Thank You, Jonathan Zhao

Dear Jonathan,

I know that there’s been a lot of controversy over your recent op-ed for The Chronicle this past week entitled “Gay Marriage is Not a Right,” Having spent the entire semester reading your eloquent and well-informed prose about various issues confronting the Duke community and the broader world, I wanted to take a moment to thank you personally for all that your brilliant article did for me.

First off, thank you for reminding me what I’m fighting against:

Because the sentiments embodied by Amendment One are not just shared by the North Carolina legislature and 61% of this state, but by people who walk around on my campus everyday.

Because you’re not the only one who thinks it’s okay to put minority rights to a majority vote.

Because the phrase “liberty and justice for all” still excludes people like me.

And because, despite your categorical rejection of my right to a family, you still feel comfortable asserting that you’re not a bigot.

Secondly, thank you for reminding me to fight harder:

Because Duke’s introductory political science and economics classes can teach a freshman like you to use those intellectual tools for hatred.

Because The Chronicle still takes homophobia so lightly that they’re willing to publish your work and let you sit on their Editorial Board this upcoming year.

Because denying members of the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, and Queer community fundamental rights is still considered to be a “legitimate political opinion”

Because we have an education system that allows even those with access to the best educational resources to know absolutely nothing about what the LGBTQ community has gone through—from Stonewall to electroshock therapy to the AIDS crisis.

And because opinions like yours are taken so seriously in many communities that LGBTQ people are routinely killed, assaulted, or forced into poverty simply for being who they are.

Lastly, thank you for bringing our community together:

Because after your column was published, we all remembered that the fight against homophobia and heterosexism hasn’t ended on this campus, in this state, or around the world.

Because over the course of this semester, you’ve once again reminded us just how closely homophobia and sexism function together.

And because, through your writings, you’ve only fortified our collective desire to ensure that people like you are remembered as those who stood against the tide of progress.

Jonathan Zhao, thank you.

Sincerely,

Jacob

P.S. I would also like to point out another portion of your article that I found deeply unsettling, namely your assertion that “playing Nickelback loudly from my car...is not harmful enough to strip me of the liberty to play it.” Personally, I find Nickelback’s music to be a fundamental violation of my human rights and would support a referendum calling for its abolition in the state of North Carolina.

Greek Life – It’s Greek to Me

It’s the spring semester, and along with that label come fraternity and sorority rushing and pledging. You’ll be hard pressed to find a day in which you don’t hear girls raving about their “bigs,” “sisters,” “families,” and the like. If you pay close enough attention, you may also hear guys complaining about the time-consuming and stressful nature of pledging. These facets, though apparently frivolous, aren’t really offensive. Rather, Greek Life, through heteronormativity and the reinforcement of the gender binary, is offensive to the LGBT community.

The core notion of Greek life is a collection of individuals with similar interests who get together for social interaction. These social interactions include parties and “mixers”. Parties, typically hosted by fraternities, very often uphold the qualities of heteronormativity because of their exclusivity based on gender. For example, fraternities will host parties that only female community members can attend. This is under several assumptions about males and females that pin the LGBT community as belonging to another, or abnormal, demographic.

Primarily, this assumes that all male members of the fraternity are heterosexual. Let’s face it; we know that frat parties are centered on hook up culture. Thus, if only female community members are allowed to attend frat parties, then we can logically assume that all members in the frat are heterosexual. This is clearly not the case. Quite a few gay and bisexual men are out to their fraternities, but one of these students has told me that in order for men outside of the fraternity to attend the party, they will need to be on a list. Therefore, fraternities will marginalize its gay and bisexual members by requiring them to list men with whom they would like to hook up with.

Additionally, this tenet of Greek Life assumes that all male community members seeking entrance to a frat party are heterosexual, trying to “steal” the women. I have encountered this in my own experience, and protesting, claiming my homosexuality proves futile (perhaps because of an aversion to homosexuals and inherent homophobia in the Greek system).

I’ve discussed this with members of fraternities. They offer an alternative rationalization that males are denied entry to frat parties because they pose a safety hazard and are more likely to cause damage. This offensively pins a flaw to my entire gender, clearly a very large demographic.

Fraternities and sororities engage in “mixers,” events at which hooking up is central to the experience, according to my friends in Greek life. Once again heteronormativity comes into play, as it is the assumption that all members in fraternities in sororities will want to hook up with a member of the opposite sex. Clearly it would be equivalent to incest, should “brothers” and “sisters” hook up with members of the same group, so hooking up for gay and lesbian members is non-existent. Again, these qualities are highly marginalizing to the gay, lesbian, and bisexual communities.

Offense to transgender students is easy to point out. Fraternities are for men. Sororities are for women. At an institution like Duke, we should be asking ourselves the questions such as “In what kind of Greek group do transgender students belong?” and “What are out gender-neutral Greek options?” Though I don’t know the answers to my own questions, I would like somebody to indulge my curiosity.

As outlined, Greek Life, though it includes members from a broad range of backgrounds in regards to sexual orientation, only superficially appeals to cisgender heterosexuals. As a result, I think it’s time that our institution take action. Let’s extend gender neutrality beyond the realms of just independent residence halls and certain selective living groups. Let’s begin to take action in conjunction the Interfraternity Council and the Panhellenic Association to make the entire Greek scene less offensive to a large portion of the LGBT community. I invite you to discuss whether these changes are appropriate, and how we can effectively make such adjustments.

-Daniel Kort

Anonymous Posts (2.18.13-2.25.13)

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, hate speech, or express or insinuate that one is at risk for hurting themselves or someone else. Please read this for an explanation of this policy and seek help if your or a friend find yourself in that position. With those exceptions aside, please feel free to submit your thoughts and questions. :)

Hey y'all! After roughly a month of no Anonymous Posts, we got a bunch this past week. We hope you enjoy reading them, and keep sending them in!



#1:
Yo it was totally cool of the athletics department to bring in the You Can Play people to talk to all the first year athletes about homophobia in sport, but it was totally not cool of the You Can Play people to be super sexist and a lil homophobic themselves. The platform where three recently graduated college athletes, two gay men and a bisexual woman, talked about their experiences coming out as athletes was a really good idea and I think it made more of an impact on people than just having someone get up and talk about the possibility of there being gay people in the sports world, but that one guy was a real a-hole (and the guy who was in charge wasn't the most professional either). Laughingly telling a roomful of freshmen that you decided to fuck your girlfriend a lot senior year to try and convince yourself you were not gay and later following to say you feel bad for straight guys cause you get tired of listening to girls talk when you have to talk to them at bars or that all the girls in a gay bar would want you if you were the one straight guy there sort of seems like you might be shitting on girls a little bit. But let's all really be respectful of one another! Really! Also when you make sidelong comments about "aggressive" gay people at a pride parade it seems like you're not really helping your cause. But no worries, "If You Can Play (and you're a bro) You Can Play"

#2:
I am really into this guy, but he's in a fraternity and not completely out. I'm not sure how to go about asking him out when I'm not 'supposed' to know he's gay in the first place. The thing is, I see him all over campus (BC, gym, plaza, bus stop) and I really want to engage him in a conversation, but I'm not sure how. What should I do?

#3:
It makes me sad that there have been no anonymous posts in a month!!!!

#4:
http://www.dukechronicle.com/article/column-my-image-me-versus-my-image-gay Almost 10 years later it looks like many of us face this same identity crisis.

Please remember that there are a number of resources available on campus and in the local community. These resources are available over breaks and throughout the school year. If you or a friend are experiencing thoughts or urges to harm yourself or somebody else, please reach out to the following resources: In an emergency, please don't hesitate to call CAPS at any time, including "after hours" at (919) 966-3820. Ask to speak to the advice nurse and tell them you are a Duke student. You may also call the Trevor Project, a national hotline specifically for lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, queer and questioning youth (college students included). Their number is 866-4-U-TREVOR (866-488-7386).

W 4th Street & Memory Lane

Gay Liberation by George Segal (1980)

It was a cold, murky day in New York on the date of President Barack Obama’s second inauguration. That morning I was exploring Greenwich Village and decided to have a brunch in a cozy café on Bleecker Street to watch the president’s speech. It was a typical New York coffee shop (cash only, indie music playing in the background). A tiny television hanging on the vintage brick wall showed the inaugural ceremonies. The music in the shop was turned down by the time the president came up to take the oath and give his speech. One excerpt from the speech stood out to me immediately:

“We, the people, declare today that the most evident of truths –- that all of us are created equal –- is the star that guides us still; just as it guided our forebears through Seneca Falls, and Selma, and Stonewall…. Our journey is not complete until our gay brothers and sisters are treated like anyone else under the law, for if we are truly created equal, then surely the love we commit to one another must be equal as well.”

It was nothing short of a historical moment. This was the first time a president had mentioned the gay rights movement in an inaugural address, and President Obama had just done this  boldly by putting in the context of two other struggles for civil rights, both for women and African Americans.

The Stonewall Riots, to which the president referred, took place in 1969 in the Village as a reaction to the police department’s closing of the nearby Stonewall Inn, a covert gay bar. It is credited with igniting the modern gay rights movement, and the first gay pride parades were held to commemorate the riots

I just so happened to stumble upon Christopher Park later that day as I was looking for the subway station. This is where to Stonewall Riots started. This day, though, there were not any riots. It was mostly quiet in the Village due to the holiday and chilly conditions. There was just an occasional jogger or mother pushing a stroller beneath the overcast sky.

In the park is a sculpture by George Segal entitled Gay Liberation. It depicts two men standing and two women sitting, both couples in natural, relaxed poses. The statues are bronze with a coating of white paint, and a plaque nearby describes the significance of the park’s history.

I was obviously not present for the riots, but I could not help but think of the huge contrast between now and then. In 1969, homosexuality was not only taboo in New York City and most of the country, but there were specific laws barring gay relations. Gays lived in the shadows and risked imprisonment for going to bars like the Stonewall Inn. But now same-sex marriages are allowed within six states and counting, including New York. And Rhode Island seems to be the next one to join the party. Back then, the city police were sent to shut down a gay nightclub but now the President of the United States was announcing to both the country and the world his commitment to marriage equality and LGBT rights.

To be sure, many members of the LGBT community are still persecuted in many places around the world. But it is quite astounding to think of the seismic shifts which have occurred in just four decades, and are still taking place. Sitting in the park stirred up many feelings in me, but the strongest one was pride in our progress and the warriors who brought us here.

Quasi-Steady State

In biochemistry, transport, and other realms of differential equations, when attempting to solve for an explicit solution to what the concentration is at a certain time or location, that we assume that the tiny fluctuations in concentration over time are so minimal that they can be ignored. Thus, we assume a quasi-steady state, where the change in concentration over time is zero.

My life has been at a quasi-steady state, with really nothing new to talk about. The research is gaining speed, while I've also retired my positions from the IQA (trading one activity for another). I suppose the only new activity in my life has been trying out acting, of which I've been in one show for Antic Shakespeare last semester and will be in one show this semester.

I suppose there's not too much to say. I was in a relationship for about a month, and then it ended. Last semester's classes and headache were traded in for new classes this semester and more headache (lab reports should not take 24 continuous hours to complete). I've seen my activities flow in, and flow out, leaving me at a steady state in this realm. I guess I can't really complain.

Sometimes I wish I could break out of this steady state, but it is rather comfortable. Maybe I'll take another risk and find another relationship some day soon. Regrettably, any perturbations outside of this stability are not strong enough to reach a new steady state. Perhaps analyzing this mathematically is one of the reasons why I am single, but you know what? I'm okay with that.

It is only a quasi-state because I know that things are changing for me and around me. But maybe, for now, I don't need to worry about things changing in relationships. Maybe I can assume that the change is zero.

Anonymous Posts (1.29.13-2.4.13)

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, hate speech, or express or insinuate that one is at risk for hurting themselves or someone else. Please read this for an explanation of this policy and seek help if your or a friend find yourself in that position. With those exceptions aside, please feel free to submit your thoughts and questions. :)


Sorry folks, no anonymous posts this week. If you have anything to say, be sure to submit something in our sidebar.

Please remember that there are a number of resources available on campus and in the local community. These resources are available over breaks and throughout the school year. If you or a friend are experiencing thoughts or urges to harm yourself or somebody else, please reach out to the following resources: In an emergency, please don't hesitate to call CAPS at any time, including "after hours" at (919) 966-3820. Ask to speak to the advice nurse and tell them you are a Duke student. You may also call the Trevor Project, a national hotline specifically for lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, queer and questioning youth (college students included). Their number is 866-4-U-TREVOR (866-488-7386).

Anonymous Posts (1.22.13-1.28.13)

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, hate speech, or express or insinuate that one is at risk for hurting themselves or someone else. Please read this for an explanation of this policy and seek help if your or a friend find yourself in that position. With those exceptions aside, please feel free to submit your thoughts and questions. :)

No Anonymous Posts for you this week, I'm afraid. As always, feel free to send in any thoughts or feelings you'd like to share via the sidebar on this webpage.

Please remember that there are a number of resources available on campus and in the local community. These resources are available over breaks and throughout the school year. If you or a friend are experiencing thoughts or urges to harm yourself or somebody else, please reach out to the following resources: In an emergency, please don't hesitate to call CAPS at any time, including "after hours" at (919) 966-3820. Ask to speak to the advice nurse and tell them you are a Duke student. You may also call the Trevor Project, a national hotline specifically for lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, queer and questioning youth (college students included). Their number is 866-4-U-TREVOR (866-488-7386).

When You Mean Well, but Not Well Enough

Over winter break, my family and I watched the film Philadelphia, which stars Tom Hanks as a lawyer who gets fired by his law firm due to his homosexuality and worsening case of AIDS (and Denzel Washington - go watch it!).

“Why does Tom Hanks have AIDS?” asked my mum.

My brother responded, “We don’t know. The film doesn’t tell us. Probably sexual activity.”

As if to scold Andy Beckett, the protagonist of Philadelphia, or perhaps to derive some kind of universal moral lesson for me and my brother, my dad said, “That’s why we should accept gays, but not promote it,” said my dad.

This isn’t the first time my parents have used this curious term of “promotion.” In my senior year of high school, I revived the LGBT club named the Spectrum Club, which had fallen into inactivity for a couple years. When I told my parents that I was involved in such activities, they immediately told me to stop. Despite my arguing and protests, we left off there with my parents saying that it didn’t have to be me who does the “promotion.” Since then, they have become a bit more liberal in their view points, thanks to the legalization of gay marriage in New York which helped legitimize the gay rights movement in everyone’s recent memory. Therefore, it was rather disheartening to hear my parents use this same language again a couple years later.

My friend O sometimes talks about irritations caused by her parents, but often digresses and defends them by saying, “they mean well.” To borrow her phrase, my parents mean well. They are not excessively ignorant, and they understand that there are oppressed groups in society. In fact, I’d regard my parents as very smart and enlightened people about many things who did a bloody good job raising me. Anyone can mean well, but you also have to think of how to make your thoughts and actions reflect meaning well.

What my parents mean when they say “promote” is not entirely clear. So how much should we actually “promote homosexuality?” How much is enough? From the legal perspective, there isn’t really a reason to exclude LGBT couples from the institution of marriage given that marriage is a contract in which two individuals enter. I believe that any two consenting adults should be able to get married, and I am willing to express this viewpoint through blog posts like this one and perhaps more importantly, through my votes. From the social perspective, LGBT individuals are people just like anybody else. We should be their friends and in some cases, we may need to stand as their allies. If I’m any good at this subtext thing though, I think my parents still hold the misconception that being gay necessarily implies irresponsible sexual behaviour, and that homosexuality is a thing that exists, but ought to cease existing rather than continue. But that isn’t possible because even though no one fully understands the origin of being LGBT, we will certainly stick around for a while. The way to pursue better sexual health among the LGBT community isn’t to condemn the sexual cultures that exist now and in the past, but to allow more to come out in the open so that we may continue to do whatever it is we like to do romantically without endangering our health.

To take a page from my dad’s book - here’s the moralizing lesson I’m going to take from this story and bestow upon anyone reading this: when it comes to the way you view an issue like LGBT politics, even if you do not want to be the loudest proponent, you still have a responsibility to re-evaluate the stereotypes you hold so that at the least, you do not perpetuate ideas like the conflation of homosexuality with HIV/AIDS. 

Anonymous Posts (12.13.12-1.21.13)

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, hate speech, or express or insinuate that one is at risk for hurting themselves or someone else. Please read this for an explanation of this policy and seek help if your or a friend find yourself in that position. With those exceptions aside, please feel free to submit your thoughts and questions. :)

#1:
I'm hoping to come out pretty soon to my Duke community. Can I hear some of your stories about coming out to friends here? Was it pretty nonchalant or did you use the opportunity to foster some discussion about the topic?

#2:
“Weight”
Before coming to college, I made a pledge to myself that I’d be open, that I’d be honest. I wouldn’t hide like I did in high school. I’d be true to how I was feeling. Things would change. Things would be different. And they did. A few months into freshman year, I came out to my roommates and received nothing but support. To them, who I liked, boys, girls, it made no difference. And for all the support they gave, me, I couldn’t be more grateful. But as I come to the end of my junior year, I’m beginning to realize that college does, in fact, end, that things do, in fact, change. I’m realizing that this bubble, this pocket of liberal ideas and boundless inclusion, this world that I have been able to carefully construct for myself…it’s not eternal. Outside of my little Duke snow globe, things are different. I’ve never told anyone outside of college about my sexuality. I never came out to my parents. That’s not to say I think they’re oblivious. They know I’ve never had a girlfriend. I never even pretended to. But it’s still something we all know not to mention, because the moment someone were to, everything would change and this secret that I’ve kept so beautifully secluded in my fantasy college universe would enter into the real world. It would enter into a place where there is shame, where there’s blame, where there’s homophobia, where there’s discrimination and where there aren’t LGBT meetings one afternoon a week at The Center. In that moment, things would change. My dad would look down at the table disappointed. My mom would cry. Life would get harder; the path would get more obscure. My friend once asked me what’s the hardest thing about being gay. Was it not being accepted? Was it finding a suitable partner? I said no, because for me, I think the answer is bigger, more fundamental. When you’re gay, there is a cruel lack of weighting, a certain lack of gravity that you’re forced to contend with. The American ideal, the white picket fence and 2.1 kids, the family dog, the PTA meetings, the bake sales, the neighbors that smile as you pass on the sidewalk, they’re all possible when you’re straight. But when you’re not, it becomes an ideal you’re forced - every day - to look at but know you will be greeted by infinite obstacles if you try to touch. I’ve had nights where I dreamed that that life could be mine, that somehow I could find my way into that social gravitational pull and feel what it’s like to be on the other side, to be within the sphere of cultural “normal”, to feel what it’s like to have a path beneath my feet. I wish I didn’t have to feel like I was always floating, looking down into a world that wasn’t made for me. Before coming to college, I made a pledge to myself that I’d be open, that I’d be honest. Well, right now, the most honest desire I have in my heart is for gravity. There will be those that will say what about love? What about freedom? Well, maybe my definition of free is different. Maybe I’ll find a nice girl, and we’ll settle down and have a kid, or two. And they’ll go to school and they’ll grow up well and they’ll go play with my parents on weekends. And my parents, they’ll be happy, and they’ll be proud. And my wife and I, we’d build a life that’s simple, and we’d love each other because we’re happy in what we built together, and we’d find freedom in the fact that we’re finally living grounded and weighted.
- Yellow Saint

Please remember that there are a number of resources available on campus and in the local community. These resources are available over breaks and throughout the school year. If you or a friend are experiencing thoughts or urges to harm yourself or somebody else, please reach out to the following resources: In an emergency, please don't hesitate to call CAPS at any time, including "after hours" at (919) 966-3820. Ask to speak to the advice nurse and tell them you are a Duke student. You may also call the Trevor Project, a national hotline specifically for lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, queer and questioning youth (college students included). Their number is 866-4-U-TREVOR (866-488-7386).

The Other L Word

You know when you learn a new concept or come to a personal realization and all of a sudden it seems to pop up everywhere? Almost as if your realization is causing examples of this phenomenon to emerge? Like you’re learning about different kinds of deafness in you Intro Psych class, you walk out of the lecture, whip out your smartphone, and The New York Times is all, “Cochlear Implants See Changes in Affordability.” You go to English Lit. and your professor’s giving that obligatory 5-minute biographical sketch of the writer you’re reading and you find out that author had congenital hearing loss in one ear. You pop in your L Word DVD for a study break and Bette Porter is getting friendly with an edgy deaf sculptor. Where is it all coming from???

I had a similar experience today in that I decided what to write my final post of 2012 on and then my clever metaphorical parallel for gayness was all over my computer screen this afternoon. I loaded up the Colbert Report from Tuesday night, as I’m liable to do at lunch while om-nom-nomming on a simple, yet exquisite Blue Express turkey sandwich. And Colbert’s in-character doing this bit about California’s ban on gay ‘conversion’ therapy, and he compares it to trying to ‘correct’ left-handedness. That’s what I was going to say!

Apparently it was not just me who was going to say it either, because browsing AfterEllen I found a pretty fantastic article called “What kind of parent would want a gay kid? The best kind.” about all the expectations parents form for their kids even before they’re born. The basic conclusion was that if a parent said something like, “Well, kiddo, you’re OK but I just really wish you’d come out a brunette rather than a ginger” most of us would agree that would be a pretty stupid and terrible attitude to have towards your child. And then there it was again, the writer, Lucy Hallowell, goes on to say, “Having a gay kid should be no different than having a kid with blond hair (maybe you were wishing for brown)…or left handed (because then you have to have a pair of those special scissors around the house).” Not just those scissors, but the pool of lecture desks available to you will be so much smaller. And you’ll probably smudge your paper while you’re writing.

Now I’m obviously not saying all the societal ramifications of being LGBT are tantamount to having to order a special pair of scissors. Hate crimes, bullying, discrimination, and LGBT suicides are extremely real. But I’d like to hold up the left-handed parallel, not as an accurate figurative representation of reality, but as a future ideal. As in I hope one day being gay will actually be like being left-handed. I think that would be a good place to be. I keep realizing, or re-realizing, that a few of my teammates are left-handed, and my primary response is, “Huh, I didn’t know you were left-handed” *moves on with day*. It’s just a sort of quirk, clearly not a handicap. But people used to go to great lengths to try to ‘fix’ left-handedness. The English word “sinister” is derived from the Latin for “left.” I’ll leave you with a scene that illustrates what this gay-as-left-handed reality could look like. It’s from the British show Skins, which has a fairly rabid cult following, especially revolving around the lesbian couple Emily and Naomi. Emily is standing at a bus stop in the freezing cold with her friend Thomas. She’s just borrowed his shoes.

EMILY: I'm gay, Thomas.

THOMAS: It's fine. Shall we call a taxi? I don't think this bus is going to come soon.

Besides, my feet are extremely cold.

Anonymous Posts (11.26.12-12.10.12)

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, hate speech, or express or insinuate that one is at risk for hurting themselves or someone else. Please read this for an explanation of this policy and seek help if your or a friend find yourself in that position. With those exceptions aside, please feel free to submit your thoughts and questions. :)


Hey y'all,

We've got a post for you today. We at the blog would also like to wish you the best of luck through finals week. See you on the other side.

#1:
How do i get an invite to this party?


Please remember that there are a number of resources available on campus and in the local community. These resources are available over breaks and throughout the school year. If you or a friend are experiencing thoughts or urges to harm yourself or somebody else, please reach out to the following resources: In an emergency, please don't hesitate to call CAPS at any time, including "after hours" at (919) 966-3820. Ask to speak to the advice nurse and tell them you are a Duke student. You may also call the Trevor Project, a national hotline specifically for lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, queer and questioning youth (college students included). Their number is 866-4-U-TREVOR (866-488-7386).

Passive

Thanksgiving was last week. That holiday where the main focus is supposed to be around people you love and sharing good times. For me, Thanksgiving was about eating as much as possible while watching the football games and pretending to go to sleep so I didn't have to participate in the conversations that were going on around me. Here a few snippets of the dialogue:

"Black men go over there to Asia and marry them Chinese women because they know they can control them."

"Asian and Japanese women always get more money from the courts when they divorce a Black man because they come over here to America with no skills and can't speak English so they need the help."

"I think a bunch of faggots made up the laws about who gets what when people get divorced. There's no way in hell a REAL man would write laws that would make men give women more money."

"I'll be damned if I let a fag tell me what to do."

I tuned out other parts and tried to forget the worst.

Fun stuff isn't it? The conversation started when a member of my family mentioned how she noticed a lot of Black men in the military were marrying non-Black women. (I have no knowledge as to the validity of the statement...)

So, I sat there trying to ignore the ignorance. Focused intently on the game I was watching with my plate of Thanksgiving food piled high, I figured it'd be best for me to keep my mouth stuffed with food for fear that I'd blow a gasket and go insane from the racism and homophobia.

The more I sat in silence, the more I grew upset at myself. Why couldn't I just say something? Why sit there silently simmering about the bile being spewed in their speech when I could stand up against them? If I sit here in my (albeit, uneasy) comfort and just let it go, what right do I have to ask anyone else to speak up for me when my identity is being dragged through the muck?

I felt like a coward. That was my chance to kill two birds with one stone. I could have finally come out to my family and shown them that I fully embrace this "different person" I've become while at Duke as they like to say. I could have shown them how I learned so much more about life in general than actual knowledge gained from a textbook.

But no. I sat there. Too scared of the consequences to speak up for what is right. Too afraid of becoming the family outcast that I practically already am. Too terrified to show them the real me that hides beneath the shell of the me they used to know. I sat there taking solace in the fact that it was easier for me to ignore it until I came back to Durham than stand up and fight. I could let it all pass until I could pretend once again that the family I'm supposed to love unconditionally and put before anyone or anything else and is supposed to do the same for me doesn't actually hate everything about the real me. I could pretend that I wouldn't know how they'd react or what they'd say behind my back.

Except, now I do know. They didn't even have to tell me directly.

I hate going home.

Anonymous Posts (11.12.12-11.25.12)

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, hate speech, or express or insinuate that one is at risk for hurting themselves or someone else. Please read this for an explanation of this policy and seek help if your or a friend find yourself in that position. With those exceptions aside, please feel free to submit your thoughts and questions. :)

Hey y'all!

Glad to say, we've got some anonymous posts today. Welcome back from Thanksgiving Break, and I wish you luck in these last few weeks and finals.

Now, notes from OC:


#1:
With voting power comes influence.

#2:
Today, I hesitantly kissed my girlfriend on the main quad and...nothing happened. No one said anything offensive to us, no one made a face. In fact, no one even shot us a second glance. I'm a long way away from this being completely comfortable but...this was certainly reassuring :)

Please remember that there are a number of resources available on campus and in the local community. These resources are available over breaks and throughout the school year. If you or a friend are experiencing thoughts or urges to harm yourself or somebody else, please reach out to the following resources: In an emergency, please don't hesitate to call CAPS at any time, including "after hours" at (919) 966-3820. Ask to speak to the advice nurse and tell them you are a Duke student. You may also call the Trevor Project, a national hotline specifically for lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, queer and questioning youth (college students included). Their number is 866-4-U-TREVOR (866-488-7386).

Stealth Trans

On the first day of classes, I stopped by my favorite campus eatery to grab a quick bite before I headed off to my stats class. A couple of the employees murmured for a few seconds after I walked through the door. The cashier approached me, and asked “Did you have a sister that went to Duke?”

I'm a semi stealth transman at Duke. What does this mean? It means that about 80% of the people in my life have no idea that I'm a transgender man. The other 20% are folks I met prior to my transition. After a semester of transitioning, I took a leave of absence from Duke to fully adjust to my new life. Now I'm back a year later, no longer resembling the person I used to be.

It was two and a half years ago when I came across a couple hundred youtube videos of transgender men talking about their lives. I was studying abroad at the time, and I would spend hours at a park near my apartment watching video after video of these men discussing their transitions. I had known that there wasn't something “right” about my gender since the age of 6, but thanks to familial pressure and a education at an all girls catholic high school, I had learned to suppress whatever unresolved feelings I had about my gender at risk of creating trouble in my household and my community.While the notion of becoming who I always knew myself to be was empowering, it was not without many nights of deliberating. This was so much harder than when I came out as pansexual; my decision would have countless permanent life-long implications on almost every aspect of my life. Needless to say, I made the decision to go forward with my transition. When I came back to school that fall, I came out to everyone as a man.

I couldn't have asked for a better group of friends to come out to. I'm eternally grateful to the people who were by my side during the earliest stages of my transition; without them, I'm certain I would not be writing this to you all today. However, coming out as transgender at Duke was hard; and even “hard” is somewhat of an understatement here. As someone who prides himself on his reserved and private nature, what would normally be information that I wouldn't share with strangers was now something that I constantly had to explain to everyone: the students in my project groups for my classes, my professors, my fellow coworkers, and every new person that I met. After coming out I was met with a barrage of invasive questions, most of which I didn't even have the answer at the time. “So when are you going to have the surgery?”, “But how do you expect people to treat you like a man when you don't look like one?”, “Are you sure about this? You should see someone”. After 10 weeks of this, it was certainly time for a break. I left Duke for a year, continued transitioning, and spent my days surrounded by close friends whose presence nursed me back to health both mentally and emotionally.

So what's it like being back now? I'm happy to report that after a year and some change into my physical transition, my life here is fairly average. The energy that I used to spend correcting and explaining is now used on cramming for tests and marathon sessions of playing FIFA13. I haven't been misgendered in well over 8 or 9 months. In the eyes of the law, I'm still a 5'9 brown eyed female who requires corrective lenses to drive, but that's going to change after a trip to the DMV soon. Besides cashiers taking my credit card and my DukeCard, I haven't had to come out to anyone in quite some time. Every time I've outed myself in these situations, the people in question have been accepting and apologetic for the most part. My Fridays are no longer filled with anxiety about being outed in public spaces; instead I'm back to twerkin at my favorite bars and kickin it with friends wherever the best drink specials are in this city.

I don't like the idea of “it gets better”, because in a lot of ways it hasn't. My relationship with my family has changed for the worst, I still deal with gender dysphoria from time to time, and living with an endless paper trail detailing my former life is stressful and overwhelming at times. However, I will say that my life here has gotten a hell of a lot easier. I'm back to living my life as a Duke student, balancing procrastination and academic stress like a champion.

Was it all worth it? There are some days where I have massive doubt about the answer to this question, but ultimately, the answer is always yes. Being a stealth transgender man at Duke hasn't always been a party. As I wrap up my last few months walking around this campus, I'm proud to be where I am now. There aren't words to express the feeling I get when I check myself out in the mirror before I head out in the morning. A lot of this experience has been brutal physically, emotionally, and mentally, but I'm still hanging in there.

With the support of my close friends, a small community of other trans folk, and various admins all across this campus, I feel really good about being here.

And isn't being here the most important part?

Agender at Duke

Hello, everybody. I’m the second person who’ll be writing a post for the lead up to Transgender Day of Remembrance. I don’t identify as Transgender, but I do identify as gender nonconforming. Agender, to be specific. The point of this blog post is to try to give a slight peek into how that affects my daily life.

So I’ll start with the bad parts. First things first, the reason I feel that I have to post this anonymously. Gender variance is far less accepted than sexuality, so though I identify as queer also, I feel the need to keep this part of my identity private. Simply put, I do not feel that I have the desire or strength to put up with an endless stream of questions that pry into some of my most personal feelings and attempt to make me justify my identity. It’s something I’ve observed from the outside many times, that though many people feel entitled to ask deeply personal questions of all LGBTQ people, this holds true to a greater extent for those of us who identify as gender noncomforming.

Of course, my decision to keep my identity private has its downsides too. For example, just because I avoid referring to myself with gender specific pronouns doesn’t mean that everyone else does. As much as like to ignore it, one of the first things people assume about a person is their gender. So, as long as I choose to not tell everyone how I identify, I will simply have to cope with the reality that people will type me incorrectly. That said, I don’t want to give off the impression that my life is terrible, as I have a lot of good going for me as well.

On the plus side, I am out to a decent group of my close friends. They have made every effort to acknowledge my identity and have accepted it without feeling the need or entitlement to pry more information from me than I’m willing to give. It’s thanks to these friends that I’m becoming increasingly secure and comfortable in my own skin, and for that I’m very thankful.

In which nothing special happens

Kyle approached me to write something for the lead-in to Transgender Day of Remembrance this year, and I agreed right away, but then I struggled to find something to say. It's harder to write about my life, these days. I feel like everything is pretty much normal and I'm pretty much happy, if maybe a little busy. There's nothing that requires deep self-analysis. Even when I reach some kind of important milestone-- October 28 marked one year on testosterone-- I don't feel like it's anything to write home about. I didn't celebrate; I'm not sure I even remembered to make a Facebook post. But, I'm coming to realize that the incredible thing about my life right now is that sense of normality.

All of these delightful things are now totally normal for me:

When I'm thinking about something, I'll often end up with my hands on my face-- and now there's hair there. So I'll absentmindedly brush at my tiny mustache, or the beginnings of my tragic neckbeard, and it's a satisfying feeling. It's all peach fuzz still, but I've gotten used to it.

I wear ties. I'm working in an office several days a week, so I've tied a tie often enough now that I can do it without looking in the mirror, and it no longer feels like a special occasion. It also no longer feels like any kind of sartorial transgression; what else would I wear to the office? I actually have a genuine need for a tie clip, and I can't wait until I can afford one and it, too, becomes normal.

My testosterone injections are no big deal. I switched from a daily gel to a twice-weekly injection a while ago; I don't really remember when, because... it's no big deal. I do have to make a point of scheduling the injections, because I have a friend actually give me the shot, but it's changed a lot since the first time. The first time, we had to dither over how to attach the needle to the syringe, and how to fill it with liquid, and how to find the proper injection site-- and we actually rendered that first needle useless before having the chance to use it, through sheer hilarious incompetence. (Luckily, we had a second.) This time, though, I just brought over my little cosmetics bag of supplies, and we carried on a normal conversation throughout the whole process.

My legal ID says Lawrence on it. It even says 'male'. Every time I get a paycheck or use my DukeCard to swipe into the Green Zone, I see my actual name. At first, it was a huge relief, every time I had to show legal ID for something. Now, it's just normal.

I even pass as cis. Not all the time, but often enough that it's no longer worth remembering each instance-- when I go out to eat waiters will sometimes call me sir, and so will the folks at the grocery store when I can't find something. Twice now, working at ABP, a customer has called me ma'am and I have replied by simply asking, "Did you just call me ma'am?"-- and they just apologized right away, and seemed genuinely confused at their own mistake. (This doesn't always work, but when it does, it's a beautiful feeling.) I tend to pass more in contexts where I speak less, so when I'm just wandering around town minding my own business, it's easy to just feel… normal.

Being trans is definitely still a major part of my identity. I love the fact that my top surgery left such obvious scars, because I like having evidence of my journey. I'm even glad that I wasn't born cisgendered, because I feel like I would be a completely different person if I hadn't had to go through this transition, and I'm so completely happy as the person that I am. But I enjoy it even more because, on a day to day basis, my life no longer feels like a fight.

A Room With A View

I figured I would take a moment to talk about working with The Center for LGBT Life Consulting Group.  This group was tasked with looking at the impact of and opportunities arising from relocating the LGBT Center; a move resulting from the construction and eventual re-purposing of its current home in the West Union. For more information on the renovations, check out the "West Union Precinct Renovation" page - it is a massive project with quite a few moving parts and a vision that greatly increases the usability of current spaces while building new ones. I am definitely excited to see the Pavilion and witness its evolution from hole-in-the ground, to dining facility, to flexible programmable student space.

What I am most looking forward to seeing, however, is the new Center for LGBT Life. First, because I've had a better chance to learn what the current Center does and how well, or poorly, it is configured to provide for the Duke community. And second, because the new Center design reflects well the needs and the hopes of many of the people our consulting group contacted to put together a brief for the Vice President for Student Affairs, the Assistant Vice President for Student Affairs, and their team. When I last wrote...well, I guess when I last wrote I was imploring people to help rob Borja to pay The Trevor Project  - and you can still help!

But the time before that, I was talking about space. Specifically, about the difference between the proposed space for the Center and what several of us on the task force felt was needed. Not long after, the BDU presented a refined set of changes which, if made, would bring the design to or very close to a place where it would satisfy the primary requirements of the different constituents we identified as a committee. And not long after that, Dr. Moneta presented a new design which had completely or very nearly satisfied all those requirements.  The BDU executive board took the new proposal to the membership and, with certain expectations about allowing the LGBT Center staff to work with the architect to make the floor plan as useful as possible, endorsed the plan.

The system worked.  At a place like Duke, there will always be more ideas than resources to make them into a reality; there will be more areas of study than we can possibly pursue; and there will always be more demands for space than we can satisfy.  The question is how to appropriately confer resources - space, funding, staffing, etc - to the many different functions of the university.  And given the complexity of the question, there will just about never be an easy answer.  Would I have been happier with more space?  Sure - but I also recognize the dominoes that begin to fall with each square foot that is moved from one place to another.  Would the Center be able to do with less?  Sure - but at the high cost of lost opportunity for Duke to be a national and international leader in LGBT affairs and lost opportunity to support a growing number of our students through their journey.

Given that, where I think I fall is "temporary contentment."  I see this as a very positive move for the Center and for its missions, and I believe it represents a strong commitment by the university in terms of placing the Center in a highly visible location; the latter, while also taking steps to ensure that people who want more privacy getting to the Center or speaking with staff have a more discreet way of arriving.  Once the Program Coordinator position is filled - and assuming the Assistant Director position is approved and filled - the Center as a whole will be at a pretty good place in terms of fulfilling current obligations and services.  And the Bryan Center - with several gender-neutral restrooms added - will be a more welcoming home for all our students, staff, and guests.

The whole reason I use the word "temporary," then, is that - having seen the incredible growth of the Center's programming and active constituency, I know that with the greater resources afforded by the new Center's layout and location that Dr. Long and the Center's staff and volunteers will be able to begin developing programming and delivering services that, at present, can't even get off the ground due to logistical or temporal constraints.  As those evolve, it will be up to us as a community to keep working with the university to make sure it allocates resources accordingly.

It was a real privilege to serve on the Consulting Group - to meet students, faculty, and staff from across the university I otherwise would never have known - and to work with them on something we all find so very important.  It is also a continuing joy to work at a university that makes hard choices that support its students, especially those who may not feel as supported elsewhere.  Meanwhile, until construction begins, my temporary contentment and I can sometimes be found with a take-out box from Panda or a hot dog from JB's, sitting on the Bryan Center side porch, looking out into the garden and up at the Chapel, and enjoying the fact that soon - very soon - the Center for LGBT Life will have a room with that view...