Thinking About Safe Spaces

Recently, I've been wondering about why many folks in the queer community (myself included) don't party in Reimert or the main street houses. (To clarify, for those who don't know, these are the Places to Be on campus when the weekend rolls around.) It's not like I don't enjoy parties. Like any good college student, I utilize parties to escape momentarily from the relentlessness of the academic work week. I indulge the idea that there is something important outside the drudgery of career building bullshit by engaging in a little hedonistic foreplay to what I hope will be some kind of life-changing experience. Yet, I rarely feel the need to wander over to the spaces where this exact kind of thing is happening. Why is that?

Of course, there are the obvious answers that these places are notoriously homophobic and uninspiringly heteronormative. We all know that the real reason we turn our Friday nights into carnivalesque binging sessions is to ensure that, by the end of it, we will be going home with another person. Naturally, being queer makes this a much more complex, nerve-wracking process. And that doesn't sound like much fun at all.



On the other hand, why do we only have one Gayla a semester? Couldn't the GSA book Shreiner every other weekend and throw crazy queer parties? One answer is that we simply don't have the means. With so many other incredibly important activist themes we might be investing in, who has the cash to be throwing around on a party?

Another answer is that these spaces aren't ours; they are borrowed from the dominant culture on campus. This matters they way owning your identity matters: it's about asserting your validity. Structurally speaking, only a few groups on campus (Greeks, sports teams) are validated in their right to have an informal "hanging out" party space. Queer house (as a quiet house) only validates us in our right to do homework. Is this important? I think so. This hearkens back to hundreds of years of silencing for not only the queer community, but for practically any underrepresented group you can think of. This is how we make sure the weirdos are quiet and out of the way.

So, I guess what I'm trying to say is that it's not only about just having the physical space. It's about function and ownership. I also want to say (at the risk of sounding ridiculous within a Very Serious Frugal American culture) that festive, informal gatherings are important. Yes, strong communities share a similar mindset and work to create positive, constructive changes. But they also party together. Remember that phrase the personal is political? The queer community didn't start fighting for its right to be validated because we're all just super into politics. Among other things, we got sick of having to hook up behind closed doors while everyone else got to flaunt their sexuality/gender in almost any arena (popular media, the legal system, familial relations) you can think of. Is this important? You bet it is.