ATL Pride

For fall break some of my friends and I ventured to Atlanta, Georgia for Pride. It was probably one of the most enjoyable weekends of my entire life. I must admit I expected Atlanta to be homophobic and backward, but instead I was greeted by a lively community, wonderful allies, and friendly people. It was the first pride I’ve ever been to, since the Triangle pride parade always takes place while I’m warming up with DUMB for the football game on Saturday.

I know a lot of people take issue with pride and pride parades. Their reasoning is sound – why should we take pride in something if we believe it isn’t a choice; if it’s biologically predetermined? They argue that pride festivals exhibit the very worst of the gay community – the femininity, the promiscuity, and the alcoholism. I understand why one might think those things – I would have agreed with some of them in the not-so distant past, but now I realize that very little of those arguments hold any water. Sure, pride parades may be displays of “nontraditional” behavior – men in dresses, women in trousers, and everything in between, but I don’t see why that’s anything to be scared of. Instead of judging, we should be applauding our peers for being brave – for being themselves - regardless of whether we choose to emulate them.

In response to allegations that pride parades are merely one, decentralized orgy, I offer this: saying that LGBT people are promiscuous, bar none, is a vast overgeneralization; promiscuity occurs regardless of sexual orientation. One need not look any further than Shooters on a typical night to realize this. The belief that LGBT people hook up more than their straight conspecifics is outdated. Various societal disparities between people of LGBT-status and our straight peers are at work, like oh, I dunno, how about the fact that we’re not allowed to get married and form legally recognized monogamous relationships? It is not far fetched to make the connection between the marginalization of the LGBT community and drug and alcohol use, which are used to escape, however temporarily, from our oppression. (As I noted in my last post, there isn’t anything inherently wrong with hooking up, as long as it’s mutually consensual, so no hate on those who choose not to participate in monogamy.)

This post wasn’t supposed to turn into a social commentary, so sorry for that. I don’t mean to get all preachy.  In sum, pride parades are not simply spectacles for drag queens and dykes, though they are a welcome and much loved part of our community; no, there are also families of all kinds, allies, LGBT-affiliated churches, and parents of LGBT people, all coming together in support of the LGBT community to take pride in who they are and what they believe.

TL;DR: ATL pride is fun, go next year. 

An Open Letter to Queer Duke Women

Firstly, I want to let everybody know about the Bisexual/Questioning visibility campaign that will be happening on campus this semester. We'll be essentially creating posters to raise visibility about Bisexual and Questioning issues. If you want in on this, email me at kab67@duke.edu. Or come to our meeting today at 1:00 PM in Alpine Atrium. Now on to the meat of the post...

Dear Women in the LGBT Community,

Hello. It’s difficult to phrase what I have to say to you, but I’m going to try. It’s the least I can do. I’ve seen and heard many things about how LGBT men at Duke don’t give our women the same respect as they do our men, and what I want to tell you is that I support you. When I came here at the beginning of last semester as an uncomfortable first-year just coming to terms with what his sexuality might mean in the exciting and new environment of college, it was you that made me most comfortable. When made my first probing visit to the Center to see if it was you who spoke to me first. (Specifically, I’m talking about Jen) You struck up a casual conversation, and something about the relaxed tone of your voice and the body language which betrays an introverted nature made me know that I wasn’t alone. That I’m not the only queer person who prefers a book to a social gathering. I have to admit, I looked forward to coming to the Center whenever I could, hoping that you’d be sitting there. You made this place feel that much more like home.

You didn’t just make me comfortable, you made me uncomfortable in the best possible way. (Megan, shout out to you on this section) You made me think about how so much of what I do and think on a day to day basis is inherently sexist. You made me confront my prejudices that I didn’t even realize were sexist. You opened my eyes to the fact that many of my beliefs and actions were inherently sexist and I did not even realize it. You’ve forced me to think, and I can’t thank you enough.

You’ve done so much for me to make me comfortable and to help me progress as a person, so how can I stand by while I hear you express your feelings of alienation in the Community? My best friend is a queer woman, the person who helped me awaken my feminist side is a queer woman, and the person who made me feel most welcome in the Center is a queer woman. As such, it baffles me that some would consider you less valuable as members of our Community. Even more confusing is what I’ve heard from some people, that they don’t see women’s issues as particularly important on the grand scheme of things. Well, I want to tell you that I DO think that women’s issues are very important. I also want to say that I want your input not just on women’s issues, but on every issue. You deserve the same respect as every other member of this community.

Something that’s given me pause of late, however, is the question of how I can help. I know that I find something very wrong with the average treatment of women in today’s society, but I don’t know what to do to solve it. It isn’t your responsibility to have these answers, but I wonder, how can I help? I want to support you in any way that I can, but I’m curious, what should I do? This might just be part of me processing this new feminist impulse, but I’m kind of at a loss for where to go from here. Any advice as to what you would like to see from me, and other men who think like I do, please share.

As for us men, it’s time we stopped being passive about this. I know there’s a lot of us out there that are better than our more sexist peers. So maybe it’s time we stepped up and told people to shut up when they’re being sexist, and correct the incorrect assumptions. Maybe we can try to make it cripplingly uncool to objectify women as purely objects for sexual desire and conquest. That might just be a pipe dream, but I think it’s worth a try.

Fracture Mechanics

First of all – welcome back! I’m honored to get to post on the first day of classes for 2012, and I hope all the returning students, staff, and faculty reading this have an excellent, productive, and fulfilling semester. I’m very much looking forward to the classes I get to teach this semester as well as the different programs with which I get to work. I am also starting to mentally prepare myself for this May; as much as having the opportunity to work at a college is a blessing, there’s also this issue of having a large portion of the population taking off every year…

One of the facets I most appreciate about working at a college is in the diversity of backgrounds and interests of the population. When the mission of the institution is “…to engage the mind, elevate the spirit, and stimulate the best effort of all who are associated with the University; to contribute in diverse ways to the local community, the state, the nation and the world; and to attain and maintain a place of real leadership in all that we do,” there is a wealth of possibilities for how that might be accomplished. The university represents fertile ground for interdisciplinary projects and for the cross-pollination of experiences and expertise that are rarely in such close proximity within the world outside of academia. The university also provides opportunities for different communities to come together to explore the broad commonalities as well as the subtle (and sometimes less-subtle) differences within those communities.

And here, I’m afraid, is where fracture mechanics comes in.

Fracture mechanics primarily covers how cracks manifest and spread through materials. An object that could otherwise withstand a certain amount of stress can come apart due to the propagation of one or more cracks. The forces that exist within the material are re-distributed due to the existence of a flaw. The stresses get concentrated to levels much higher than average in the vicinity of the crack, and a once-cohesive material capable of sustaining much higher tensions is progressively ripped apart as the crack spreads.

I am concerned about the fracture mechanics of Duke’s undergraduate LGBTQ community, specifically within the context of some of the discussions that have occurred on these pages and offline. I worry that there are flaws that are perceived or real, and that there is a tension in the community that is being concentrated on those flaws. I fear that fractures may race across the community and make separate and disconnected what was once mutually supportive. I wonder about whether the energy might be channeled to form new bonds across boundaries or if that energy will end up being expended in accentuating the cracks.

Part of the difficulty I see is this – the LGBTQ community is not some homogeneous entity but rather an aggregation of diverse individuals. And that intra-community diversity is evident even when you start looking at the people macroscopically labeled by the umbrella terms within 'L''G''B''T''Q'. Besides, “LGBTQ” doesn’t even cover the full spectrum – I think the most inclusive alphabetical attempt I have seen is something on the order of LGBTT2QQIAPS - so inclusive, it includes a number, but still not enough. Beyond that, even, we’ve recently read examples of people who have identified with a “label” writing about existing outside of them in different ways. Just as the discrete rendering of the rainbow flag doesn’t completely represent the continuum of colors to be found in a real rainbow, mere assemblages of letters cannot completely represent the continuum of people to be found in community.

Along with that, I wonder how much using the macro labels to posterize groups of people might be helping to promote fracture. “Well, the Purples are doing this, and as an Indigo, I don’t like it!” “Why are we always talking about / do we never talk about being Orange?” My fear there is this: that the worst behaviors and attitudes ever seen in any member of a group then gets codified as The Behavior and Attitude of That Group. At which point, members of that group either get defensive or offended, and the potential for communication – between the groups or the individuals – is diminished or lost completely. It becomes a clash of the stereotypes, and it initiates a crack in community.

Given the above, my deepest hope for the New Year is that the community I will choose to refer to as the Aggregation of Awesome will be mindful of the hazards of fracture mechanics and will instead direct energy towards strengthening the bonds of mutual respect and understanding. Where there are flaws, perceived and real, determine the most constructive ways to identify them, if possible – eliminate them, and if elimination is not possible – at least keep them from spreading and causing more damage. Where there are differences, acknowledge them, celebrate them, and learn from them. Understand that Differences and Flaws are two wholly different things.  Recognize that there will be times when everyone can be together and times when smaller communities are needed to provide a space for exploration, discovery, and affirmation that should be respected and encouraged.

Finally, as we are at a university, seek to educate yourself and teach others in ways that will “engage the mind, elevate the spirit, and stimulate the best effort of all who are associated with the University” – including letting others know ways they can better engage your mind, elevate your spirit, and stimulate your best effort.

Throwback Thursdays: Winter Break Reflections

[Editor's Note: Hey Readers! Welcome to the third installation of "Throwback Thursdays." Every first Thursday of the month we'll feature a post from the BDU Blog, Version 1.0. Sorry for missing December...it happened to be World Aids Day and we decided to go with that, instead. But we're back now, with another reflection on going/being home. Lest we think that we're the first ones to ever experience the anxiety of switching locations, going from out of the closet to in the closet, or coming out now that we're back home, this post demonstrates to us that people have experienced this for eternity. Or, at least, since 2008 (and likely before). If you're in a difficult place over break and need support, please don't hesitate to reach out to the resources listed on Anonymous Posts.]

December 19, 2008

Coming home for winter break isn't what I thought it'd be.

I’ve been at home for a couple of days now since the semester is over. Finals week was surprisingly fun and eventful – it’s interesting how the simultaneous procrastination of college students whose rooms are near each other’s turns them into friends. Someone should write a paper on that.

So back to home. It’s weird being back with family and in the town where I grew up after being out out at Duke for a semester. First, I can tell you that it’s really boring here because none of my high school friends are back yet - Northeastern schools get out after Duke. But it’s also boring because none of my Duke friends are across the hall, a phone call away from meeting me at the Great Hall, or lounging at the Center. I don’t have anyone to talk to here, and it’s more than boring; it’s slightly depressing.

All the conversations that I would usually have at Duke are no-go’s over here. I haven’t – or maybe won’t is the more honest word – come out to my family yet, and like I said before, my friends aren’t physically here. I can’t talk about that person that I saw at the bus stop or at the library, about what someone said or did, or about how my life is ruined because of what someone said or did. (That last one was for you, someone)

In addition to that, I feel cut off from the new friends, specifically the LGBT ones, that I made this semester. We became friends surprisingly fast despite my tendency to embarrassingly choke on water and my fear of talking in large groups. That just goes to show how easily people with similar experiences and backgrounds can bond. I miss the quirky mannerisms that only come out when we’re together, incompatible food preferences, and somewhat constant nonchalant discussion of the subjects the FCC and Duke administration would not approve of.

So what I guess I’m really trying to say in overly high-flown rhetoric and Family Guy-style references is that I really appreciated being at Duke this semester; it was both socially and personally liberating. I’ve never experienced that before and – I know this will sound cheesy but if you know me, you’ll know that I’m a cheesy kind of guy - I’ve only realized what I had at Duke and how good it was after it’s gone (or while I’m on winter break).

Taking A Step Back

I’m going to stop identifying as gay for a while. No, this does not mean I am straight. It doesn’t mean I’m bisexual, and it certainly doesn’t mean that I am NOT gay. What it does mean is that I am unsure of a lot of things in my life right now, and am questioning my sexuality. This also does not mean that I am going to stop going to the LGBT center, or delight in having life changing conversations about sexuality and all the ramifications thereof with Megan in the hallway between our rooms. It does not mean that I will fight any less hard for the LGBT rights and it does not mean that I will not go to the ballot box and vote down amendment one. It DOES mean that, for me, right now, identifying as gay man gives me more pain than happiness in my life. I am 100% secure in my male gender identity, and everything else by which I identify. In fact, the only identity about which I am insecure is my sexual identity.

There is so much that gives me joy in life right now. I love my friends, my family, going to basketball games, the band, hanging out with Round Table, etc. I am so excited to start my classes for second semester, so thrilled to learn more about engineering and get back into the Perkins grind. The only real source of anguish in my life right now is in my sexuality. I have yet to have any type of meaningful, loving romantic relationship with a man or a woman, and this lack of experience only heightens my insecurity. I am aware of the pettiness of this statement, but the lack of romantic love in my life hinders my ability to embrace all the love that is around me. This may not make sense to every reader, but in identifying as gay, I feel an inherent pressure to find a partner, a boyfriend, a lover. Because I have so many issues with my own sexuality identity at the moment, engaging in one of the aforementioned relationships wouldn’t be fair for my future partner, and wouldn’t be healthy for me. I have a lot to figure out before I am ready to accept romantic love into my life. And while I figure all of that out, I am going to stop identifying as gay so that I do not feel the pressure to find a partner, and so that I can fully embrace the love of my friends and family.

Now, I know that not identifying as gay might hinder the movement towards LGBT equality. Having one less member of the community who is secure and actively fighting for Our rights might hinder progress. I may be the only LGBT identified individual that any number of my friends know, and by no longer identifying as gay, I am severing any ties that these friends have to the LGBT community. I am aware that not identifying as gay is inherently selfish, which is why I intend to get my identity sorted out with haste. By taking this (hopefully) shortened leave, I can come back a healthier and stronger member of the community. I give a lot of myself to a lot of different people and different groups and communities, and this is going to be the first holistically selfish thing I have done in a while. For that I hope you readers can forgive me.

I don't want this to sound like I am throwing myself a pity party. I am consciously thankful for all of the blessings and people I have in my life. I am simply trying to step back, get some perspective, and resolve an issue in my life that is causing me pain. My purpose in sharing this with you all is to convey that someone like me, who has been out for a while, still can have questions about his sexuality. I hope that knowing you are not alone in your process of questioning gives you some sort of comfort.

Sports and Community

I was home for five days this Christmas. In addition to being out to many friends in person for the first time and celebrating the one-year anniversary of letting the parents in the loop, I was able to take in a hockey game, an NFL game, and a college hoops contest. I witnessed two quality wins by the Penguins and Steelers and unfortunately saw Wagner defeat its first ranked opponent in 33 years by way of the Pitt Panthers (really Jamie Dixon?). While taking in all of these sporting events, I grappled with the idea of community and what it means to be part of a group. Much of this has to do with my personality.

Steeler fans have recently started this annoying trend where they collectively scream “first down,” as if the PA announcer couldn’t handle the task himself. Every time one of my friends attempts to heckle an opponent or influence the call of a referee, I find myself cowering and attempting to disassociate myself. I went to the Consol Energy Center to watch the Penguins play the Blackhawks. Every time a “Let’s Go Pens” chant erupted, I found myself chomping on peanuts and quietly analyzing the game and discussing strategy with my family.

Granted, I had a fantastic time. I watched world class athletes compete and shared the experiences with the people I love. I sported my team gear, bought food, and invested in the team by buying a ticket. But the Pittsburgh Steelers, Penguins, and Panthers do not need thousands of John McGintys who sit on their hands and refrain from joining in chants. These teams need individuals who instantaneously start clapping their hands when Cha Cha Slide plays. These teams need individuals who freely catapult themselves into screaming or hollering whatever the jumbotron demands.

Am I less of a fan because I choose not to partake in these gimmicks? Sorry I’m not sorry that I think the decibel meter is rigged to make the crowd louder. Am I at fault for not being the loudest, foam finger waving, belligerently intoxicated fan out there? I still consider myself a valuable member of the Pittsburgh sports fan base and community, but at the same time I can’t deny that others in my stead would have a more tangible impact on the game. I can’t deny that I feel more fulfilled when I force myself to join in a chorus of defense chants at a game. I cannot coerce myself to participate all the time, let alone others. Is it enough for me to tacitly support my teams and be a part of a community, or should I be faulted for free riding off of more active and passionate members? . I’d like to think that I can be a quiet fan and still rank my passion for sports at the top of my identifier list. But is that fair, is that effective, and does that produce the world I want to live in?

This post never mentions LGBT or the Duke community, but it has everything to do with them.

Trying Out

[Editor's note: Please welcome Cameron T to the blog!]

Author’s note: I am by no means condoning the playing of/listening to Hannah Montana by referencing one of her songs in this post. I want to make that very clear.

Since my arrival at Duke, I feel as though I’ve been trying out. No, dear reader, I don’t mean I’ve been gallivanting around attempting to join every group on campus in a desperate attempt to satiate my need for social stimulation. I mean trying out for acceptance – both within and without the LGBT community. I came to Duke with many unresolved questions in mind – Should I come out immediately? If so, how 'gay' should I be? If not, then when should I come out? Was it possible to have the *ahem* beeeeest of both worlds – being open with my LGBT friends and yet maintaining some privacy with the rest of the world? #ThanksHannah. In retrospect, I see that those questions were downright silly. Since I wasn’t out in high school, I felt as though my transition into college life would be a defining moment for how I would live for the next four years.

Needless to say, I chose to rip off the proverbial Band-Aid and enter college as an openly gay man. My reception and continuing integration into the community has been interesting to say the least.

Community is a curious word. The dictionary defines it as a social, religious, occupational, or other group sharing common characteristics or interests and perceived or perceiving itself as distinct in some respect from the larger society within which it exists. The LGBT community at Duke is (or should be) about more than the mere fact that its members all identify as LGBT. Isn’t it supposed to be about supporting and loving each other?

One of the things I’ve noticed most about our community is a seemingly ever-present sense of comparison of between individuals’ ‘levels of gayness.’ I’ve heard of people being ‘too gay, ‘not even counting [as gay],’ and being ‘not gay enough.’ During a bus ride a few weeks ago, a member of our community glanced at me, turned to his female friend, and unabashedly stated, “If I ever get that gay, shoot me.” Another member of our community once told me that he reads the BDU blog just to laugh at it. When a community which claims to value diversity mocks its own, it has far-reaching implications. I would even go so far as to say that it gives tacit consent to be mocked by those outside of the community.

So why then is there such factionalism within our little community? If being part of the community is all about what makes us alike, then why do we tend to focus so much on what’s different? Yes, I understand that there is a need for everyone to be an individual, but I am unsure why (completely unmerited and ridiculously contrived) varying ‘degrees’ of homosexuality seem to be so heavily emphasized.

I have to reject the notion that gender expression and sexuality are synonymous. Actions (watching football or liking to shop for example) are not gendered, and do not, in and of themselves, say anything about one's sexual preference. The fact that we think of certain actions as being more masculine or feminine than others is a mere reflection of societal constraints on gender. We need to rethink our notions of what it means to be ‘gay’ – in a community that strives to be as inclusive as possible there’s no room for such internal bias and exclusivity.

Something Greater Than Yourself

[Author’s Note: I’ll try to keep the profundity of this to a minimum]

So, yeah. Coach K is pretty great. You know, 903, history making, the works. I’ll be there for 904 tonight (as well as at the women’s game at noon. Seriously though, ya’ll should check out our women’s team this year. Like, the men’s team is good and all, but our women kick ass WITHOUT taking names. We’re winning the whole damn thing this year, NCAA 2012 champs, calling it right now, so sue me. DWB for life!). This year, in the pump up video before every men’s basketball game in Cameron, a quote from Coach K comes up:

“The greatest pride of all comes from being a part of something you could not have done on your own” -Coach K

Our athletic teams are all playing for something greater than themselves, they play for each other, they play for Duke (you can make the argument that the Men’s basketball team plays more for Coach K and less for Duke, but that is neither here nor there).

Think for a second about religious places of worship (the Sistine Chapel, Masjid al-Haram, even the Duke Chapel). In which religious text does God (god? gods? Gods?) say to Us, “Hey, so like, could you guys build me a massive church? Kthx.” (Hint: none). For me, and for a lot of religious people I know, when you go to a service, you don’t consciously think of the building in which the service is held. You focus on the community, and on your faith. But subconsciously, the enormity of these structures reminds worshipers of just how insignificant they are compared to their community of faith. This may not be the case for all church-goers, but whenever I went (go?) to church, I was always reminded that there are things far more important and larger than I am.

When you look at the night sky at Duke, you don’t see much. Thanks, light pollution, you’re the best. But every once and a while, when I’m feeling less-than-stellar (which, I am displeased to report, has been happening a lot recently) I hop in my car and drive. I get away, far enough away so that I can see the night sky and all of its unbridled beauty. I park, and just gaze into the cosmos, and it reminds me of just how small I am. There is so much else out there; there are things much, much greater than I am. This isn’t nihilistic, it’s refreshing.

My first year at Duke, I was so excited to have a community. I came from a place that had nothing LGBT related, and I did everything I could to get as involved as possible. It was, to an extent, a little toxic. I didn’t allow myself to branch out and explore the other parts of me, of which there are plenty.

This semester, I have ventured onto the other side of the toxicity spectrum. I removed myself almost entirely from the center, and from most of my friends who identify as LGBT. There is some blame to be put on the marching band and vast amount of my time that I give to it for football season. But I could have made time to embrace the LBGT community, so my expulsion thereof was conscious and voluntary. After some self analysis, and a few meetings with Janie, I gathered that a good portion of the problems I’ve been facing this semester come from the relegation of importance I've given to the LGBT side of my identity.

I began to reincorporate myself into the center, and reassessed the value of community. I realize that, for me, much akin to religious buildings or stargazing, involvement within the LGBT community gives me perspective. Going to the center enlightens me, and makes me realize that the issues I am facing I am not facing alone. The collective sum of all Our struggles is more important than anything I can undertake in solitude.

Now, I realize that the center is not for everyone. I also fully acknowledge that my reincorporation won’t solve all (most?) of my problems, but it certainly helps. It’s almost always nice to gain perspective, and involvement in the LGBT community allows me to do that. I’m sure reintegration into the center isn’t what Coach K meant in his speech, but it sure has re-instilled into me a sense of pride and (I’m very pleased to report) quite a bit of Joy.

Also, seriously, support the women’s basketball team. Cameron, 12 Noon, be there. They’re freaking great.

Community

[Editor's note: Please welcome our newest blogger, Jessye!]

Two interests have been constant in my life: environmental activism and issues surrounding the LGBTQ community. Though my studies (and most of my extracurricular work) is comprised of environmentally-related things, my interest in the LGBTQ community and equality issues never wavered. Though in middle school there was no GSA for me to join, when I entered high school the two clubs I signed up for were the Environmental Club and the GSA. When I was looking for colleges, two of my top priorities were that the school have a strong academic environmental program and an active LGBT community. The influences for why I am interested in environmental issues (the music I grew up to, my middle school's environmental club, etc) are abundantly clear, though my interest in LGBTQ issues are less so.

This summer my mom asked why I think I am so interested in being part of the LGBT community. I couldn't answer her. I was able to tell her why I care about LGBT equality issues--marriage equality, same-sex/domestic partner benefits, etc.--(because it is an issue of human rights), but not what makes me want to be involved with the larger community.

The question puzzled me and I meditated on it for a few weeks. The answer finally came to me when I was walking home from an LGBTQA religious service at the JCC near where I was living. The LGBTQA service was composed of about 20 couples, most of whom were in their 50s. The week I attended was a special one as the community was celebrating one couple's 20th anniversary. Outside of pride parades, it was the first time I'd really been in an environment where there were gay couples well over the drinking age. After the service, all the couples were mingling and eating and sharing stories and laughing (it was basically a Fab Friday with older couples). As I was walking home after this experience, the answer came to me.

In the largely heteronormative world in which we live, there is a separation between those who are straight and those who are not and between those who are male or female and those who are somewhere in between (or neither). As such, there is this invisible expectation that if you don't fall into a "normal" gender role, you have to "admit" to it. I once heard a woman say that being a lesbian in a heteronormative world requires that you constantly come out. And whether you are comfortable enough with your sexuality to share it when you first meet someone or not, this expectation is a tiring thing to live with. This expectation, however, is non-existant in the LGBT community because it fosters an environment it essentially rejects the ideology of a heteronormative culture.

Later in the summer my mom and I were sitting on a blanket at the beach and she posed the question again, "Why do you think you like being part of the LGBT community?" This time I had an answer: The LGBT community is unique in that its members share a commonality that is much deeper than one bound by similar interests (say, a typical student organization). It is a community that is bound by being and by an ideology of acceptance and that is founded on the principles of support and love. Why wouldn't I want to be a part of it?

Why Do You Do What You Do?

When I was deciding whether to contribute to the BDU Blog, I asked myself the question that I always ask myself when I am deciding to do new things or need to reflect:

Why do you do what you do?

After much reflection, I came to a conclusion: I want to contribute to the BDU Blog because I love cultivating pluralism.

I love listening to different stories, and believe that the pluralism that is cultivated from doing this makes me a more understanding and educated individual.

Maybe my own story would help you understand what I mean by “cultivating pluralism”:

Even though I am a Tar Heel, I visited this blog a little more than a year ago, at a time when I was cultivating my own courage to come out to my friends at UNC.

Chapel Hill is a very accepting environment and, though I didn’t entirely realize it when I first came to UNC, expressing your identity and feeling comfortable in your own skin is embedded in the Carolina Way.

Even so, I decided to explore via the nifty interweb the LGBTQ resources at Duke. As a first-year, I knew I would be spending a semester at Duke during the spring semester of my sophomore year. Thus, as I was deciding whether or not to come out at Carolina, I wanted to make sure I could also be comfortable with my identity at Duke. My search led me to the BDU Blog.

The blog was amazing…I spent the entire night reading all the posts—I laughed and teared up, feeling so passionate and connected to the strangers who were courageous enough to share their stories to the world.

I decided that very week to come out to my friends at Carolina, and it was one of the most challenging and best decisions I have made in my entire life.

Now, as a sophomore spending his semester at Duke, I look back and look at the importance of this blog to people not necessarily involved or connected with the Duke LGBTQ community. This blog is full of stories, and the sharing of stories gives people hope…it gave me hope a little more than a year ago when I was making a tough decision.

I look back and see how these stories made me feel safe at a time when I was really afraid, and how they made many of my friends and allies at UNC more aware of the LGBTQ environment at Duke.

I look forward and see how I will share these stories with my family when I cultivate even more courage and come out to them, proudly introducing my mom and dad to the support systems in place for members of the LGBTQ environment, a support system they could be a part of.

Finally, I look at the stories I have in the present as a sophomore, one who is proud of his identity and honored to be among those contributing a collective of stories that are reaching communities within and outside Duke.

Through my blog posts, I hope to use my Tar Heel lens to reflect upon by experiences as an out member of the LGBTQ community at Duke; ultimately, I hope to share these stories to people who are willing to listen. (it should be fun, thrilling, and uber exciting—if not any of those, it can give more reasons for Blue Devils to resent us Tar Heels)!

I kind of already have my first story imagined…so get excited!

Till then, be amazed and be amazing, while cultivating pluralism along the way—

Yours truly,
A Tar Devil

Wait. Don't Forget About Me Too!

There's been a lot of conversation about several issues on the blog lately, and I love it. I love it when people engage in thoughtful discussions about topics. I believe that's how you honestly get to know people better than talking about what likes and dislikes you have in common. The funny thing is that I tend to not be a very vocal participant in such stimulating conversation. I like to sit back and let the discussion develop while I formulate my own opinion and sometimes change it depending on certain key points people make. For that reason, I have not been an active participant in many of the discussions that have taken place on the blog. But, I think I am finally able to articulate my opinion. So here we go...

The topic I want to focus on is the sexism that occurs within the gay community. Well, not so much focus on the sexism but a comment someone made about how one gender of the community has a tougher time than the other gender. I, at one point, actually used to believe this was true, but, after becoming friends with women in the community, I was made aware of my fallacy. I think where this difference in thinking stems from is the focus of attention on one's own life and how people can tend to think that their situation is the absolute worst. I think that's a completely understandable mistake to make. I know that I oftentimes only focus on my own life and the problems I go through and how miserable it makes me feel. I sometimes forget that other people have problems that they must work through, too. Just because their problems might not be the same as mine or seem as extreme as I believe mine to be, it doesn't mean that they don't have it just as hard. Because it is just as hard, just in different ways that may not be apparent. So there's that which leads me to the actual gist of this post:

Sometimes, I get worried that we are focusing too much on one subset of the community and letting the others fall by the wayside.

Let me be clear about what I mean. There have been several recent efforts made to shed light on or help the issues that the queer female-identified community faces. I'm all for this. It's great that we are recognizing the women within the community and doing more to make sure that they are better represented. I'm so happy for the women of this community because they are on their way to getting the recognition that they deserve. BUT (here's the kicker), what about everyone else in the community?

Let's take, for example, the awesomeness that is the WOMYN magazine and Women Loving Women meetings. Both of these are such wonderful achievements for the women community. But what do the men of the community have? What about those who don't conform to a certain gender? What do those who are trans get? Nothing, at least not anything that is solely for each specific group. Of course, there is Fab Friday and the blog and the Center itself. But none of that is ever a space solely just for people of one group.

I guess what I'm saying is that I would like to see more initiatives geared towards every subset of the community. For example, even though the community here is heavily male-dominated, I would still love to have a space where I can sit down with other gay males of color who are in a non-historically black fraternity and have a discussion about some of the challenges we go through. Well, not all of that because that would probably just be a group of me, myself, and I, but you get what I'm saying right? There are times when I honestly get jealous of the women in the LGBTQ community because they have their venue to voice their concerns and frustrations about life. But where am I supposed to go? Fab Friday isn't exactly the space to do that. Yes, I'm using the blog to voice my concerns but it's just not the same as talking face to face with people and hearing what other humans (not a computer screen) has to say. Why can't we have a Men Loving Men or a Queers Loving Queers for those who don't identify with one gender or Trans Loving Trans? After all, we all have issues that we want to talk about, don't we?

I'm just worried that we risk alienating others in the community if we focus on only one group, which I'm guessing is maybe part of the motivation for Women Loving Women, to make the women feel more included. There's been so much talk about making the community more inclusive and representative of everyone but it doesn't seem to me that much has been done to make it happen. Let's start by showing that we are looking for ways to make those who feel separated from the community more included. I know it's impossible to please everyone, but I feel like we can at least show that we're trying.

A House Is Not A Home

For anyone that's Facebook friends with me (and I welcome anyone to add me or message me if you just want to talk), you know that I was recently trying to find a plane ticket back home to good ol' Columbus, GA. My mom has been begging me to come back home for some time now and I can't finding reasons why I can't. However, this time, I had no excuses. So I start searching for plane tickets home only to find out that the cheapest one I could find was about $250. This made me happy to no end. I was not going to pay that much money to go home for only a week and I know my mom wouldn't want me to do it either. I think that was the happiest moment I've had in a long time. Here's why.

I hate going back to Columbus, GA. Nothing good came from me living in that city. From the time I entered high school, I always dreamed of leaving that den of misery and going somewhere else where I could just be free and happy to live my life the way I pleased. There's not much to do in Columbus. You can only go to the movies, bowling, or the skating rink so many times before it grows old. Most clubs downtown were 21 and up. Mom wouldn't let me go to one anyway. There was no potential for me to go anywhere with my life. If I didn't get out of there, I knew that I would be trapped in the vicious cycle that has trapped so many other members of my family. I would spend hours on the back porch just sitting, daydreaming, waiting for the day that I would be free. I knew why the caged bird sang. I knew because I sang the same tune.

My family did not help the situation. Being a bastard in the literal meaning of the word, I only knew my mom's side of the family. My Y-chromosome donor's family had it's own problems and I was just another one that ended up swept under the rug. If that wasn't enough family division for one family, my mom's family was also split in two by my grandmother's divorce to my biological grandfather after having a few kids and then marrying my step-grandfather and having more children. The two factions, differentiated by last name, grew to bicker with each other about which kids were true "insert last name" and which ones were just outsiders and who the real siblings were and who the step- or half-siblings were. Both sides began to hate each other and banded together against the other. My mother, being the middle child, tried to find the middle ground the best she could but she only suffered worse for not picking a side. Thanksgiving quickly became my least favorite holiday. The tension at dinner was easier to cut than the turkey my mom cooked. Eventually, I grew used to it and could basically time when drama when break out and who would get drunk and dig up old bones that were thinly covered in an inch of dirt. I kept my little cousins occupied to distract them from the feuding going on down the hallway. My older cousins were old enough to go do their own thing so I was left to watch the youngins. Oddly enough, I was everyone's favorite. Both factions loved me and would give me almost anything I wanted (probably only because I put up with them trash-talking the opposite faction). Somehow, I became the center of everything with everyone pulling me towards their side.

To make matters worse, the entire family is very strict about their religious beliefs. My step-grandfather was a minister until he passed away. I have two uncles that are ministers. My mom taught me to read using the Bible. Everyone in my family was baptized, attended church every Sunday, and was active in the church in some way. I was in the young adult choir. It wasn't long into my middle school years when I realized that something was different about me. I never flirted with the girls. I just became good friends with them. I never tried to kiss them. But there was always some guy that would catch my attention. One of the boys that I just had this longing desire to be around. It wasn't long before I fully knew and realized what that meant. This revelation shook the foundations of my life. Several times, I heard my family say how "those gays" deserve to go to hell and burn for their perverted lifestyles. "It's sickening. They're not natural. They're freaks. God's going to punish them." They're me is what I thought to myself. The star of the family, the one that everyone loved was also the thing they most hated.

School was my only escape. I didn't come out until high school. I had to. I was going insane not being able to tell anyone about who I really was. At school, I could be myself around my friends and not care. I could join the girls in talking about how hot the new guy was or about who really deserved the most attractive guy senior superlative. I was happy for a time. Until I had to go home and face reality. Face the truth, that I did not live in a world where I would be so openly accepted as I was at school (for the most part. There were some exceptions of course). Senior year came and I felt my friends and I growing apart already. We were all going separate ways. I knew I was leaving with no attention of coming back anytime soon. Ready to leave this life behind me and move on to a happier time in my life.

And so, that is why I was ecstatic when I received a call from my mom this morning saying that she didn't want me to pay for a ticket home. I've found my happiness here at Duke. I can finally be free to just live MY life, free of restraints from the family, free of the family drama, free to live and be happy. All of this struck me this morning as I was walking into work and noticed how beautiful the morning was. I wanted to sit down on the ground and just stay there and never move. I used to feel horrible about not going home because I know it's killing my mom. I love her so much and I know she loves me, too, but I just can't put myself through that misery again. I've had my darkest moments back home. I've had my most disturbing thoughts back home.

That's when I realized, that a house is not a home. Just because I spent all of my life in Columbus, GA before coming to Duke, doesn't mean that it's home for me. It's not. It's where I'm from. It's where my family is. It's where I grew up. But it is not my home. Home is where the heart is (yeah, cliche I know, but so fitting here) and my heart is here at Duke. The Duke community here makes me feel so comfortable, so loved, so free. I know I won't be in this amazing Duke bubble forever and don't expect to find anything like this again, but for now, I'm going to enjoy it as much as I can. I guess that I've just learned to not let myself get caught up in the notion that I should want to go home. I've grown pass that. In my mind, I'm already home.

(PS: Sorry this is so long. I started writing and couldn't stop. I hope it wasn't too big of a waste of time for you :P)

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 LGBTQ issues, queer women and Duke! The general goal of WOMYN magazine is to increase the visibility of queer women on this campus.]

Thank you to everyone who participated in last week's poll. The responses were great, and if you haven't voted yet you still can.

We would also like to announce that we are now accepting submissions from alumni in the magazine! After talking with some past queer female alumni from Duke, we think that including alumni voices would bring a really great perspective to the magazine, and it would also serve as a great resource for current Duke students. We're really excited about connecting with our greater LGBTQ Duke community, so be sure to let your graduated friends know they can submit!

(Thanks to Tina Siadak, Summer Puente and Chantel Liggett for collectively coming up with the ideas in this poll. Go team!)

This week's WOMYN poll is:

"Which of these images comes to mind when you hear the term 'queer woman'?"

Click here to vote in this week's WOMYN poll.

Note: the responses are images for this week-you may select more than one option. Also, please note that by including a photo here, we are in no way making a statement about the photographed individual's sexuality.

Image 1, 2 (right) and 3 (bottom)

This week we want to hear your ideas on the stereotypes of queer women and how LGBTQ-identified women are perceived. This poll is meant to spark discussion. Can anybody ever "look queer"? Can the girl making out with a boy identify as queer? Could a softball player be queer? Is the woman with short hair wearing the sweater vest queer? Maybe the woman wearing a sari is queer? Or could it be the girl in the Hollister ad with a man? What does being queer mean?

Image 4, 5 (right) and 6 (bottom)

Why is it that we might associate one image with queer, but not another? Is this a misunderstanding of what it means to be LGBTQ? Let us know what you think by voting, and feel free to respond in the comments section as well if you are comfortable being quoted in the magazine. (Please provide your name and Duke affiliation as well, ex. "Jane Doe, Trinity '11).

Image 7, 8 (right) and 9 (bottom)

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Want to see the results of this week's poll? Pick up a copy of the WOMYN magazine in late Fall when it hits the newsstands!

Have an idea for next week's poll? Let us know, or email us to guest write it!

Want to submit to WOMYN magazine? Click here to look at some ideas of what to submit. (The submission deadline is September 15th.) Check out our website for more information on how to submit, and feel free to email us with any questions you might have: womynatduke@gmail.com.