this. Maybe it's my own fault for not putting myself out there enough. I never pictured myself writing a sketchy personal ad in the casual encounters area of a relationships section for an online buying/selling site. But then again, how desperate am I?

#2

I look forward to these anonymous entries every Monday morning. I have learned so much from the contributors here, and I hope that throughout the summer you'll keep this blog running!

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!

Taylor Swift and Anti-Gay Bullying

Taylor Swift. Lots of people love her. Others can’t stand her. At Duke, I was surprised to find guys in my freshman dorm listening to her while they sat in the hallway [an aside: I don’t think there’s anything wrong with guys listening to Taylor Swift…or any other artist. And I recognize that my “surprise” might imply some sort of gender binary and norm…but I think it’s more a reflection of the masculinity construct that existed at my high school/in my home community]. Me? I sometimes listen to her when I’m doing work. Which is what I was doing before deciding to write this post.

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.

A third possibility: Maybe I’m way over analyzing this all (it’s been known to happen).

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).

Perhaps the most interesting thing about this, though, is that when I went to look up the lyrics to confirm what I heard (I’ve been known to hear weird things that don’t exist), I saw that a few websites list different lyrics that exclude the gay line. Is this indicative of a “clean” version? Which then seemingly admits that she understood why what she says in that line is problematic. Yet she still included them.

Thoughts?

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.

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 :)

Finals week! It is officially finals week. For some, this means watching over three hours of Modern Family in my room last night instead of studying. You know who you are, All Those People That Were There.

But for serious. I'm more than a little nervous for my Concrete exam tomorrow. We're allowed to bring in 6 cheat sheets, which, uh, doesn't exactly comfort me. It's almost exactly like this scene from Kill Bill Vol. 2, where Pai Mei is like, "Pick a sword, but I do not need one" and Uma is like "Tihs is gunna B EZ!" and then it is not easy.

Captain Appropriate Cinematic Allusions, over here. This is exactly what being an engineer is like, with zero exaggeration.

Anyhow! Anonymous posts!

#1

So I’m a gay UNC student and I must say I’ve noticed lately that a lot of my conversations with friends have been driven by my sexuality. I like rating men as next as the other person and I welcome these discussions dealing with who I want to date and such, but I keep fighting to try to let my sexuality define my life. Also I have received some heat from my friends when it comes to dating because they were discussing what my preference is. I told them my tendency was not toward my own ethnicity but towards others. I don’t know why, I just have not found that many black men attractive. It is not that I’m racist or anything it is just that my tendencies aren’t toward them. Get me started on Italians...:) but see this is where the problem comes in...now I’m generalizing ethnicities to certain traits which in itself is a form of racism. But I would never consider myself racist against my own ethnicity. Talk about intersection of identities...I’m pretty sure I’m not the only person navigating this difficulty in their life right now. But it may just be that I hate falling into stereotypes. I understand that majority of stereotypes are based on generalizations. I believe it bothers me when I see ethnicities dating the same ethnicity. Something in me just goes, yay, we’re all falling into the stereotypes. Blacks don’t date anyone else besides blacks. Indians date Indians. Whites date whites. Ugh cultural stereotypes.

#2

As I was talking to my mom the other day on the phone, I decided to mention to her some of the things I was involved with recently at Duke that didn't really involve schoolwork or organized groups. I mentioned to her the Day of Silence pictures that went up over campus and on Facebook in which I was participating, as well as the "Do I Look Illegal" campaign that a lot of friends were doing. Instead of the expected response of pride in her child for taking a stand on something so important, I got asked, why do I always go looking for trouble? What if someone sees those pictures and tries to hurt me? I was taken aback. I responded instinctively that no one would try to hurt me, especially at Duke, the whole point was to take a stand for something that was right to me. She asked, yes, but aren't there crazy people at Duke? After this, I just shut down and pretty much ended the conversation by switching topics.

After thinking it through a few days later, though, I guess I can understand her point and fear. That's the kind of environment my parents grew up in. And that's the environment that they see on TV and on the radio. There are crazy people everywhere who harm others for being different or expressing their views. But not at Duke. Right? Nothing would happen to *me*.

I think that at Duke the situation, place, and experience for the LGBTQA community is getting exponentially better, but that doesn't mean that the world is moving right along with us. When we leave campus, we are not surrounded by a private institution that will support us no matter what. Or by bright, generally left-leaning twenty-something-year-olds. Or by an environment that caters to a population that actually cares about these issues and wants to "save the world" in whatever capacity that means. We are very lucky here at Duke to have this environment, but there's a lot more to be done in the greater Community. I just hope that fear will not be the cause or effect for not pushing for change in what is right.

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.

Eric Fürst

[In addition to all of our awesome visible and identifying columnists, we also have some awesome anonymous columnists that for one reason or another must use a pseudonym (and pseudopic?). Details on anonymous columnists here.]

I tend to squirm uncomfortably in my seat when someone inquires point blank about my sexuality, and not because I’m bashful. It’s just that I have to make a quick decision, and it usually depends on: how drunk I am, how long I want the conversation to last, and the hotness of the person asking. In some cases I’d rather be seen than heard. So yes I can be a Big Fucking Hypocrite. But beyond it all I’m trying to avoid using a word I find most unsavory—bisexual. Primarily, it wrongly supposes two standards of sexual expression apart from this intermediary. And then there’s that annoying idiom, that bisexuality is merely a way station for gayness. I heard a friend (entirely oblivious to my recent sexplorations) parrot this belief, and made a mental note to postpone any divulgence of the kind. And in my flirtations with the periphery of Duke’s LGBT community, I’ve been surprised to observe the wariness with which the “B” is tolerated; I sometimes feel that it’s given obligatory lip service for the sake of community but not necessarily true solidarity. I guess it’s difficult to embrace a sexual category comprised of participants who embrace categorical uncertainty.

This perception of bisexuals can be expressed in mainstream terms: straight people think they’re hiding something and gay people view them skeptically for not fully fulfilling (or maybe half-rejecting?) their gayness. If a straight man has sex with a man he is commonly considered gay, closeted, or bisexual. If a gay man has sex with a woman, is his sexuality questioned so?

I’m going to take some stabs at deconstructing this rationale. Kinsey may be an easier starting point but I think it’s a misunderstanding of the more complex social construction theories that lost popularity in the last two decades, as the gay rights movement surged and activism was badly needed as the AIDS crisis emerged. The threat that these views posed was misinterpreting sexual orientation as mere “preference.” If this was the case, the conservative opposition could dub homosexuality a choice. Then, what’s wrong with asking someone to choose different, especially if this gay option is so strongly correlated with the frightening emergence of a new disease? This idea of preference can be especially pungent when applied to bisexuality. One might assume that most bisexual men would rather—if their sexuality really was so subjective—spend their lives in a monogamous heterosexual relationship—the kind that allows identity conformity, minimized discrimination, greater sexual health, and of course, the possibility of natural procreation.

With subversion a more enlightening (or at least more daring) end than conformity, I’d probably be interested in a sexual regimen more strictly homosexual than heterosexual. But as it is, I’m happy to traipse through the nebulous grays, confusing some and delighting my own ADD tendencies. Still, it’s easy to envision adopting some monogamous gay lifestyle characteristics. I can think of several male friends with whom I wouldn’t mind signing a lease, and—perhaps unsurprisingly—I don’t exactly subscribe to the notion of heterosexual couples as the gold standard of child rearing. Yet, the thought of homosexual monogamy, from my point of view, is more restrictive than heterosexual monogamy is boring.

Anyway, construction theory doesn’t really discredit the validity of these singularly-oriented referents insofar as individuals derive personal meaning and community from them; it merely challenges the notion that this language actually defines something intrinsic in the way that physical characteristics are thought to be an expression of alleles coded intrinsically in one’s DNA. To me, sexuality hardly makes sense as a phenotype. Sexuality in its essence must account not only for intrinsic desires and orientations but also choices made on the basis of free will, which ultimately has a large stake in the gender of partners whom we seek to bed.

I would further counter that by discrediting this theory, you are not only embracing the mainstream gay rights movement, but also the rote categorization by which people dismiss, abuse, and misunderstand the deeds of others. It may be contrary to the simplicity of mantras like, “We’re here, we’re queer!”, but I think there’s an importance to understanding unconventional sexualities and resisting the compulsion to categorize. Even if one’s experience isn’t specifically covered by the LGBTQAI (etc) umbrella, in the end, it’s going to be phobias regarding otherness that drive policy and retard progress more than any pragmatic concern for the individual, or disease, or equality. For me, it’s an important exercise in unlearning the illusory differences and embracing a more dynamic conception of “self”—an exhilarating and exhausting work-in-progress with no foreseeable end.

So forgive me if, the next time I’m sitting with you in a bar, I try to avoid the word vomit above by just saying “I’m not straight”...it might mean that I think you’re cute.

—Eric Fürst

P.S. Please disagree with me. I’ve assumed an annoyingly didactic tone that I wouldn’t typically use in real life, in an effort to stoke some dissent.

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.

We were not so stupid, though, to think that everyone would be willing to be so visible. Our goal is to effectively and honestly capture what life at Duke and in America is like for LGBTQA students, and this cannot be done without also providing a podium for our closeted peers or those who just could not be as open were they writing under their full name. We set up the anonymous posting system to address this, and it's been hugely successful. 65 entries since November 9 is so many entries!

But! But. I think we may've overlooked a major possibility - that some of our out friends in BDU, more than willing to display their full name and picture, would not be able to out of fear of repercussions at home. A quick Google search of a columnist's name+"Duke" would lead here, and could very well mean a cutting off of tuition funds by parents for some or a revoking of scholarship by ROTC for others. As valued, awesome and all-the-more important as their visibility on the blog would be, it would not be worth being disowned or financially cut off. I know some that would argue otherwise and I understand their point of view, but I'm going to stick by this one.

At the last blog meeting, though, we all agreed that we should find a way to include the voices of those who were still willing to be regular columnists. Our current anonymous posting structure is not conducive to the frequency or length of columns, and I personally don't like the connotation of putting longer entries in a separate post like I did last week. So from now on (starting today) we will have some anonymous columnists.

Here's what I'm worried about. I don't want Readers to assume that anonymous columnists are not sharing their name out of fear of being out on campus. This is no doubt the case for many Duke students, and may even be the case for some anonymous staffers in the future, but I urge y'all to recognize that the choice to not identify one's self is not necessarily a reflection of campus culture (however discouraging campus culture can be). More often, I'm finding, this is a testament to what life's like back home.

Anyhow! While this seems like an obvious solution, it was a decision and precedent we had to discuss quite a bit. Like I said, pseudonyms didn't work too well on the old blog, but I'm confident that we will differ in our huge volume of identified writers that'll be right alongside :)

Okay! Let's do this!

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 :)

It's LWOC, y'all. And from all of the anonymous posts we got this week, you would think that the L stood for Lanonymous posts (my fire alarm went off at 4:45 AM last night so my jokes are going to be like this).

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.

Special BDU Meeting Tonight

8:30 PM, Duke Center for LGBT Life

By now, most people have read this or this and are outraged. In order to channel this energy into constructive, informed discussion, BDU is holding a meeting tonight at 8:30pm in the Center for LGBT Life . Please come, ask questions, and discuss.

Anonymous Post #7

[Ed. Note: For the sake of formatting, I'm putting this superlong entry in a separate post.]

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 :)

So. Much. To. Discuss.

First off, we all know that GLEE returned last week. It was okay? Jonathan Groff is marginally attractive at best with his hair like that (fellow Spring Awakening alum Matt Doyle remains infinitely awesomer and my husband). Also, can we just delete Schuster and Emma's plot line in its entirety? Let's just get rid of it. It is tedious, repetitive and does not involve Kurt, Mercedes or Sue Sylvester. It would also mean we would hear much less of Schuster's singing, which is something that we can all agree is a very good thing. The Best Thing.

Songs that have hello in them is also an insanely lame theme. I propose that "Telephone" be the key word in a future episode. #amiright?

Also, we got a RANGE of anonymous posts this week. Please respond to as many as you can, and make sure that every entry gets a comment. It's superimportant, especially with this batch, y'all. I know that normally I comment on the posts within this post, but I've been told that's sort of pretentious. Maybe! Obviously, I never meant to make my commentary or advice any sort of official response because I am an idiot 21 year old that is an idiot and 21 years old. It should trump the opinion of no one. I really just wanted to thank everyone officially on behalf of the Staff for sending something in. But maybe! I do not want to risk anything! So Imma put everything in the comments section from now on. My name's Chris for all of y'all that don't know :)

Ok. Let's do this.

#1

I am disgusted by gay people and I don't want to be. I know a few gay people and think of them as my friends, but inside I just can't shake this revulsion. I have the most respect for those who stay in the closet even though I know it's not healthy for them to do that. Sometimes I think it's really insensitive of me to harbor these feelings of disgust, but at least I keep them inside and don't show my revulsion outwardly. How can I possibly be accepting of gays when in my experience here at Duke, it only seems like they're trying to get attention any way they can? I'd love to meet just one gay person who isn't flamboyant as hell and seems sincere to me. Otherwise I just think that homosexuality is a bid for attention. Like I said, I don't want to feel this way. I just don't know how to feel differently.

#2

I don't know how I feel about homosexuality but evolutionarily it doesn't make any sense. Can someone explain to me from an evolutionary perspective, how does homosexuality exist? Survival of the fittest generally means that those who don't reproduce get eliminated.

#3

Really liked the Day of Silence posters on campus. They meant less when I saw the people on the posters talking on Friday.

#4

I am always lonely, always hurting, even when I'm with my friends; when I hurt too much inside, I hurt myself. It would be better if I could show who I truly am, but I can't. I think that people only like me because I'm funny, but I'm only funny because I'm too scared to let them know how hard it is to get through every day. My humor is a mask. I started to come to the Center in hopes that I would somehow find the courage to really be myself, or to ask for help. And sometimes I manage to open up for a little while. But it's never enough, and as soon as I leave I put the mask back on.

#5

BDU, thank you for being silent. Thank you for saying everything by saying nothing at all. In my humble opinion, Friday's DOS was a huge success. The many posters that hung around campus for both DOS and the no homo(phobia) campaign sent an immensely powerful message to the Duke student body. I can imagine that many of you who were silent on Friday wondered if it was 'worth it'. Did this day of silence accomplish anything? Can our message be heard if we aren't saying anything? Will we see change on our campus because of our actions? You can rest assured, BDU, you were successful: I heard you.

I walked around campus on Friday completely humbled. You who are already brave and confident enough to live your lives out loud are willing to stand up for those who are not as strong as you. You fight against injustice, stigma, hateful words, and outright cruelty for people you don't even know. Through your silence, you stand in solidarity with someone in one of your classes, someone you've eaten dinner with occasionally, someone you pass on the plaza, someone you sit next to on the C1 every week. You give hope and strength to those who are silenced every day out of fear. Fear of rejection, fear of prejudice, fear of the truth. Your increasing presence on our campus is a daily reminder to the silent that there is a community ready and waiting to accept them with open arms when they are ready to speak. So thank you, BDU, for your participation in DOS. Thank you for being silent for me.

#6

Frustration.

Well, that's not really a good word to describe how I feel. Upset. Depressed. Angry. Overwhelmed, maybe? Terribly...sad. Eh, let's stick with frustrated.

The center is a great place. It's full of great people, great resources, and great events. But mostly great people.

The rest of the world. Is. Not.

It’s really hard sometimes, when you hang in the Center a lot, and all of your friends are friends of the Center, and your life really doesn't function very much outside of the Center. Then, it's really hard sometimes when you can't go to Center, when you have to present yourself to the rest of the world. I feel vulnerable, weak. Terribly exposed. Naked, even. But at the same time...cold. Sheltered, Isolated. Fortfied. By this wall that I build around myself when I'm not sure how you feel about me and my sexuality. When I hear your slurs and your comments, and when I let out my chuckle that's so fake it's awkward, mentally I'm cementing another brick onto my wall that I've built between me and you. And the world. Until, I've got so many bricks that I can't get out. What started out as a way to protect myself from you has now trapped me inside.

And let me tell you, it's real dark.

I can hear my own heart beating, louder than the muted sounds of life that are going on outside of this prison. Sometimes, I'd like to scream and see if anyone could hear me, but even if they heard would they know it? I grab a sledgehammer and try to break through these thick walls. I swing and smash and watch as the cement blocks turn to dust. Only now, the sledgehammer has become a razor, a pistol, alcohol, hydrocodone, and the dust is now my body, my spirit, my will, my MOTIVATION. Because I see infinitely more blocks behind that one.

All I can say is, thank God for the Center.

What do I do when I can't go there anymore? I think I am suffocating.

#7

See separate post.

#8

I know this is a recurring theme on the blog, but I feel like venting, so here goes. I guess I feel very lonely at Duke, not because I lack friends, because I don't, I have a fantastic group who are close to me. It stems more from the fact that after being here for a few years and I still haven't had a meaningful relationship. Every time I see the couples who are involved with the center, both male and female identified, I feel a pang of envy. Many of them seem so content and comfortable in each other's presence, which is fantastic and I'm really happy for them. My overriding, selfish thought however is "Why not me, what do they have that I don't?" The fact that Duke's LGBTQ community is so small just compounds it.

Perhaps I just haven't met the right person, perhaps my standards are too high, perhaps I'm just unlucky - it could be any number of reasons. Everyone tells me to be patient, to wait and that the right person will come along eventually. Rationally, I know that they're correct, but it's very difficult to be rational about something as emotive as a relationship.

I know I should be patient, not let it get to me and realize that many other people are in the exact same situation. But it's difficult. It's really worn down my self confidence and esteem over these past few years. I've started to wonder about what huge flaws I must have to make me so uninteresting to others and which cause me to fail whenever I pursue someone else.

So there's my spiel. For all those out there in the same situation, I truly empathize with you - I hope you meet that special person sometime soon. It'll be one less of us in this situation.

#9

I don't know what to do. I just got the call from Durham Public Health last week, and I'm still in a state of utter shock. I always knew that hooking up on the internet was sketchy and dangerous. I always felt badly about it…but what could I do? Most of the gays at the center won't even look at me, (Do they look at anyone without a nice camera and Common Ground apparel?) let alone pay me any romantic attention. I was desperate…I needed that close contact and intimacy that only being penetrated can provide. But the condom broke…and now my life is over. I'm HIV positive and I don't know what to do. I can't tell anyone…but there's someone who has to know. I had unprotected sex a few weeks ago with a guy at Duke and I don't know how to tell him that he may be infected. There are lives at stake...