What's up, "You Guys"?

I’ve used the term “you guys” to address groups of people my entire life, regardless of the gender-makeup of these groups. This is just something I’ve grown up doing, so what’s the big deal, right? Well, imagine how you would feel if you’re a man in a group with only other womyn and someone says, “Hey gals, what’s up?” You’d probably be pretty confused, and understandably offended. Imagine, then, how a female would feel in a similar situation being referred to as “you guys”? She may feel marginalized or left out. I admit, most people, womyn included, probably don’t think twice about using “you guys” to address groups of people, but I’ve heard individuals who care about this matter very deeply. See this article for a great explanation of what I’m talking about.

After hearing many womyn tell this story, I realized that I’ve unknowingly been part of the problem for years. I would certainly not identify as a bad person, but that doesn’t mean that I never make mistakes. It bothers me that my casual use of this phrase may have made other people feel left out.

I participated in a “My Truth Panel” a few weeks ago, and cringed each time a member of the audience addressed the panel as “you guys”, especially considering that, out of the 6 members of the panel, only 2 of us were male. What was worse, everybody in the audience was female. Even after I brought this matter up at the event, I heard audience members address us as “you guys” at least another three times.

Clearly, changing something that is so widely accepted is an uphill battle, but I think it’s still worth fighting for. Obviously, I would never tell someone to alter their speech for my own sake—or worse, censor themselves—but I would ask each of you who reads this to step back and think about how your choice of language makes other people feel when they hear it. I challenge you to use a phrase like “you all” or “y’all” to address a group of people in which there is at least one female (or in which there is someone who might not conform to traditional gender norms!). I know it’s hard to change something so seemingly innocuous, but sometimes it’s the small changes that can really add up to something meaningful.

Oh Shooter's

I mean, where else would a story about undergrad life at Duke worth telling occur? After a long week, my friends and I really wanted a fun Friday night on the town that would include some conversation, dancing, and drinking (only for those of age, of course!!!) so—naturally—we chose Shooter’s as our celebration destination. So what happens when you mix two gay guys and two single ladies? Well, your first job as the guy is to protect your lady friends from drunk creepers by performing a standard swoop and block move, but after that the two guys just have to grind together in the middle of the dance floor!

I’m the kind of person who will dance (badly) with just about anyone, no matter his or her gender. I have no problem dancing with another guy in public, and I certainly have no problem getting a little crazy with that guy either. Even though we weren’t making out or anything, it was really funny to watch the faces staring at us; half of the people standing over the dance floor upstairs wouldn’t stop staring at the spectacle taking place underneath of them. Even though the dance floor was packed, we managed to maintain a good two or three foot buffer between us and everyone else on the floor. I’m not sure if they meant to, but pretty much everyone kept their distance—even that awkward drunk kid who up until that point wouldn’t stop trying to grind up on one of the ladies in our group…he had a drink in his hand the whole night but for some reason he still looked so thirsty….

For me, it’s always interesting to do something really gay in public, away from the relative safety of campus. Even though it was at Shooter’s, I think that situation was pretty telling when it comes to showing how people feel about others who don’t conform to the norm. I think a lot of people were probably a little uncomfortable with two dudes dancing like we were, but nobody said anything. People left us alone and let us do our thing, which I think actually shows how mature and accepting the younger generation is becoming. Sure lots of people say some pretty dumb, homophobic stuff, but most of those people don’t make it a habit to get in other people’s way (at least not in my experience). I’m not sure I would have felt as safe as I did that night if this situation had taken place 20 years ago. It’s good that I can dance like that in a normal place instead of having to go to a dedicated LGBT venue/wait for Lav Ball. If it’s okay to be yourself at Shooter’s of all places, we’ve certainly come a long way, right?

Snap. Crackle. Pop.

It’s the end of the semester, so I won’t be writing about anything profound…not like that’s an exception for me or anything.

Over the last few days, I’ve had some really interesting discussions about all kinds of social issues from religion to a Facebook argument regarding the role of women in corporate America. Our discussions were always classy, but seldom uneventful….there’s nothing like being called stupid when you’re arguing about issues that will never be resolved in our lifetime. It really made me think, WHY IS THERE NOT MORE OF THIS?

Why is there not a discussion group that talks about things other than LGBTQA topics? I mean, these discussions happen a lot, but I would LOVE to see something more organized and facilitated. I can’t tell you the last time I had a discussion about religion with a bunch of people I barely knew—like an hour designated to talking about nothing but religion; or women in corporate America; or women in the world; or politics; or all of these things!!!

I’m talking about real deal stuff, like common ground once a week or once a month, stuff. Lets talk about the f-word, the b-word, the n-word, the other f-word, all of that! It could be like a GOP debate, but with smart people! (Lolz I’m a registered independent, but I just like to throw in some provocative stuff)

I would love to see the Center host this kind of thing: A place where people can get flustered, passionate, and even downright angry. A place where all kinds of opinions are valid, but attribution is non-existent. I admit to being ignorant about so many things, but I just can’t find enough people to tell me that I’m wrong…these discussions could fix that!

Can we set this up? Pleeeeeeeease, can we?!

Why You So Bitter?

Let's all just face the truth here. We live in a bubble. This is college everyone. 99% of us are in our late teens/early twenties. Let me show you what this means in concrete mathematical terms. *Disclaimer* I’m an English major so bear with me here!

Horny teenagers/young adults in their sexual prime + confined, homogenous (in terms of age) environment = shit show = college = Duke

Okay, so I used loaded abstract terms thrown in with some mathematical notation; big deal I already said I’m in Trinity, give me a break. My liberal arts ignorance aside, you get the point.

There are so many wonderful people here to look at/drool over/wonder if they're straight or not/get upset at when nobody approaches us.

Many people BECOME sexually active in college, and many of us here have only known the "market" that currently exists around us. There are Duke students and more Duke students, and that's about it. Yeah, you can venture over to UNC or some other school, but let's be honest, it's pretty much more of the same.

My point is this: It's so easy to be bitter because a lot of us are just starting out, but it's also understandable because we don't know anything else. (Did any of you find "love" back in high school? I know I didn't!) Duke is a truly awesome place, and I love it here. I love many of the people I've met in my three years here, and have hated others, of course (insert your “favorite” frat-star or that annoying guy/girl from your freshman seminar here), but I have to step back and admit to myself that this isn't reality. Yes, Duke is obviously a real place where we experience real joy, real sadness, real pain, and real hardships. But this is also an incredibly artificial environment. Good luck making up your own schedule when you get your first job; There is no ACES, there is only your boss and his/her expectation that you will have your shit together every day. Didn’t get your assignment done? Sure you can go ahead and turn it in late—right after you clean out your desk, that is. Unless you go straight to grad school (and even then you probably won't live on campus), all of you--all of us--will have to move on to the real world after we leave the Gothic Wonderland.

Out in the wilderness that is the working world, there are no such things as LGBT centers and Fab Friday’s at which to scope out the, uhhh “talent”, or frat parties where you can try to play “guess the gay”, and realize well before you brown out that it isn’t gonna happen tonight. The ratio of your age group to old people will be very different than the 30:1 you have grown accustomed to here. It will no longer be attractive for you to show up to social events wearing a pinnie you made from a t-shirt that always seemed one size too small on you….At some point, sexy will no longer be how often you go to the gym, but how often you go to work, and without having to wear your sunglasses all day to hide the shame of the night before.

The real world is different because the situations are different, but so are the people. Think back to your first day of high school. Who were you then? You were you, of course. But maybe you weren’t quite as open minded then. Maybe your friends were a little less ambitious than the ones you have now. Maybe you weren’t as secure in your sexuality then…maybe you didn’t even know what sexuality was! “People never change” is a term we seem to hear a lot, and I think it rings true to some degree—I was Kory yesterday, am again today, and probably will be tomorrow. But even though I haven’t changed, I know that each day I pick up something new—some new experience, some new observation—that becomes a part of who I am. Slowly, you begin to think differently as all of these experiences start to stack on top of each other. Maybe people don’t change, but what I know is true is that people develop over time. What we think about ourselves in ten years will be different than what we think now, and how we think about other people will surely change as well. There are always wonderful exceptions, but chances are that the person you can’t get enough of right now will make the future you want to throw up.

I would argue that all of us are on some level pretty immature. No, don’t get defensive, I don’t mean childish. I mean that most of us are still pretty inexperienced romantically. Ever think you were in love? Well, ya weren’t. Love isn’t something you think, it’s something you feel. Trust me, I’ve been down that road before. My first romantic encounter was with someone I really really liked, but definitely not the kind of person I could now see myself with for the rest of my life. It’s easy to think that we lost out when we don’t know anything, or anyone, else. I only came to this conclusion after dating more people with vastly different personalities, values, character traits, etc.

I’ll concede the fact that the gay pool is also far smaller than the straight pool, because it just is. It also sucks that statistically we have to place everyone we meet into the straight category by default. Only when told otherwise can we even begin to feel like this is someone we could approach romantically, and even then that’s a whole ‘nother battle in and of itself. But I categorically disagree with the notion that these facts make it harder for us to find that one special person with whom we will end up. I had an AP English Composition teacher in high school give the class some rather colorful, but still excellent, advice about how to write a quality paper. She told us that she didn’t care how long our papers were as long as we made our point, adding, “I don’t want to have to search through a pile of monkey shit to find the gem.” I loved her analogy so much that I’m going to use it here to help me explain my position. Whether you believe in fate or not, your gem is out there, no matter how large or small the pile is. You’ll have to go through the pain of searching through that pile like everyone else, accumulating a lot of shit along the way. If you are a good person, you will find someone out there who completes you. If you don’t, I promise you it’s not because you’re swimming in the wrong pool. The LGBT community is just as diverse as any other no matter what its size.

Your situation will change. Your responsibilities will change. It doesn’t matter how hard you fight it, these changes are going to affect you in a tangible way.

My advice: Don’t panic over what you can’t control. Don’t panic over what isn’t even relevant right now. Don’t be bitter; just be you. After all, it’s the latter that someone is going to fall in love with.

To Be (Out) Or Not To Be (Out)...

All clichés aside, this is actually a really important question. For those of you who came out to the Faculty/Staff-Student Reception at the center last week, I’m sure you can remember those wonderful speeches we heard about life as an LGBTQ student, professor, job applicant, etc. We heard about the challenges and fears those speakers faced, and still face, when coming out to their peers. For those of you who came out to the Our Lives discussion group last week, I’m sure you can remember how we talked about coming out experiences and how we go about deciding who to come out to and when.

The questions I pose to all of you, regardless of your “affiliation” with the LGBTQ community is this: Why do we decide to come out? When should we come out? Who should we come out to? Do we have a responsibility to come out?

Although each of us could easily give a million different answers to each of these questions, some answers are simpler than others. When should I come out? That’s easy- when I am damn well ready, of course! Well….maybe I’ll never be quite ready, so should I force myself to just start telling people? Maybe the who is easier- the people who matter most to me should know, of course! Well…what if they don’t approve? What will my family think? Will I get kicked out of the house? What about the why question? Easy! Because it’s who I am! I’ve already come out as smart and funny and friendly and blah blah I could go on forever—wait…this is different though. Maybe it’s not such a good idea… What about this “should” question? What the hell does that mean?! What do you mean “should” I come out?

Do you see where I’m going with this? None of these questions have straight answers (get it?!), because all of them force us to consider the consequences of coming out, no matter the situation.

The question I really want to focus on is the Should because I feel like it is this question that we are most likely to neglect. Let’s take applying for jobs as an example. Read this article and tell me it’s “no big deal” to come out on your resume or in an interview.

You might say, “I would only want to work at an LGBTQ friendly employer anyway.” To which I would reply, “Me too!” But in the back of my mind all I can think about is the bad economy and how I may not have the luxury of getting my first choice job. In this instance, it might actually be better to “play it safe” by “playing it straight”.

But then I have to ask the question; do members of the “community” have a responsibility to be out? How else are people going to be exposed to people who are different? If we don’t make an effort to let people know who we are, how can we expect people to change?

I’ll leave my opinion on this issue for a later post, but I’m interested in what you all have to say. So I'll ask again, should we?

Shout Out to the Allies!

[Editor's Note: Please welcome our newest blog writer! Kory, we're thrilled to have you!]

I feel like all I ever see on the local and national news nowadays are articles on the issue of gay rights. The local news is peppered with reports on NC’s marriage amendment, and CNN always seems to have something that was mentioned during a GOP debate or campaign speech. I actually dread reading these articles because of the hate I know I’m going to see in them. I read interviews of people who say all kinds of nasty and completely untrue things about non-heterosexuals, and it really does upset me to know that there are people who actually agree with a lot of those ideas. I’m not naïve, of course; I know there are tons of people who feel so strongly against the idea of gay rights, but there’s something about actually seeing and hearing those opinions that makes me feel so alone sometimes.

This is where the allies come in to the picture. This is when I’m so appreciative to have my friends. I feel so comforted when they ask me those awkward questions, or when they make that inappropriate joke. It means they’re comfortable with homosexuality; it means they want to understand people who are different; it means they care. And then I think about all of these people in the world who feel just as strongly in support of equal rights, and how the numbers are growing everyday.

As I’m writing this, in fact, the straight girl in the room is ranting over how stupid the marriage amendment is. She is actually upset that the legislation passed, and she has nothing to gain or lose over the passage of that amendment. I like how she asks me about how homosexual relationships work, and how I look at anti-lgbt laws, and all those questions that let me know she is willing to take the time to explore differences and understand them instead of defaulting to lashing out and being afraid.

Even though I wish more people would take the time to try to understand our differences instead of going on the attack, those people can never make me feel the way my friends do; the way our allies do; the way anyone who actually makes an effort to stand up for civil rights does.

To all the allies out there—thank you. Thank you for refusing to resort to hate speech and discrimination. Thank you for asking those questions. Thank you for all that you do for everyone who doesn’t fit the mold. Thank you for showing us that you care; you will never know just how much that means to us.