Womyn Wednesday!

[WOMYN magazine is excited to announce that we will be featuring polls from our community in the magazine! We want to hear what you have to say about LGBT issues, queer women and Duke! The general goal of WOMYN magazine is to increase the visiblity of queer women on this campus. A special thank-you to Chris Perry, the editor of the BDU blog!]

Thank you to everyone who participated in last week's poll. The responses were really great, and if you haven't voted yet you still can. We would also like to announce that the deadine for submissions to WOMYN magazine is September 15th. Click here to look at some ideas of what to submit. (Remember that submissions are rolling, so the sooner you submit, the better!)

This week's WOMYN poll is: "Does Duke seem like a safe place for someone to come out of the closet? Have you come out of the closet at Duke? Why or why not?"

Click here to take this week's WOMYN poll. Or answer in the comments section below!

The now nationwide slogan, "Gay? Fine by Me." originated at Duke back in 2003. Do we, as Duke students, still feel this way today? The goal of WOMYN is to increase the visibility of queer women on this campus, and it is intrisically linked to this question. The presence of out, visible LGBTQ students on Duke's campus changes everything. This week's question is complex, because even after telling that first friend on the quad or finally outing yourself in the middle of a class, the process is continual and much larger than a single yes or no. Therefore, this week we decided to leave an open blank in the poll so that you can tell us your comments, ideas and personal experiences of coming out at Duke in addition to your vote. Surveymonkey.com is completely anonymous, but if you would like to include your name (and a brief note of your affiliation to Duke) in your response to have your quote appear in the magazine, we would definitely love that as well.

Want to view the results? Check out the UPB newstands when WOMYN is realesed on campus in late October!

Upper Image: National Coming Out Day logo created and donated by Keith Haring to the Human Rights Campaign.
Middle: Matt Lyons, Trinity '10 (pimc2cm@gmail.com)
Contact WOMYN by email (womynatduke@gmail.com) or by visiting our website.

Anonymous Posts (7.12.10-7.18.10)

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 :)

FDOC (appropriately a four-letter word that begins with F) is around the corner, y'all. This is, uh, extremely scary as a rising senior, and I have no idea where the time went. It seems like yesterday that I remember thinking this Aliza girl in Giles with the anti-Bush dry-erase board doodles was The Coolest Person. And to think now we procrastinate for hours on end together, scheming and talking about how big of a mistake our majors are.

#diarytalk

Also! My best bud Aaron sent this to me. This American Life is his favorite because duh, and this episode is all about the APA and the DSM description of homosexuality. Summer is all about having the time to listen to things like this!

#1

I wish I could tell her.

#2

I am a closeted lesbian woman at Duke. Now that wasn’t so hard, was it? It’s taken me months, years even, to be able to say that to myself. Coming out to myself was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do—well, until recently. Now that I’ve begun to accept myself for who I am, I’ve realized how much further I still have to go. Being in the closet is so much harder than I thought (‘duh’ right?). I should start by saying that I don’t “look” gay—see Risa’s recent post for an excellent explanation as to why that is an absurd idea :). But my point is that no one would meet me and have any reason to think I was anything but straight. That sucks. After working so hard to accept myself, it hurts so much to have to endure the comments people make unwittingly. Of course hateful words and derogatory remarks towards lesbians hurt, but worse, occasionally, is the assumption of heterosexuality. No, I do not want to talk about my dream wedding to my dream man (playing along with that game is especially difficult). No, I do not care to comment on whether I want a summer wedding or a winter wedding—I don’t have the same rights that you do. Of course Leonardo DiCaprio is a fox in Inception, but did you see Ellen Page?? Beautiful. I feel like every conversation I have, I have twice. Once out-loud, playing along with the hetero-assumptions my oblivious companion is making. And a second time in my head, where I get to come up with all kinds of witty retorts to assert my identity. Unfortunately, I’ve faced this particular challenge many times at my workplace this summer. Once, my [female] manager made an off-hand remark that, taken out of context, sounded like she was hitting on me. She immediately started laughing and falling all over herself explaining that she wasn’t hitting on me, and that she in fact ‘liked boys.’ I just wish I had the balls to say what I was thinking in my head, “don’t worry, you’re not my type anyways.” Another time, several of my coworkers were discussing previous bosses that they had who had a tendency to over share personal information. One of them, another one of my managers, brought up a lesbian couple who ran the restaurant she was working at. They had apparently offered to explain how two women were intimate with each other (no doubt a conversation that was brought up by inquiring minds). My manager told us the story with a disgusted tone of voice and a horrified look on her face—clearly expressing her discomfort with lesbian sexuality. I just sat there in silence, feeling my face getting hotter by the minute and probably turning bright red. I hate that I have to sit in silence when I am feeling so deeply offended. I hate that people don’t and can’t understand how hard I’ve worked to accept myself. Living in the closet has laid this almost unbearable weight on my shoulders that I worry will never go away. The prospect of coming out to my friends or family is just as terrifying. The scariest part is not that I think they won’t accept my homosexuality, but rather that they’ll feel like I’ve been lying to them. Which, I guess I have been.

The Absurd Hellishness of My First Semi-Disgrace, Pt. I

[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.]

She will probably read this somehow, eventually, and it hardly matters—she knows, and has for some forty-eight hours.

I slept in my car last night. I had been offered plenty of beds, but fell asleep drunkenly slouched all the way down in the front seat of my car, and never bothered to respond to my benefactor’s text message inviting me in.

The library computer has a sixty minute time limit for personal use, and I don’t even have a membership card. My tremulous fingers retard the fever pitch of my thoughts and it’s hard to sit upright on this wooden stool on account of my hummingbird heart.

She has known for some forty-eight hours, but the corporeality of my semi-disgrace only emerged yesterday with the text message that broke her stony silence after locking herself in her room and slinking around in the background while I entertained friends in my home for

brunch:

“You may as well have reaped out my heart & then spit on me.”

There’s an odd inversion process when a child moves out of the home, whence the child’s parents graduate from abstractions and turn into real human beings, for all their successes and failures and malaise and turpentine gradations of consciousness and abject depravity.

Preceding this transformation a parent is merely a vessel of self-service, an artificial processing mechanism whom you love unequivocally and who serves you French toast before high school,

even waking up hours before their own work day to do so.

I had hoped for a reciprocal process, but the text message tells me better: I am still mere progeny, reflecting upon my mother the triumphs and inadequacies of her own imparted will on my being. Though it was she who insidiously found her way into my gmail account and read long, stream-of-consciousness messages forming the rough draft of my imminent Bildungsroman, and multitudinous uncensored anecdotes of my sexual experiences over the course of the last year, I am the aggressor here, thrusting her headfirst into her own naiveté and veritable nightmare, manifested in the candid prose of her devilish creation of four-limbed fleshfulness.

“Only God can forgive you for what are doing (sic).”

This couldn’t have happened two years ago, I wouldn’t have written about it. “I hope you are able to be proud of me again, though I can’t stake my happiness in that possibility,” was my SMS response. I can’t, and I can no longer deign to placate her in a guise of superreligious contrition. God cannot forgive me, nor do I desire forgiveness.

My instinct is rationality without succumbing to condescension; I dismissed the thought and replaced the word ‘rational’ with ‘calm’ in my text message, “I love you and can talk to you calmly when you’re ready.”

Rationality is secularism-cum-treachery in her universe and, despite having studied contemporary Hebrew Bible literary critique and history in my past semester at Duke, I should spare my insistent earnestness about the nature of the Bible—how its divine infallibility is a farce, how it’s teachings of worth—if any—are excluded from its grossly antiquated moralizing; how its social artifice is cruel and unbecoming of modern humanity in ways no lesser than it’s haughtily dismissed distant cousin Islam; how it has no conception of sexuality and speaks in only discrete terms of sex.

No of these ruminations will pass from my lips into her ear, even were I to scream them vociferously and hand her a bold-faced transcription replete with dictionary definitions of terms.

Having finished brunch in the highest of spirits, I sprighted up the staircase into my bedroom to retrieve my laptop and show my friends pictures from a recent vocation. The laptop was gone, in its place a Bible in a black slipcase with the acronym “WWJD” emblazoned in rubber pressed letters.

The last time this happened, condoms had been discovered from their hiding place in my bookcase. They had been used for women, then. I was sixteen.

“I can’t even bring myself to tell your father, who is so proud of you. “

The third and final line of her text message, and sum total of communication with me in the past forty-eight hours, is the only line without a grammatical error, and for my ESL-mother, this means she has pondered it most heavily.

And yet, it is nearly immaterial for me. I had divorced myself from my father’s approval in middle school, when I decided that I would retreat to a false projected identity in his presence—a typical response I feel, for those of us deeply wounded by our father’s inabilities to emote.

The timing is unfortunate, if inevitable—I had first desired economic solvency, a pragmatic consideration that could not be exaggerated; though my present hellishness is unexpected it is concretely unsurprising—twelve years ago my eldest sister revealed her nascent lesbianism. I want gather my courage, and resist effrontery, and be graceful. I want to articulate that, unlike my sister, I will not internalize feelings of self-loathing and “conviction” and become purged in a penitent religious catharsis that has maimed my sister’s soul and leaves her at impossible odds with her own identity.

I sat in a brew house last night celebrating a friend’s birthday, in the presence of at least four men whom I love dearly. No amount of rhetorical self-esteem-instilling-therapy can replace their investment and confidence and love for me, and the solidarity of their faithfulness —in no uncertain terms—presents to me a reality far more palpable and esteemed than even the foulest lapses of the (supposedly unconditional) parent-child contract my parents can possibly impart.

I can’t end this post with any modicum of resolution, because I have still yet to converse with or look upon my mother or father in the flesh, and am currently cherishing my self-imposed defection from home and hearth and the reverie of being “on the road.”

—tbc ,

Eric Fürst

Elena Kagan, Lesbians, and Women's Sports Stereotypes

Back in May President Obama nominated current Solicitor General Elena Kagan to be the next United States Supreme Court Justice. Kagan, if confirmed by the Senate, will replace retiring Justice John Paul Stevens.

Following her nomination, the news reported several key findings about her background. In addition to mostly being unsure of her stance on many issues, since she has never presided as a judge over a case, the media reported that Kagan has never married, has no children, played softball and has short hair. Well, the later of those one has to discern for themselves, which isn’t hard to do given her photo accompanies many of the articles (as it should/would for any other candidate). Nonetheless, the information is out there: She is "unmarried." She is not a mom. She has short hair. She played softball.

I’m not sure what this is supposed to mean. I mean, I know what I’m supposed to conclude. The media wants me to think that she is gay (an obvious deduction…not). Call me stupid, but I don’t really understand why those facts lead to that conclusion. These details don’t reveal to me any information about to whom she is sexually attracted.

I can’t isolate her history with softball from the other information of being unmarried or having short hair to make any assertion about the role her athlete status has on this suspicion. If she hadn’t been involved with sports, but was unmarried, without kids and had short hair, the same rumors would likely be circulating. And, if she were Jennie Finch (two-time Softball Olympic medalist), who with long blonde hair, a husband and an infant epitomizes the feminine construct, playing softball would probably not be seen as a marker for her sexual orientation. But in Kagan’s case, when all of these forces combine, a lot of people will have a hard time divorcing them from her perceived sexual orientation.

The softball storyline came out just the day after Kagan was nominated when a photo splashed across the front pageof Tuesday May 11th’s Wall Street Journal. It almost seems to me that this softball thing is supposed to be the icing on the cake, convincing people she’s gay. Like, “If yesterday you thought she was a lesbian…congratulations, you’re right! She is! Because look, she played softball!”

I don’t have to tell the readers of this blog that whether one is an athlete or not doesn’t mean anything about one’s sexuality and the assertion that it does is absolutely ludicrous. What it does tell us, though, is that she’s a competitor (even if only in a friendly way), she understands the value of teamwork and…get this: SHE LIKES SPORTS. (Is this really such a revolutionary conclusion?) Let’s not forget that Obama is a big basketball fan (he even attended the Duke-Georgetown men’s basketball game in January), but that only makes him “cool.” [sigh; double standards.]

I don’t know what to make of the fact that Kagan played other sports, yet softball was the one the media really latched onto. While completing graduate school at Oxford, Kagan was a coxswain (the small person who functions like the coach in rowing). She also played in pickup basketball games while clerking for the Supreme Court. What does it mean, though, that both of these other experiences were largely ignored in favor of softball? Does coxing pose less of a threat to patriarchy and therefore isn’t deemed to be as unfeminine because it’s not a physically exerting task? After all, the coxswain role is more analytical than anything else. But what about basketball? The stereotypes and stigmas surrounding women in basketball can be pretty harsh. Is something about softball “more gay?” [Aside: I don’t really believe in the construction of some things being ‘gay things.’ I use this language merely because I’m trying to understand how everyone else perceives different activities.]

In any case, this scenario is merely another example of the frequently tense relationship between the gay community and women’s sport. There is this stereotype which exists and like most stereotypes, there is some truth to it. By that I mean, some gay women have and continue to play sports. The problem is that this stereotype is seen as “damaging.” And I can't really argue with that on a practical level. In a homophobic culture (which ours tends to be), things associated with the LGBT community are negatively affected (even if they shouldn't be). This stigma is especially problematic when, like women's sports, the institution requires money to function and therefore relies on a capitalistic business model. It's equally problematic when the individuals affiliated with this institution feel the need to "protect" their image. What ends up happening as a result of this, though, is that the “higher ups” in women’s sport and many participating athletes seem to deny that gay women participate in athletics--which is just bad all around.

Because the truth is: some gay women play sports. Just like some straight women play sports. Some bi women play sports. Some transwomen play sports. Some tall women play sports. And some short women. And some brunettes. And blondes. And Protestants. And Catholics. And Jews. And Muslims. And...well, you get the picture.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that...I can't wait for the day when mainstream media and the rest of society finally come to understand that you can’t extrapolate anything about someone’s sexual orientation based on athletic preferences.

[For the record, Elena Kagan identifies as straight.]

Womyn Wednesday!

WOMYN magazine is excited to announce that we will be featuring polls from our community in the magazine! We want to hear what you have to say about LGBT issues, queer women, Duke, and a combination of the three! To this end, we're going to post a weekly poll here on the blog so that we hear everyone's voice in the magazine. The general goal of WOMYN magazine is to increase the visiblity of queer women on this campus, and we can't think of a better way to reach our community and beyond than the BDU blog. A special thank-you to Chris Perry, the editor of the BDU blog, who is letting us post a weekly poll!

Our first WOMYN poll is:

Who is your favorite out, queer, woman-identified celebrity role-model?

Click here to take the first WOMYN poll.

Want to view the results? Check out the UPB newstands when WOMYN is realesed on campus in late October!

Why are there so many options to choose from? The honest truth is that, we (Jack, Jess McD., Summer, Brandy, and Michelle) had difficulty providing just the 11 names (well, its technically 12, unless you want to count Tegan and Sarah as a unit). At one point we had a list of 15-16 women. It was actually a pretty powerful exercise to work on and realize the countless LGBTQ-identified women who have so profoundly impacted our culture. We picked 11 names but there are so many others that we're missing, so we also added a "submit your own" field if you have a different favorite.

And don't forget - submissions are now being accepted for the magazine! Click here to look at some ideas of what to submit. (Remember, submissions are rolling, which means that you have a better chance of getting your piece published if you send it in earlier, and it's less work for us!) Contact WOMYN by emailing us (womynatduke@gmail.com) or by visiting our website.

Anonymous Posts (7.5.10-7.11.10)

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 :)

Before he left, Chris Purcell made me the administrator for the Duke Center for LGBT Life Facebook page. This is a WEIGHTY, overwhelming position that I nonetheless humbly accept. I'm down.

But currently there are only 139 fans? Huh, Community? Let's put this in perspective:

Sarah Palin: 1,858,320 fans

Toby Keith: 342,783 fans

Homework: 35,461 fans

UNC Chapel Hill: 39,006 fans

Carpe Noctem Quarterly: 128 fans

Get it? You get it. We can all do better. Join here.

Aaand anonymous posts, y'all.

#1

"Bilakoro" - In the Wolof language of West Africa, it literally means un-purified but has come to be a slur for uncircumcised women. Some of the reasons for perpetuating the practice of female genital mutilation is the belief that being a "bilakoro" is incompatible with being clean and healthy, feminine and beautiful, modern and sexually healthy.

I didn't really understand this train of thought, but circumcision (both for males and females) has been a contentious issue for me all my life. I've become so comfortable, almost proud, of being an uncircumcised male, realizing once I became sexually active that I was in the minority among American white males.

That being said, in every sexual encounter I've had with a circumcised male, there has been quite a little outward surprise with my uncut penis. It never really had an effect on me, but last week, I had a one-night stand with an (uncircumcised) male who, hopefully jokingly, expressed disgust and racial superiority about circumcision. He made it seem as if uncircumcised penises only belonged on men of color, that he was somehow better because of his cut penis. He said it was dirty and weird.

Now, I'm not trying to say that I know what it feels like to be an un-mutilated woman in a society where FGM is the norm and I'm not trying to make a direct comparison between FGM and male circumcision performed by an American doctor (at least not today), but for that moment and in the days since I felt like a bilakoro. A part of my body that I was comfortable with, even proud of, became stigmatized and racialized.

This is the only time something like this has ever happened to me, and I can only hope that it is uncommon, but I just can't believe that such a backwards way of thinking can still exist among seemingly smart, "with-it", college-educated men.

#2

Exciting News!!! (link)

#3

i wonder if it's a good idea to date a woman on a different, but close, campus? Keeping things in the Duke, State, UNC triangle i mean. hmm... thoughts?

#4

What does Pride mean to you?

Two weeks ago, a group of my friends and I went to our very first LGBT pride parade in New York City. GAH! Exciting!!! Well, to be honest, we really didn't know what to expect. Decked out in our rainbow flags and our Duke Love=Love shirts, we were hoping for an amazing time. We were ready to be blown away by the supposed craziness.

If I had to sum up Pride in one word, I would definitely pick celebratory. I loved seeing members of our community so excited and happy to be exactly who they are. I think everyone should go to Pride at least once, if only to see that strong sense-of-self and happiness. It was very powerful to be a witness to that kind of self-confidence.

A quick note to my fellow Pride virgins reading this: cheer loudly. You’ll get more attention. My friend Cynthia and I started going pretty crazy about halfway through the march, and we were blessed with Mardi Gras beads in all colors of the rainbow, countless LGBT stickers (my favorite was “God made me a Lesbian”), a view of someone’s undergarments (well, you know), and one woman who was intent on drenching us with her super soaker. (Twice.)

I think the thing that surprised me the most about Pride was what got my attention. I really enjoyed watching SAGE, a LGBT advocacy group for elderly members of our community. (See picture, bottom right.) Some of these participants looked to be about 80 years old, and as they walked by, I wondered how different of an environment they had when they were coming out. Fifty years ago, could they have even fathomed the march we were having right now? Did they even have a name for some of the LGBT labels that are so commonplace today? (Was “queer” still derogatory?) What relationships and loves did they have in their lives-and did society let them flourish? Or did they have to lose them because they weren’t born in the time that we were? I had so many questions for them that I didn’t have the time to ask, so I just went crazy cheering for them and waved our rainbow flag until they smiled back.

I also found myself getting really excited to see all of the PFLAG groups at Pride. (PFLAG chapters were actually the most prevalent group at the parade!) One young man from PFLAG Long Island held a sign that said, “I’m walking for my two moms”, and another held a sign that said “We love our lesbian daughter”. Wow-I'm proud of them.

But if there is one thing about Pride that I will never forget, it was the people I shared it with. I have this great memory of standing on the side of 5^th avenue, watching parade floats and groups move past me, and then stopping to look to my left and right on the sidewalk. I see 7-8 of some of my closest friends at Duke, many of whom are not LGBT. In fact, most of these friends identify as straight. And yet, they are here. I am surrounded by people who support our community so much, that they drove all the way up to New York City (and took a hellish Chinatown bus back), just to say, “Yes, you should be proud!”

I think Pride will mean something different to everybody-there will be parts that speak to you, and parts that do not. We cannot relate to everything. But I think the universal feeling I received at Pride was acceptance. Acceptance for exactly who you are-LGBT or straight. So I guess that was the best thing about Pride. To see such a historically marginalized community be so loved, so supported, and of course, so proud. I saw our community on fire with pride that weekend, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen us in a better light.

[Note: I've heard a lot of different perspectives on Pride, and they're all entirely valid and worth bringing up! I'd love to hear your ideas about LGBT Pride and what it means to you.]

Anonymous Posts (6.28.10-7.4.10)

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 :)

I am not one for bragging, but this weekend I saw John, Aliza, LC and J-Block while I was briefly home. This was an awesome time, and is the sort of thing that makes me superexcited to get back on campus.

Don't forget Womyn is now taking submissions, y'all.

Also know this. And read this.

And comment on our anonymous post! (And send one in yourself :) )

#1

I just wish other women on this campus would stay open to the idea of being with another woman.

Womyn magazine now accepting submissions!

What is it like to be a queer woman at Duke? Let's talk about it!

Coming this fall, WOMYN, a brand new undergraduate publication published by and for LGBTQ-identified women and their allies at Duke University will hit the stands.

Why are we so excited about today specifically? Starting TODAY, Womyn magazine is now accepting submissions! We really encourage everyone-straight and LGBTQ- to submit to Womyn in order to include a diverse group of experiences of queer women and their allies!

Why WOMYN? Our goal is to promote a sense of community and validation of queer women at Duke University by reaffirming their experiences as an integral part of student life. We hope to encourage dialogue of queer women’s issues on campus and foster a sense of community and interaction between queer women themselves and to challenge perceptions of the Duke woman.

Who can submit? Any Duke University undergraduate or graduate student, staff or faculty member! All are welcome - (straight-allied or LGBTQ)- to submit!!

What submissions will be accepted? Any piece that has a queer woman’s focus will be considered for the magazine!

Interested? For more information, along with how to submit a piece, check out the website and facebook group. Have a question? Feel free to contact Womyn: womynatduke@gmail.com.

Ready to change campus? Let's make queer women an integral part of Duke!

-Megan Weinand, Jack Grote, Summer Puente, and the Womyn Review Board team.

[Note: Today, July 1st, submissions for Womyn are officially open!! We'd like to get the word out!! The above BDU blog post can be used as a list serv annoucement. We need your help in promoting the magazine! Sending this email out to any listserv that you are a part of helps get our publication information to more individuals! Let's do this!]

Coming Out to Nana

In the entry I wrote on January 14th, 2010, I told a horrible story about a conversation I had with one of my grandmothers where she mentioned damnation to all gays. Two days ago, on Thursday (I am writing this on Saturday), I called her up. As context I want to say that we're not too close, mostly based on a rough relationship with my mother. So I was catching up with her on the phone, and I told her all about moving off campus and how great life is etc etc.

Then there was the perfect window to out myself.

"So, are you seeing anyone?"

AHHHHHHHH. BREATHE. BREATHE. It's okay. She won't hate you.

"Yes." (Ughhh cop out!)

"What's he do?"

"Actually, Nana, I'm dating a female."

I did it. The whole time, I could feel my heart pounding out of my chest. Maybe it wasn't a radical type of honesty since I had to be led by questions, but I didn't avert and I didn't lie. Then I proceeded to tell her all about Hilary.

I could sense her pauses between sentences getting longer and longer, she was clearly choosing her words carefully. She sounded sad. But then she said, "All I want is for you to be happy." Even if that's not totally true, she's being a trooper and I appreciate her effort so much. She talked about how angry and depressed I was six months ago and how she can really feel the changes I've made and how well I'm doing.

So the people in my family who know: My dad, mom, one nana, Ashleigh (my sister) and Brock (my brother). After telling this nana, I wouldn't be surprised if word got around quick to that side of the family. But I'm so much closer to my dad's side. I've got another set of grandparents, aunts and uncles… What's keeping me from telling them about my great news and joy?

I've spent several occasions (probably amounting up to hours at this point) talking to Megan about this. She encouraged me to tell my family in person because it's so much more intimate. I get that, I definitely do. But if the next chance I get to go home is in December, then it will have been a year since I've seen them, and a year since I've been with Hilary. It's already been six months.

And I figure since telling the first nana was the most terrifying, it can't be all that bad. And on a side note, what's more important, telling them I'm gay? Or telling them I'm in a gay relationship? OR telling them I live with my partner?!

I feel like I'm moving too quickly along in my life to exclude them much longer, otherwise I will be like a stranger living a double life, and that sure as hell isn't happening again.

Thus, I find myself empathizing with so many of you, and whose stories I've collected or heard.

Anonymous Posts (6.21.10-6.27.10)

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 post is already superlate, so I'm not going to delay much longer. Hope everyone in The City had a great time at Pride last weekend - I know that The Entire Community was together and I'm really upset/jealous I wasn't there. I miss y'all trillions.

#1

She or he or whatever they want to be

It’s concerning to you, I can see

Maybe tomorrow they’ll want to express

More freely

And you’ll stare

And wonder why they’re in a tie

When just yesterday

They were in a dress and isn’t

It a mess?

He or she or whatever they need to be

It’s puzzling you, I can already see

But dear the jokes on you

When your face is bent

In confusion

At the sight of them

In a tie and dress and isn’t

It a bigger mess?

You are she, you are he,

You will hold the hand of what you see

As the opposite of what you were

Born to be,

Male parts bind you to your tie

Female parts bind you to

Your dress

And if that’s where you find happiness

I wish you all the best

While your judging eyes

And thoughts make

You

The biggest mess

I'm Coming Out... Again???

So, I've been a bit MIA on the blog for a while but with good reason. I've been working at Duke this summer doing a lot of the behind the scenes work helping to organize all the summer camps like TIP (Yeah, I'm looking at you, Brandy! :D ) I've gone back and forth about writing about this for a while but something happened recently to seal my decision.

Anyway, I work in a small office with 5 other people. They're all really great to work with and I'm pretty good friends with one of the other student workers. So I felt moderately at ease around them. That is, until one of my co-workers asked the question: Is he gay? Funny thing is, he was asking me if I thought one of our supervisors was gay despite him having a wife and children.

I honestly do not remember how I answered him. I was too caught up in the thought that maybe he was homophobic or thought gay people were destined to hell. Why was he so concerned about our supervisor's private life? The little bubble of safety I once felt now lay shattered on the ground around me. I heard a faint laughter, something mocking me: "You thought you were safe. You were wrong. *Insert evil snicker*" I panicked. I made up some excuse to leave and came back to my room. Was I going to have to come out again? Wasn't the first time enough? Is it NECESSARY that I come out? Why should I have to? But I decided to let it go and just forget about it. I was probably just overreacting anyway.

A few days ago, a different co-worker began telling me about a party his fraternity was going to throw at their off-campus house. In his attempt to win over my RSVP, he mentioned the amounts of drinks there would be and how a friend of his was going to bring "a ton of hot dancer chicks from the American Dance Festival." I looked at him and laughed. Little did he know how pathetic his attempt to make me want to go to his party only made me want to go less. Don't get me wrong. I love a good party just as much as the next guy, but by 1) using women as his selling point which infuriated me to no end and 2) thinking I was some hormone-driven dog, I had no problem turning down his offer. But then, he did something I didn't expect: "Why not?"

Oh no. I'm going to have to do it again. I'm going to have to come out to him, aren't I? Just like they did the first time I tried to come out to my friends, the words formed a simple sentence in my mind, traveled down to my lips, but couldn't pass them. If I could have turned red with anxiety, I would have. I hurriedly made up some half-baked excuse about wanting to get some rest and just relax. He left me alone. Crisis averted, right?

Temporarily, yes. But I just can't shake it. Why did I have so much trouble proclaiming something that I say so often now, something that I'm proud of? Am I still afraid of the sideways glances and evil glares? Am I terrified of the words he'll say? Do I think he'll look at me any differently? Am I really as open and proud of who I am as I'd like myself to believe? Is it just because of the people I usually surround myself with, ones that are accepting and loving and caring and open? This guy certainly isn't a person that I would normally hang out with on a regular basis. I mean, there's nothing wrong with him but it's just a mismatch of personalities and interests.

Something else struck me: I'm so worried about him judging and stereotyping me, but what if I'm doing the exact same thing to him? Could I possibly be going through this struggle because I'm stereotyping him to say what I would expect someone like him to say? Am I causing myself anxiety about being stereotyped because of my own stereotypes?

Answer: I am.

It's funny, you know. I always expect people to make leaps and bounds towards forgetting stereotypes and being more open-minded but, as evidenced by this, I still have my own progress to make in stereotyping. Part of me just wants to come out with it (pun only slightly intended) and just say I'm gay. But another part of me is mortified. I have to work with these people for the rest of the summer. What if things get awkward? Will our work dynamic suffer? On the other hand, what if there's absolutely no problem with it at all? Gah! I'm giving myself a headache going around and around in circles like this. I give up. Should I come out (with a proper parade and floats and rainbows, just kidding... sort of) or is there really no need to?

Any suggestions?

Change of Scenery

I moved in with my partner.

For those of you who aren't my Facebook friends and can't follow my insane joy and random photos of my Durham summer adventures…let me backtrack.

I tested the waters on a few friends first…"I think I might move in with Hilary…" and tried to gauge people's reactions. Overall, the responses were uncertain, or trying to be polite, some were nervous. I don't blame any of you--the pervasive hook-up culture at Duke and unknown world of Durham and its queers can be a cloud of impenetrable-ness. Then came the next phase…"We've been looking for a place…," then finally, "WE SIGNED A LEASE TODAY!"

The reactions didn't change much. I got the occasional, "So now we REALLY won't see you." (coughChrisPerrycough)

The Duke campus isn't bliss for all of us. In my case, I'm not talking about hate speech or feeling unwelcome on campus because of the general student body versus my queerness. I'm talking about class and I'm talking about ethnicity. On the surface, I've got white skin and blue eyes. I blend in okay unless I'm intentionally trying not to (which has been more of the case lately). But I'm Mexican. I was raised Mexican. No, I don't have the best Spanish in the world, but I come from a working class neighborhood of Mexicans. That's what I know, and what I love.

I try not to make everything about money, or judge folks on their privilege. We're all born into different circumstances and I love everyone in the LGBT community for different reasons. But for me and my mental health, I need folks who can commiserate with me a bit more on financial issues.

Speeding up to the last month, I feel like I've finally accomplished that.

For those of you who have kept up with my summer adventures, I moved off campus into a house of four other Durhamite women, including my partner. We've got three cats, a dog, and a bird (ridiculous, I know). Everyone in the house is partnered…and we've become quite social. So the house is a bit of a zoo. But a lovely home we've christened 'Lockamy.' (To discover why this name was picked, you'd have to come over, so make plans to visit me in the fall!)

My friend Anthony and I have also been fond of calling the place 'Estrogenhaus.'

Recently, I've been laughing so much. Hysterics from tickling, giggles from baking in my massive kitchen, joy from the animals doing silly things. So much happiness. I feel like the most fortunate woman. But I wanted to write to you all today because I know what the struggle feels like. I want to honor and celebrate the good times, but the fight through mental health and reducing isolation can be a lonely one.

I hope to open my house to you all. I know what staying on campus too long does to me. The effects are probably different for some folks, and I know plenty of students that love the campus and never see any reason to leave. But there is so much greatness in Durham, there are so many good people, and I urge you to explore it with me next year.

The Pinhook has recently started having nights that are open to 18+ and they have some very fun events, we will most definitely have weekend brunches at my house, and hopefully some WLW events. I'm not trying to make you vom with my love, I'm just saying that it's been a three year struggle for me (so for any first years reading this, if it gets bad for you, don't wait for it to get worse! Come have cookies and play with my kitten), and I want to help any part of my community that I can.

Also, I'm currently in the airport on my way to a language immersion program, so I won't be in touch for the next 7 weeks since I'm not allowed to do anything in English. Maybe I'll move this blog into the bilingual realm and post a Spanish entry. ^_^

Please have a great summer, I can't wait to see all of your beautiful faces in the fall!

PS. A bunch of my friends who are in a Durham arts collective (DURTY) are planning a music festival in August. I believe the 28th is the tentative planned date. I know lots of you will be here by then and it should be a huge party with tons of local kids and bands. Please come! It will be a great opportunity to begin building bridges between Durham kids and Duke kids!

"I can’t recall a recent situation which has made me feel like these words did."

[Ed. Note: Andrea Patiño Contreras, an awesome friend and huge ally, sent this to me to be posted on the blog. We all pretty much knew she was The Greatest already, but it's officialer now? Right? I think that works. Anyhow, sweet post! Thanks for sharing!]

I am currently in Accra, Ghana, studying Cultural Anthropology and travelling around. Over the past week I have been staying at a really nice host family and though transitioning to Ghanaian life from American and Colombian lifestyles has been a little hard, I have finally been able to get used to a lot of the new things I have encountered. Sunday morning, however, I had a very upsetting experience that I thought I wanted to share with all of you.

My host mom, Aunt Vic, is a wonderful old lady. She is very (very) religious and as the head of the house, there are many practices in the house that involve praying, going to church, studying the Bible etc. I am not entirely sure what her denomination is, but it is some sort of Christian charismatic something. I knew that they go to church every Sunday, and I also knew (as I had been told by the other exchange students staying here) that Sunday church, plus school, plus Bible study, would take up to four hours. My roommate and I (none of us particularly religious) had decided we wanted to go to church because we knew it was important for the family and because we were, to a certain, extent expected to do so.

When we arrived we were guided into a crowded room where we sat on our own. The rest of the family members were scattered all over the room. I had known about this service for some days now and I had been preparing myself to be able to be there for four hours and to deal with a lot of things that I knew could upset me. Nonetheless, I was completely willing to see what it was like and I went in with my most open mind.

Though I was feeling absolutely uncomfortable at the beginning, after an hour of singing and dancing to cool-sounding songs about God and Jesus, I started to give in and try to dance and cope with what was going on around me. By then I was happy and thinking to myself what a great time these people have compared to the boring and stiff (no offense) Catholic services I had grown up with. This was a happy party.

However, as the sermon started things started to change. Though I knew I was going to be told that sex is a sin and all that, I wasn’t ready to hear that I should “shut down all the sinful people I know from my life, like those who are lesbians, or homosexuals, or drunks”. When I heard that I felt that my heart was about to explode a little and that I got really red and rolled my eyes and shook my head. I can’t recall a recent situation which has made me feel like these words did. I wanted to stand up and leave but I didn’t want to be a shame to my host family or be rude, especially in a place where I was one of the three white people in the room (an interesting point here as I am considered to be “white” here, while in the U.S. I am never seen as white but Hispanic). Anyways, it felt really bad, but I stayed listening to the rest of the sermon which by then was feeling like pure crap (again, no offense).

Half an hour later, the offering time came. I was too enraged and of course, I would never give money to a place that promotes intolerance and triggers discrimination and damages society in the way in which this sermon was doing it. However, as the only white people in the room we were easily pointed at and we were expected to give something. I just sat there with my roommate and pretended to be indifferent, but people around us were asking and demanding money. Then the minister looked straight into my eyes and asked me where my offering was, and people in the two rows in front me turned around asking the same question. I wasn’t going to give money. Instead of saying I didn’t have any I told the woman in front of me I simply didn’t have an envelope (which all the others were using to put their money in). Bad idea! They brought me one of course. I hid it in my purse and pretended to forget, but ten minutes later the people gossiping in the front row asked me for it.

When I gave it (1 GCD = less than 1 dollar) I simply wanted to cry. I stood there and my eyes got so watery. I didn’t want people around me to think that I was actually inspired by all this. I felt that I completely betrayed myself, all my friends and people I love who support and who are part of the LGBT community. It really felt awful and I was so angry at myself for not being able to say no. There was so much pressure in the church though, but I still think that that is not an excuse for not standing on my feet and stand for my principles. I know it was sort of my small incident, but it really hit me hard. I thought though, that sharing it with you all would be the best way of redeeming myself.

---

Hillary Clinton Should Deliver All of Obama's LGBT Speeches and Also This Other Guy, Who is a Real Person In Real Life: Ok, so today there was this big event at the White House for LGBT Pride Month. The audience was mostly local and state-level advocates (so yes, I was too important and BIG TIME to be invited), and Hil gave this badass speech. She makes incrimental change and legislation on duh issues sound so OK! Seriously, though, kind of wish she was in the Oval Office right now.


Sometimes, though, we meet people who are so far from The Best. They are pretty much the opposite of The Best. But they are real people, somehow, that are living in real life right now. This "ex-gay" (gay) guy is one of those people, and his video has been making the blog rounds today and is very LOL.


Top 10 Lines From This Video:

#1-10: All of the lines.

When he started reaching (?) at 3:04 I was kind of convinced that this was a huge joke because look at the reaching thing he does at 3:04. But it is real, and the website checks out. Thank you, Right!

Anonymous Posts (6.14.10-6.20.10)

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 :)

What an epic weekend, y'all. Michelle and I drove down to Duke to pay our respects say goodbye to Chris Purcell on his last day. As depressing as this may be, though, it was an awesome trip and I saw Everybody That I Need To See In My Life Right Now. Sitting around the Center with Janie, Megan, Jack, Chris, Justin, Summer, Peg and Mish was probably one of the best parts of my summer so far. I know I've said it before, but I'm SO excited for this Community next semester. Especially since I've resolved that We are going to spend every weekend at Summer's place after excursions to pick various fruits (no pun intended (pun intended)). As JH said, we should do more "beautiful things" in our lives.

I also saw the incomparable co-presidents of UNC's GLBTSA, Billy Kluttz and Alex Kilkka. The LGBT retreat dates have been set for the fall, and it sounds like it might top last year's? Maybe? That would be a very difficult thing to do and we cannot really expect that, considering last year was The Greatest Time. So many hugs. But it really does seem that we'll see unprecedented collaboration among the Triangle schools' (and maybe more!) LGBT communities. Let's do this, Everybody.

In other news, Womyn, Duke's new queer women magazine, is taking applications this week for their review board. The application can be downloaded here, and We should all fill it out. Also, actual written submissions will be accepted beginning July 1st. Think they'll accept a sonnet about Summer Puente? Because I'm sort of banking on it.

Okokok. Anonymous posts.

#1
I love Pride.
It's the only time,space, place where I feel COMPLETELY accepted, loved, embraced. And there's so much overflowing community it's overwhelming. But in an amazing way.

On another note, I think it's the only time when people read me as queer. Which is so rare I'm not used ot it. that I don't know how I feel about it..proud, but a little disoriented? Maybe I should wear a rainbow pin or bracelet to try it out how it feels in the real world? Or is that totally unnecessary to try out?...

#2
"Call me wen u can."

That's all my sister's text said. She has never asked me to call her. She always tries to minimize the contact between us, seeing as though our relationship is anything but friendly.

"She knows."

That's what went through my mind. Repeatedly. Relentlessly. I was an emotional mess and I didn't know what I was going to do. Oddly enough, the fact that I didn't know what to do is a big step from where I was before coming to Duke. Had it been last year, before my freshman year started, I would have prepared myself to outright deny anything that would label me as being gay. Not today. I actually considered just giving in and finally letting go of the secret that has bound and silenced me for eighteen years.

While putting off the inevitable, I thought about everything that could happen. Being kicked out, being rejected by every single family member, losing those I love. These situations are the most extreme; I have no substantial proof to neither quell nor confirm these outcomes. But being at Duke has changed me. I have grown tired of the facade I wear back at home. Here at Duke I don't have to pay attention to every single detail, details that could somehow lead to suspicion, suspicions that could lead to accusations. I have weighed the pros and cons in regards to coming out. Unfortunately, for many reasons, legitimate or not, I decided against coming out this summer. Call it cowardice, call it fear, call it insecurity. Heck, maybe those are accurate, but I do know that I am not quite ready yet. But I digress.

After failing to calm myself I managed to call my sister. Each second waiting for her to answer the phone allowed my mind to think of every negative outcome. I felt relieved after listening to her voicemail message, but I knew it wasn't over. A couple minutes later she called me back and I asked myself I could answer. I did. Long story short, it had nothing to do with me being gay. You'd think I let out a huge sigh of relief and laughed about it after hanging up. I didn't. In fact, I felt even worse. The reasons? I thought about how unfair society is. How people live their lives tormented by a secret. Why people even have to go through all this. This story may or may not have significance, but I'll share it anyways. I wish I didn't have to post it as an anon, but it's best that way.

I couldn't bring myself to hit done. Rob. Vague enough for the world outside of Duke, but personal enough for my community. Now I can hit done.

#3
I went back and forth debating whether or not to send this anonymous post in, but in the end I figure I might as well- I've GOT to get these thoughts out!! So i'm taking summer school at UNC, and sometimes i'll see other lesbians around campus. Well, I think they're gay but of course I can't be 100% sure. :) anyways, I really wanted to meet someone this summer. I have so much extra time on my hands and I'd love to just take someone out to dinner or something, maybe start something up, but i have no CLUE how to go about meeting someone.

argh, frustration.

alrighty, done venting for now :)

Yeah, but it IS about sex.

There’s something that’s been bothering me for a while about homophobia.

It gets mentioned here and there in writings—someone notices how inappropriate it is that as soon as people think of same-sex couples, they picture two guys getting in on and are immediately disgusted, whereas with straight people, that’s not the case.

I’ve always been careful to make a distinction between homosexuality itself and any particular sex act. Being Catholic, I have a hard time with the “love the sinner, hate the sin” mantra, but it helps me keep the two apart—something I think more people need to do.

See, it shouldn’t matter, but there’s a huge difference between being gay and having sex with people of the same gender. They can’t be the same thing because they’re not even in the same category. Gay is an adjective, a descriptor, something that people might happen to be. And sexual activity is none of anyone’s business. That’s it. Case closed.

The video posted on the blog a few weeks ago about homophobia and anti-gay violence in Uganda was deeply disturbing. But it bothered me primarily because the tactics being used by these politicians and religious leaders are awfully misleading. Whether or not the activities like “eating poo-poo” in gross-out videos are common among the community is none of anyone’s business. The problem is, Uganda is debating sex when it thinks it’s debating homosexuality. If the law is against homosexuals, then they need to be talking about homosexuality, not sex, and those videos have no place in such an argument.

Now let’s talk about progress. Stateside, the issue of whether homosexuality is moral or immoral, largely, doesn’t matter. All reasonably reasonable people agree that there’s no issue there (I mean, sure, this is contentious, but my point assumes this, so if you have issues here, let me know, but I’m moving on). But if people don’t find being gay problematic, then what they really find problematic is gay sex—and it strikes me as though if people find this problematic, it tells me two things about them: [one], that they’re really breaching the privacy of gay couples every time they think about the issue (weird, isn’t it?) and/or [two], that there’s really an unhealthy level of obsession with gay sex, even among the homophobes. People say that homosexuality is the issue, not sex. But I don’t agree. If you have a problem with The Gays (and Lesbians and Bisexuals and the Queer and Transgendered communities), it’s because you’re violating our privacy by picturing us in bed together (or, God forgive your dirty mind, in bed with you).

If you don’t like it, don’t think about it. Pretty simple solution. If you can’t do that, then figure out what makes you so obsessed with gay sex and get past it. Homosexuality != (does not equal!) gay sex. It’s a fact. It’s no business of anyone’s whether I’m sexually active or not. If I have a boyfriend, is it reasonable to assume we’re having sex? Well, no, but we don’t think about these things with straight couples. Why should we for gay ones? It just doesn’t matter, folks! Move along!

Everyone agrees that friendship, intimacy, and love are all pretty good things, regardless of gender. So, homophobes (especially the ones in my extended family), just honor me this request. When you fondle, kiss, or otherwise show affection in public, I think it’s great. I am an enormous fan of PDA and, generally, seeing examples of love in the world. But I do not, and will not, picture you having sex. It doesn’t (and shouldn’t) happen. When I see your babies, I don’t picture you conceiving them. All I ask is that you do the same for me.

If you find yourself disgusted by thoughts of gay couples, then get your prying mind out of the bedroom and expand your definitions of love.

(note: I just realized I posted this as BDU, rather than my account. I’ve already multi-linked here, so I can’t change that now, but know that this post comes from/represents Matt Lyons and not Blue Devils United)

Make Gays Marry

Sort of a win-win.

For people who have hearts, gays could marry.

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

Glad for GLAD

I have a serious academic interest in sport and in this column I’ll be highlighting current events, sharing resources, reflecting on complex issues and sharing athlete’s stories among other things. For more about me, you can read my first post, here. Please feel free to email me with thoughts or if you come across something you’d like me to include on the blog.

When I started blogging I mentioned that I would be covering interesting stories and sharing resources. I haven’t done very much of the former yet, but I’d like to take this post to promote a survey sponsored by the Gay & Lesbian Advocates & Defenders (GLAD).

An organization that fights legal battles against discriminations based on orientation, HIV status and gender identity and expression, last year GLAD launched an effort against homophobia and transphobia in sport. On October 2, 2009, GLAD issued the following statement about their recent undertaking: “To determine how we can best address homophobia and transphobia in sports, GLAD is researching the ways in which anti-gay and anti-transgender attitudes affect LGBT athletes and coaches.”

To do this, they’re collecting the stories and experiences of anybody currently or formerly associated with any sport at any level—rec, high school, college, pro, athlete, coach, family member or friend of an athlete. The hope is that these stories will illuminate the obstacles keeping LGBTQ-identified individuals from participating, having success or gaining positive experiences in sport. Of course, they’re also optimistic about the current climate on teams and ask for stories of positive experiences as well.

Though there are already several [read: too many] well documented cases of homophobia in sport violating the rights of individuals (such cases will be highlighted in future blogs), I believe that this is the right first step for GLAD to take. For every case which is fought in the courtroom (or settled out of it), far too many instances of homophobia and transphobia in sport are never brought to light. When the environment is toxic, most people (especially children and teens) will just stop playing the sport, rather than take action. And, seriously, who can blame them?

This survey will help to identify common themes among our experiences. How do homophobia and transphobia manifest themselves? What’s it look like in the locker room? During practice? During formal competition? During travel? Is it coming from the coach? The parents? The players/teammates? How are LGBTQ-identified coaches or administrators in sport affected differently than the athletes themselves? Is it in negative recruiting practices? Is it jokes or gossip from their athletes or colleagues? How does the environment change at each level (rec vs. high school vs. college, varsity vs. club vs intramural)?

I’ve been involved with sports for a long time and in a lot of different ways. As such, I’ve played for LGBTQ-identified and straight coaches and I’ve had LGBTQ-identified and straight teammates. I’ve witnessed really positive scenarios and not so positive incidents. In writing his personal story of being a gay athlete, Jamal Brown “look[s] forward to a day when the challenges LGBT athletes face come from competition, and not from teammates.” And so do I.

I would encourage every reader of this blog to take the time to fill out the survey and share your stories. Furthermore, I invite you to share your story (anonymously or not) in the comments section below. Share with GLAD and with us what your experiences have been, so we can all be aware and so that together we can team up to make athletic spaces safe, inclusive and embracing of everyone.

[Author’s note: Thanks for allowing me to vary the content of my columns. I often find myself having thoughts that I want to write about for the blog. Though several of my most recent posts have not been sports centered, LGBT Issues in Sport continue to be in the front of my mind as I go through every day. I’m excited to devote my next few entries solely to these topics.]

Where Have All the Role Models Gone??

Growing up, I knew zero gay people. I met my first gay person when I was a junior in high school (the same year I came out, coincidence???---ha no). My guidance counselor was an out gay male and I was extremely fortunate to have a strong and supportive, out, gay male mentor in my adolescence. Through his guidance, I was never scared walking through the halls, hearing the taunts and the threats. I knew that if he could do the same, that I could as well. He introduced me to the book Mama's Boy, Preacher's Son by Kevin Jennings, an amazing LGBT activist, leader, educator and alumnus of my high school who showed me that despite my location, I can achieve anything I want to and that my sexuality is not a deterrent to my future.

Luckily, in the years since I was a teenager struggling with my sexuality there has been a plethora of celebrities who have come out. Celebrities are a great venue for LGBT youth to see mentors who are just like them, when many grow up without any positive LGBT role models. Nowadays, young gay men can look to these people as examples of people who have stood up for what they believe in and were never afraid to be who they were. Oh wait, none of them actually do this.

Where was the public outcry from T. R. Knight when he was verbally harassed for his sexual orientation by a coworker on Grey's Anatomy. Sure, he made a couple statements, but they were all done in a passive way that never showed that he was sticking up for himself. He was presented with an opportunity to show young gay men that it is not acceptable for someone to call you a faggot and that you can stand up for yourself. Instead, he gave the message that silence and acceptance is the better route to go.

Neil Patrick Harris has been with his current boyfriend for nearly 6 years. However, when Proposition 8 was placed on the ballot, where was he? With his star power and presumed care of the issue, he could have done a lot for the campaign (here I am assuming two things that aren't necessarily true, but I was nevertheless disappointed with his passivity on the issue: one, that being a celebrity, he is also a resident of California as many are and two, that being in a relationship, he sees marriage as an important issue to fight for). Instead, he opted to show gay youth that it is not important to fight for your rights if the increased visibility might impact your career.

Don't even gay me started with Lance Bass who came out just in time for book about being a gay boy bander was released (eerily similar to recently out country music star Chely Wright who came out the day before her book and CD were released).

Lastly, we come to Elton John. Elton has done more for gay rights than probably any other celebrity before him. He proved that you could be gay and still be successful. His song "That's What Friends Are For" with Dionne Warwick and Friends helped to raise over $3 million for the American Foundation for AIDS Research. He truly exemplified a gay mentor, until last week. He performed at Rush Limbaugh's wedding for a reported $1 million. My question to y'all is how much does your soul cost? Cause I can tell you sure as hell that my asking price would be a lot higher!!!

Luckily for me (and all of us really), we are no longer in a place where we know zero gay people. And better yet, we have plenty of role models. I would personally like to thank my role model, Christopher Purcell, for proving to me that gay men can stand up for what they believe in and live their life free from fear and doubt. If I had known people like him when I was younger, my childhood would have been a far less scary and dark place.

Anonymous Posts (6.7.10-6.13.10)

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 :)

Just got back from DC Pride with a bunch of Dukies. Simply epic. Pride is a cathartic and comforting showing of solidarity in a country that seems to want nothing to do with "others." Having said that, I have never felt more pale and out of shape in my life.

Anyhow. I think I've hijacked the blog enough this week, so I'm just going to get to the anonymous posts.

#1

Right now nothing is more difficult than figuring out whether I also like men or whether I'm just trying to distract myself from other issues in my life. It used to come and go in high school, so upon entering college I chalked my feelings up to teenage angst. But these days I'm starting to feel that way regularly and I know I'm much more on top of things than I was as a high schooler. To be frank, I'm completely petrified at the idea of approaching another man, let alone telling close friends or family members. I like to think of myself as a guy who doesn't care what other people think of him, but I know the things some of my friends say and I can't help but wonder whether they'd ever feel like they could act like themselves around me. And why am I even thinking about coming out? I'm not even sure if I'm being honest with myself at this point.

And just like that, Zealots by the Fugees came up on iTunes and I feel better for the time being. Thank you for bearing with my rant. May you all haunt MCs like Mephistopheles. That's a reference to the song I'm listening to, in case I just confused everyone.

#1.5

Follow up to my post (had The Fugees song): Clearly I'm a true hipster. I want people to think I have good taste in music even when I'm anonymous :P

Hi. My Name is Brandy. PUKE!

I’m gay. I’m out. I go to the Center. I can walk through the doors without my face feeling hot…I can sit in the back room without my hands shaking…and I can say hello to the people who work there without staring at the floor.

This is a big improvement from a year and a half ago when I took Janie’s class Clinical Issues for LGBT. During breaks, I would go to the bathroom to see if my face was red because it felt extremely hot. I would hide my shaking hands under the table and I would try really hard to make eye contact while talking.

Sometimes I would cry out of happiness on the bus ride home from the class because I was so touched to sit in a room with queer people. It literally made my day when one of the people I knew wasn’t straight had a conversation with me. Sometimes I would cry myself to sleep because people said things that I found very hurtful. I was sad because the L, G, B, and T are not one happy family. Needless to say, it was a little bit of a roller coaster and I probably wasn’t comfortable enough with my sexuality to take the class in the first place.

I have grown a lot since taking the class. I am more accepting of myself. I even have “interested in women” listed on my Facebook page. Despite this progress, sometimes I worry that I just put on a façade of being a comfortably out queer person. I say this given part of me doesn’t feel like a “real” gay. I know that this is a little ridiculous because what the hell is a “real” gay is in the first place? The not-so-rational part of me says that, in order to be a “real” gay a person has to experience knowing that they are queer without anyone else being aware of the fact.

I never really had to face this challenge. I came out to my queer friends who I was especially close to very soon after I began questioning. I don’t think I would have got to the point of actively questioning for any length of time if they didn’t come out to me. These friends were there all along the way. I had special escorts to take me to the Center. I had special escorts to take me to BDU. I had special escorts to tell me about the queer people on campus. Before walking into the Center, I knew a lot of people’s names and how they identified.

I never endured the pain that occurs when a person knows that they are queer, but hasn’t told anyone else. I realize that this is probably a horrible experience…isolating and alienating to say the least. But, all the same, part of me wishes that I went through it. I would be able to share this experience with other people when they talk about coming out. I would be able to feel a sense of connection when they mention how they knew they were queer, but couldn’t manage to tell anyone for a long time.

Intellectually, I think the not-so-rational part of me is interesting. It says that in order to be a “real” gay a person has to experience knowing that they are queer without anyone else being aware of the fact. Even so, not every queer person has been in this situation. I know because I’m one of those people. This experience plays a fundamental role in coming out stories when they are circulated within the LGBT community. I want my story to fit within this all too prevalent model. I want to be a “real” gay. Yes. I’m attracted to women and not attracted to men…but sometimes I still don’t feel like a “real” gay.

My feelings of inauthenticity are partially derived from never being out to myself without being out to other people. I have explained this in detail above, but I’m still glossing over a large portion of the picture. Part of me wants to pretend that I’m putting it all out there…that this is the only reason why I don’t feel like a “real” gay. But, I’m not being completely honest. I also don’t feel like a “real” gay because I don’t call myself lesbian…because I initially came out as gay and bisexual…and because my interest in D/s means gender isn’t always the most important thing to me. Simply put, my sexuality is complicated…it doesn’t fit into a nice little box. But, I like labels. Of the multitude of identities potentially available to me I could choose gay, lesbian, bisexual, queer…any combination of the four or I could keep it simple with “no labels please.” I’m a fan of complex messes so I choose to call myself gay.

Sometimes I flat out say I’m gay. Sometimes I let people assume I’m lesbian. Sometimes I keep it short by saying queer. I usually use that word when I want to avoid the hour long conversation that starts with “I’m gay, but not lesbian…and no I don’t just refuse to call myself lesbian because I’m a patriarchal misogynist that is afraid of female sexuality. In reality, my interest in D/s complicates my experience.” I hate this conversation because, the very few times I have had it without burying my face in a hoodie, it has ended with me thinking “don’t tell me what YOU think I am or what YOU think I should call myself cause if YOU do so I will gladly ‘cut you’ (as Justin says).” The need for this conversation and my reluctance to start it, along with never having the experience of knowing I’m gay without anyone else being aware of the fact, makes me feel inauthentic. It makes me feel like I’m not a “real” gay.

Despite these feelings, I’m slowly I’m becoming more comfortable. My face doesn’t get hot any more, my hands don’t shake, and I can look people in the eye. But, I’m still making my way out from underneath the hoodie. I say these things knowing that most people probably perceive me as being very out. I suppose I am very out…my friends know, my family knows… Facebook knows. But, I don’t always feel out. I don’t always feel okay with my sexuality. Sometimes I catch myself being biphobic which saddens me because activism around bisexuality gave me the courage to come out…while I only call myself gay at the moment the B helped me be okay with my interest in D/s. Sometimes I’m afraid to be out around women who identify as lesbian…I don’t want them to think I’m any less of a “real” gay because I don’t use that label. I guess I still have wok to do. I’m trying to contain the not-so-rational part of me that says I’m not a “real” gay. With time, I suppose this issue will pass…I can feel it becoming more distant as time goes on.

After taking Janie’s class, it took me quite a while to go to a BDU meeting. I would tell my roommate, the president by chance, that I would go every week. At the last minute, I would back out. My excuse…I can’t go because I will get so nervous that I will puke all over the floor. That isn’t a very good introduction. “Hi. My name is Brandy. PUKE!” My roommate said I was being ridiculous. If I puked she would simply summon Aliza to clean it up, act like nothing happened, and continue on with the meeting. The thought of seeing this post on the blog makes me feel a little queasy. People will know my big fear of not being a “real” gay. They will know that I’m not comfortable with my sexuality all the time. They will remind me that I wrote this post by mentioning it when they see me. I’m tempted to not send this post to the editor. I’m tempted to put it up anonymously. My excuse…I can’t do it because I will get so nervous that I will puke all over the floor. But, my roommate was right, that excuse doesn’t really hold up. I didn’t puke at a BDU meeting and I probably won’t puke over a blog post. If I do, maybe Aliza will offer to clean it up, we can act like nothing happened, and we can continue on with everything else.

* * *

Considering I graduated in May, this will probably be my first and last post on the blog. As a result…shout outs to Viviana and Hassaan for escorting me to the Center and to BDU …thanks for telling me about the queer people on campus. Shout outs to Jack and Gina for listening to me talk about my sexuality while hiding under a hoodie. Thanks to Cody for putting up with my very awkward Common Ground coming out back in the day. Thanks to Janie for acting like nothing was out of the ordinary even though I stared at the floor when I was first introduced to you. Much love to Chris (Purcell and Perry) for helping me feel more comfortable by making endless jokes about D/s. Last but not least…thanks to Peggy Ann for being a welcoming face even when my face felt hot and my hands were shaking.