Just a little background info: the final assignment for my Women's Literature course was to write a letter that utilized the texts we had read as inspiration. I decided to take the take the assignment a step further and really spend some time reflecting on how I've changed in my encounters with "difference." So this is a little more about feminism, a little less about my queerness, but still relevant. (I think.) Enjoy.
4.30.2012
4.26.2012
Coming Out as a Straight Ally
I have absolutely no problem telling the world that I am a straight ally of the LGBTQIA community. In fact, I enjoy telling people, regardless of positive or negative reactions. Weirdly enough, though, I have trouble "coming out" to members of the LGBTQIA community.
It has to do with my job. Pretty much anyone who hears that I am the LGBTQA Connection Associate instantly believes that I, therefore, must be either a lesbian or bisexual. At the very least, I must be closeted, right? I get it. "Why would a straight, cis-gendered person have the audacity to apply for this position? She's snatching an opportunity right out of the hands of someone who is actually LGBT!"
I know that there are people who think that I am not qualified to work with the LGBTQA Connection. The hardships and adversities of the LGBTQIA students on this campus are not my own, and that experiential factor is crucial in fostering relationships with the students who I will be working with. There are bound to be students who do not or will not see me as an accessible resource.
It has to do with my job. Pretty much anyone who hears that I am the LGBTQA Connection Associate instantly believes that I, therefore, must be either a lesbian or bisexual. At the very least, I must be closeted, right? I get it. "Why would a straight, cis-gendered person have the audacity to apply for this position? She's snatching an opportunity right out of the hands of someone who is actually LGBT!"
I know that there are people who think that I am not qualified to work with the LGBTQA Connection. The hardships and adversities of the LGBTQIA students on this campus are not my own, and that experiential factor is crucial in fostering relationships with the students who I will be working with. There are bound to be students who do not or will not see me as an accessible resource.
The Ins and Outs of Coming Out
If you were to ask me about my sexuality now, I'd immediately tell you what I identify as, as well as having a few pithy nicknames for it. (Example: Oh, I'm an equal opportunity employer.) However, it hasn't always been this way. Coming out to my family was a much longer and more awkward process.
My mother was the first to know, and like all serious conversations, it happened in the car. I don't know about other families, but most really serious revelation conversations happen in the car. I came out to my mom at 14 in the parking lot of Friendly's, I kid you not. Looking back at it now, it seems like something out of a movie: me and my mom sitting in the parking lot, me turning to her and saying I had something to tell her. Her response was one of tentative acceptance, saying she needed some time to think about it. She's 100% supportive now.
Fast forward to Christmas Eve my senior year of high school. My sister and I are driving home from church. We're at a stop light and I turn to her and say, "Sarah, I'm bisexual." Good thing we were stopped at the time, because she turned to me and said with shock, "Really? But you're so boy crazy." I remember laughing a little.
Telling my dad was the much more dramatic, sit in the living room on opposite pieces of furniture kind of scenario at the end of high school. The jury's still out on how he feels. He pretty much ignores it. I've come to accept the fact that until I actually bring a girl home, it's kind of a non-issue for him.
Moral of the story: Make sure the car is parked. You don't want your family driving off the road when you come out. Coming out to people might seem like a momentous, impossible task, but it's not. Do it on your own schedule. The right people will be accepting of you.
My mother was the first to know, and like all serious conversations, it happened in the car. I don't know about other families, but most really serious revelation conversations happen in the car. I came out to my mom at 14 in the parking lot of Friendly's, I kid you not. Looking back at it now, it seems like something out of a movie: me and my mom sitting in the parking lot, me turning to her and saying I had something to tell her. Her response was one of tentative acceptance, saying she needed some time to think about it. She's 100% supportive now.
Fast forward to Christmas Eve my senior year of high school. My sister and I are driving home from church. We're at a stop light and I turn to her and say, "Sarah, I'm bisexual." Good thing we were stopped at the time, because she turned to me and said with shock, "Really? But you're so boy crazy." I remember laughing a little.
Telling my dad was the much more dramatic, sit in the living room on opposite pieces of furniture kind of scenario at the end of high school. The jury's still out on how he feels. He pretty much ignores it. I've come to accept the fact that until I actually bring a girl home, it's kind of a non-issue for him.
Moral of the story: Make sure the car is parked. You don't want your family driving off the road when you come out. Coming out to people might seem like a momentous, impossible task, but it's not. Do it on your own schedule. The right people will be accepting of you.
4.23.2012
A Peculiar Observation
Ursinus and Diversity. How often have we all heard those two words in the same sentence? Probably more than collective sanity and empathy can bare. Recently, I was considering the diversity issues that we all hear so much about. I was looking on the website and trying to understand what Ursinus is actually doing, as they often claim they are doing a great deal to confront these issues. Just on the website something became obvious. The College has recently made a serious effort with Queer issues. Which is wonderful. Clearly, I benefit and partake in these efforts as a contributor to this blog. The reason it struck me as so interesting is that it seems, and this might not be the way it was meant to seem, that the College has chosen Queer issues as their diversity issue. What I mean by this is that College has pointed to Queer issues as the issue they would like to address under this umbrella term of diversity.
This might seem controversial, but as a person who benefits from this peculiar privilege, I think it is necessary to point out. Take for example Queer House. I have sat in on the meetings with Residence Life to get the house reinstated for next year, and generally know a decent amount of the effort to attain and retain the house. In the same meetings, there is always discussion of the other houses as well, which includes the Africana and American Studies house. This house is just as important and serves the same purpose Queer house does, only it is a space for students of color on our campus. The College has clearly given some sort of preference in the case of SPINT, and it is important to discuss when it comes to understanding the efforts to make Ursinus a "diverse" community and diversity discussions generally.
This might seem controversial, but as a person who benefits from this peculiar privilege, I think it is necessary to point out. Take for example Queer House. I have sat in on the meetings with Residence Life to get the house reinstated for next year, and generally know a decent amount of the effort to attain and retain the house. In the same meetings, there is always discussion of the other houses as well, which includes the Africana and American Studies house. This house is just as important and serves the same purpose Queer house does, only it is a space for students of color on our campus. The College has clearly given some sort of preference in the case of SPINT, and it is important to discuss when it comes to understanding the efforts to make Ursinus a "diverse" community and diversity discussions generally.
4.17.2012
A Minority Hunger Games?
Hello yall! How are we doing on this fine day in April? The weather is absolutely "fabulous!" Sorry, I couldn't help myself. I actually have a tendency to avoid using that word because of the harsh stereotyping that goes along with it.
Currently, there has been much growing excitement for the first Ursinus College Hunger Games, to begin this Thursday! It is going to be an exciting game, and interesting social experiment to see alliances formed and broken, friends betraying friends, and who will come out on top! Jen and I were just picking out the lovely ribbons that each Tribute will be wearing, it is going to be so exciting!
What if there was an actual Hunger Games that was run by some sick monkey where tributes were selected from districts that were the different minorities of society.
District 1: Queer Community
District 2: Asian Community
District 3: Arab Community
District 4: Latino Community
District 5: Black Community
District 6: Dungeons & Dragons Community
District 7: Computer Nerd Community
District 8: HALO Community
Ok, so they arent all on the same level, but you get my picture. It would be an interesting social experiment to see which groups teamed up with who, and who came out on top! (A dominant-type gay man of course!)
However, I think it might be more beneficial to everyone if all the minorities were to band together to kick butt and show people that prejudice is really a terrible edifice which causes so much death and destruction between a species where we need to learn to love and accept one another.
Didn't see that twist did you??
Keep it real!
Zack
Currently, there has been much growing excitement for the first Ursinus College Hunger Games, to begin this Thursday! It is going to be an exciting game, and interesting social experiment to see alliances formed and broken, friends betraying friends, and who will come out on top! Jen and I were just picking out the lovely ribbons that each Tribute will be wearing, it is going to be so exciting!
What if there was an actual Hunger Games that was run by some sick monkey where tributes were selected from districts that were the different minorities of society.
District 1: Queer Community
District 2: Asian Community
District 3: Arab Community
District 4: Latino Community
District 5: Black Community
District 6: Dungeons & Dragons Community
District 7: Computer Nerd Community
District 8: HALO Community
Ok, so they arent all on the same level, but you get my picture. It would be an interesting social experiment to see which groups teamed up with who, and who came out on top! (A dominant-type gay man of course!)
However, I think it might be more beneficial to everyone if all the minorities were to band together to kick butt and show people that prejudice is really a terrible edifice which causes so much death and destruction between a species where we need to learn to love and accept one another.
Didn't see that twist did you??
Keep it real!
Zack
4.15.2012
Letter Not Sent (August 2008)
In August of 2008, I sat down at my family's living room computer and for the first time, told a girl Megan, my ex-girlfriend from many years before, "I'm gay."
It was a computer at which, in years past, I had exchanged e-mails with middle-aged men about sex and sexuality. Some of them had been good to me, offering advice and the vaguely comforting sense that they'd "been there." Most of them were unhappy, unattractive in that they were still sitting in the darkness of their own living rooms. Hiding.
It was also a computer at which I had constructed fake internet personalities that suggested the kind of boys I wished I had been. Boys braver, more boyish, more likable than I thought myself. You are what you are not. The boys who I pretended to be were those whose energy was directed outwards rather than inwards. Boys who explored what lay under the stones they found in the woods rather than what lay beneath those less-tangible things they found within themselves. They laughed often; swung their arms when they were excited; grinned broad grins; spoke countless words to crowds of attentive people rather than writing to an audience that consisted only of the self.
"My eyes look back, they self-examine," I wrote at seventeen in my journal. "They look for solid answers. My mind wanders back to... the fact that I'm always alone..."
I was lonely and alone among friends, writing to a girl who lived in California simply because she existed in the realm of elsewhere, in a world other than my own. She was less of a threat to the reality I wanted to preserve, where I could be silently gay forever: "If I could go my whole life without telling anyone what I'm about to tell you, I would"-- a sad statement not only because I desired such a fabricated existence, but also because my internal ache was becoming so unbearable that my speaking out, my coming out, was perceived as inevitable in spite of such a desire.
"I think I trust you more than anyone," I write to Megan. It's a lie. She was the intended recipient of this letter, the later recipient of another letter saying a more concise and less honest version of this one, but the only reason that I was sending it to her was because I knew she didn't exist in my day-to-day world. I could live with her never speaking to me again: "I'm not ready to lose a friend over it." I just needed to prove to myself that I could do it. I was in the bottom of a well looking up at daylight, realizing where I was and where I could be. This letter unsent signifies the beginning of my ascent.
In one of the paragraphs most unusual for to me read now, I mention my friend Jacob, who I've known longer than I've known any of my friends, and how I might not blame him if he found out and never spoke to me again. Six months or so after this, I will have come out to him. He will be driving his car and I will be riding shotgun, waiting until this moment exactly because that way I do not have to look him in the eye. My hands tremble and fumble in the dusty heat exhaled from the vents of his station wagon. In the year that follows before we leave for college, we will continue to have these conversations, confessing things we had imagined we would never speak, assigning words to ideas thought inarticulate. We are infatuated with our own reluctant audacity. We drive through the darkness of the night, through the sleeping suburbs we've grown up in, then in-between the tall buildings of a city we're only beginning to know and then we ascend the mountains. We reach the peak and for a moment we can see through the dead winter trees the persistent quivering light of Harrisburg. Here we are not still going up, not yet coming down; we are all potential energy, like a book on the edge of a desk. We are glowing. And then we are not--we are descending, weaving through the trees which are no longer trees but shadows pierced by headlights. We are breathless, returning.
It was a computer at which, in years past, I had exchanged e-mails with middle-aged men about sex and sexuality. Some of them had been good to me, offering advice and the vaguely comforting sense that they'd "been there." Most of them were unhappy, unattractive in that they were still sitting in the darkness of their own living rooms. Hiding.
It was also a computer at which I had constructed fake internet personalities that suggested the kind of boys I wished I had been. Boys braver, more boyish, more likable than I thought myself. You are what you are not. The boys who I pretended to be were those whose energy was directed outwards rather than inwards. Boys who explored what lay under the stones they found in the woods rather than what lay beneath those less-tangible things they found within themselves. They laughed often; swung their arms when they were excited; grinned broad grins; spoke countless words to crowds of attentive people rather than writing to an audience that consisted only of the self.
"My eyes look back, they self-examine," I wrote at seventeen in my journal. "They look for solid answers. My mind wanders back to... the fact that I'm always alone..."
I was lonely and alone among friends, writing to a girl who lived in California simply because she existed in the realm of elsewhere, in a world other than my own. She was less of a threat to the reality I wanted to preserve, where I could be silently gay forever: "If I could go my whole life without telling anyone what I'm about to tell you, I would"-- a sad statement not only because I desired such a fabricated existence, but also because my internal ache was becoming so unbearable that my speaking out, my coming out, was perceived as inevitable in spite of such a desire.
"I think I trust you more than anyone," I write to Megan. It's a lie. She was the intended recipient of this letter, the later recipient of another letter saying a more concise and less honest version of this one, but the only reason that I was sending it to her was because I knew she didn't exist in my day-to-day world. I could live with her never speaking to me again: "I'm not ready to lose a friend over it." I just needed to prove to myself that I could do it. I was in the bottom of a well looking up at daylight, realizing where I was and where I could be. This letter unsent signifies the beginning of my ascent.
In one of the paragraphs most unusual for to me read now, I mention my friend Jacob, who I've known longer than I've known any of my friends, and how I might not blame him if he found out and never spoke to me again. Six months or so after this, I will have come out to him. He will be driving his car and I will be riding shotgun, waiting until this moment exactly because that way I do not have to look him in the eye. My hands tremble and fumble in the dusty heat exhaled from the vents of his station wagon. In the year that follows before we leave for college, we will continue to have these conversations, confessing things we had imagined we would never speak, assigning words to ideas thought inarticulate. We are infatuated with our own reluctant audacity. We drive through the darkness of the night, through the sleeping suburbs we've grown up in, then in-between the tall buildings of a city we're only beginning to know and then we ascend the mountains. We reach the peak and for a moment we can see through the dead winter trees the persistent quivering light of Harrisburg. Here we are not still going up, not yet coming down; we are all potential energy, like a book on the edge of a desk. We are glowing. And then we are not--we are descending, weaving through the trees which are no longer trees but shadows pierced by headlights. We are breathless, returning.
3.27.2012
"Is coming out as bisexual easier than coming out as homosexual?"
I kid you not -- that was a question on C's "Sexual Identity Across the Lifespan" exam. And I kind of went into a frenzy over Facebook on her status when I found out.
First of all, the question was NOT open-response -- no essay, no paragraph crammed into a too-small space. It was multiple choice. I mean, how can someone predetermine right and wrong answers to such an incredibly subjective question? Did you not think that this question was subjective?
Oh, but let's look at the options C's class was given ... As well as C could recall: (A) Yes, because their parents have hope that they may become straight. (B) Yes, because of reactions and stereotypes. (C) No, because their parents have hope that they may still become straight. (D) No, because of reactions and stereotypes.
I have a few discrepancies with these answers.
First of all, the question was NOT open-response -- no essay, no paragraph crammed into a too-small space. It was multiple choice. I mean, how can someone predetermine right and wrong answers to such an incredibly subjective question? Did you not think that this question was subjective?
Oh, but let's look at the options C's class was given ... As well as C could recall: (A) Yes, because their parents have hope that they may become straight. (B) Yes, because of reactions and stereotypes. (C) No, because their parents have hope that they may still become straight. (D) No, because of reactions and stereotypes.
I have a few discrepancies with these answers.
3.21.2012
Queer Spaces
Two RAs
patrolling Main Street on the weekend before spring break began entered Schaff,
or Queer House, to find the common room overflowing with residents and
non-residents dancing, many of them visibly intoxicated. A number of students
had been seen coming and going from the house, a quiet house where parties and
alcohol are prohibited, and the
RAs could hear loud music through the open windows, so it was their duty to
investigate. They entered Schaff, passing by a few students huddled outside
smoking cigarettes in the cold and found what was very clearly an unregistered
party.
It
wasn't just a party, but my 21st birthday party, and even though these RAs did
what they had to do and instantly shut it down, taking names and checking IDs,
it remains in my mind one of the best birthdays I've had in years. I was
surrounded by people I had come to care for in my three years here at Ursinus,
slathered in various colors of bright body-paint, hand-prints left by my
friends. In the corner over a window was the house's vivid rainbow flag and it
occurred to me that, unlike I might have years before, I didn't feel like I had
been caught at the scene of a crime in its presence.
When the Past Comes Back ...
A few weeks ago over spring break, I went to visit the high school I graduated from to do some teacher observations. Cool right? Well, maybe not. As I walked in I felt a flood of emotions. After all, I hadn't even set foot in the building for almost two years. I was excited to see my old teachers of course, but there was something else too. Something I hadn't really felt in a long time.
It was that tightness in my gut, the drying of my throat. I was on edge. It was the same feeling I used to get most days in high school. I thought, "This is absurd. I'm a big girl. I can handle this. I don't even know anyone who goes here anymore. What could I possibly have to be afraid of?" As the day went on I continued to feel off as I watched kids interact with each other the way all high school kids act.
Then I heard it. One boy said to another, a friend of his, "Aw dude, you're such a fag." The teacher, within earshot, said nothing. I cringed. That's what it was. All the hate and ignorance I experienced in high school and the toll it had taken on me as a teenager was still there. It all came rushing back to me as if it were yesterday. That one little three letter word made the bile rise up in my gut. I wanted to curse him out right there and then. Project four years of bullying from my mind to his. I wanted the teacher to admonish him, tell him what an ignorant little ass he sounded like. I wanted to believe that someone would do something.
Being back in that building and having those feelings I used to have everyday come back full force makes me realize what a weight I used to carry around. Now that I'm older (but not by much), I can look back at my old self and conclude that next time (and there will be many next times) I'll stand up for at the very least, myself. My ability to cope with what has happened in my past has gotten better. It has served as a reminder the power that words can have in triggering what has happened to us.
For those who feel the way I have felt, it gets better. It will get better.
It was that tightness in my gut, the drying of my throat. I was on edge. It was the same feeling I used to get most days in high school. I thought, "This is absurd. I'm a big girl. I can handle this. I don't even know anyone who goes here anymore. What could I possibly have to be afraid of?" As the day went on I continued to feel off as I watched kids interact with each other the way all high school kids act.
Then I heard it. One boy said to another, a friend of his, "Aw dude, you're such a fag." The teacher, within earshot, said nothing. I cringed. That's what it was. All the hate and ignorance I experienced in high school and the toll it had taken on me as a teenager was still there. It all came rushing back to me as if it were yesterday. That one little three letter word made the bile rise up in my gut. I wanted to curse him out right there and then. Project four years of bullying from my mind to his. I wanted the teacher to admonish him, tell him what an ignorant little ass he sounded like. I wanted to believe that someone would do something.
Being back in that building and having those feelings I used to have everyday come back full force makes me realize what a weight I used to carry around. Now that I'm older (but not by much), I can look back at my old self and conclude that next time (and there will be many next times) I'll stand up for at the very least, myself. My ability to cope with what has happened in my past has gotten better. It has served as a reminder the power that words can have in triggering what has happened to us.
For those who feel the way I have felt, it gets better. It will get better.
3.20.2012
What's in a Name?
So maybe I'm in the minority, but when I think about gay right's and all that I have very mixed feelings. On the one hand, yes, I want equal rights, I want to be treated like everybody else, I want to be accepted, I want to be allowed to marry the man I love, but on the flip side, I just want to be thought of as normal. I know this isn't very clear, so I will try to explain.
Why do we have to have titles? Terms? Why are we gay, bi, straight, lesbian, homosexual, heterosexual, transgender? Can't we all just be? This is the idea of utter acceptance which I desire for the future. A world where no one discriminates because they don't know what discrimination is. Some activists are so about putting "I'M DIFFERENT" in someone's face that it turns people away. And I'm not trying to say my way is best either, I just like to think that the more subtle route is the more sound route, and thus the longest lasting. I wish I could see a world where we were all just humans. Some might say that is boring, though I feel we could then begin to focus on the positive differences between us all.
These are just some thoughts...
Why do we have to have titles? Terms? Why are we gay, bi, straight, lesbian, homosexual, heterosexual, transgender? Can't we all just be? This is the idea of utter acceptance which I desire for the future. A world where no one discriminates because they don't know what discrimination is. Some activists are so about putting "I'M DIFFERENT" in someone's face that it turns people away. And I'm not trying to say my way is best either, I just like to think that the more subtle route is the more sound route, and thus the longest lasting. I wish I could see a world where we were all just humans. Some might say that is boring, though I feel we could then begin to focus on the positive differences between us all.
These are just some thoughts...
3.18.2012
Passivity and Non-participation
I'm somewhat of a hypocrite. It's a symptom of the human condition, so, to some degree, we all are. But I've been asking myself a question, and every fragment of an opinion or discussion or observation that's contributed to this question has only left me with an equally fragmented answer.
If one believes in something -- oh, gay rights, for example -- but is only a passive supporter, does one actually contribute to the cause negatively? Is non-participation a form of adverse participation?
If one believes in something -- oh, gay rights, for example -- but is only a passive supporter, does one actually contribute to the cause negatively? Is non-participation a form of adverse participation?
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.
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.
3.16.2012
One of Those Moments
So, as I mentioned in my first post I have been questioning who I am lately and trying to figure out my sexuality. All of this has left me unsure about who I am, what I like, and basically completely in the dark. However, even though I don't know who/what I am in terms of sexuality at Ursinus I feel like that doesn't matter. The friends I have and Queer House have allowed me to explore myself and not be worried about judgement.
But then I went home for spring break. For my entire life, even now, I present as "straight" (whatever that means) but everyone has assumed I am straight and I still have a great deal of straight privilege. Which is cool, whatever. But I was home for an entire day before my mom just looked at me and said "Are you gay?" A really wonderful thing to be asked by your mom who you only see every few months. I was stunned. The only reason I could come up with that she would ask something like this out of the blue was the night before, she asked me "are there any girls that you are interested in, lately?"
But then I went home for spring break. For my entire life, even now, I present as "straight" (whatever that means) but everyone has assumed I am straight and I still have a great deal of straight privilege. Which is cool, whatever. But I was home for an entire day before my mom just looked at me and said "Are you gay?" A really wonderful thing to be asked by your mom who you only see every few months. I was stunned. The only reason I could come up with that she would ask something like this out of the blue was the night before, she asked me "are there any girls that you are interested in, lately?"
2.17.2012
Meet Our Bloggers: Rachel!
 |
| Grandmother Rachel has fallen and can't get up! |
I'm originally from Thomaston, Connecticut, but now live in Southbury, CT. I did theater and was an active member of my high school's GSA. I came out to my family as bisexual in phases throughout high school. While not everyone has been supportive, my Mom is one of my biggest allies. I've fully embraced my identity as the B in LGBTQA.
My hobbies include knitting, baking (I'm a Grandma trapped in a 22 year old body), watching movies/TV, and spending time with my 2 cats and dog. I'm a huge History nerd and will often write down funny things my profs say in class and quote them. I love to talk, and probably talk too much, but I'm also a great listener and love to that too! Get to know me!
2.16.2012
Meet Our Bloggers: Alexis!
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| Alexis being super stoked! |
My name is Alexis Lynn
Murauskas! I’m 21 years old! I study English and Theatre! I’m super stoked
about everything!
I was born in Rehoboth Beach,
Delaware. I spent most of my life there swimming, dreaming, and singing with my
incredible mom and too many pets. Luckily, when I came out to her as
“different” at the age of sixteen, I was met with love and acceptance. (Fun
fact: My girlfriend Sarah and I were the first out couple at my high school!)
Since then, I have spent an incredible amount of time ruminating on my
sexuality and gender identity. My current conclusion is that I am androgynous
and ambiguous, and this is not a cop-out.
2.15.2012
Meet Our Bloggers: Edwin!
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| Really. Watch Edwin's video. |
Other than to a few friends in high school, I came out in my freshman year. I’ve been lucky — no one has rejected me. Even my old friends from high school, a fair number of whom were guys given to making gay jokes and obnoxiously exclaiming “no homo!”, were supportive and even defensive of me to others, putting to rest years of naïve worrying that being gay meant you couldn’t be friends with straight guys.
2.10.2012
Meet Our Bloggers: X!
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| The Anonymous X. |
2.09.2012
"Why did you apply to be the LGBTQA Connection Associate?"
I thought this would be a good question to start with.
My lesser reasons include wanting to be more involved on the Ursinus campus and needing a job. How lucky was I to find something that I would love and be paid to do, amiright? I also wanted a job that would be a challenge -- not at all like my two glamorous years at Burger King or my current profession of counting things. (I'm an "inventory associate;" it's awesome.)
The remainder of my reasoning is more involved.
My lesser reasons include wanting to be more involved on the Ursinus campus and needing a job. How lucky was I to find something that I would love and be paid to do, amiright? I also wanted a job that would be a challenge -- not at all like my two glamorous years at Burger King or my current profession of counting things. (I'm an "inventory associate;" it's awesome.)
The remainder of my reasoning is more involved.
2.07.2012
Happy February -- Valentine's Day!
I know it has been a bit since I have posted on here, and I am sorry. Technology just isn't something that I have a head for. I hope everyone has had a great 2012 so far! It is really a very exciting year! There are all the prophecies of the end of the world, a new presidential election (which could prove potentially detrimental to all of us with what some might call "questionable preferences" COUGH), and the upcoming holiday of romance. It is a bit silly what this holiday has come to be known for. I admit that I don't even actually know what the original holiday was for, but I know it had something to do with St. Valentine. Now it is an overly commercialized excuse for stores to bombard you with pink, red, and white, in the hopes that you will buy candy, cards, gifts, and flowers for that special someone, or yourself, whatever.
I honestly do not mean to become more cynical with age, but I must say that my boyfriend has opened my eyes to the silliness which we call holidays. They are all about spending money. Too few actually focus on true values, or spending time with friends and family. Where has all the sentimental value gone?
When I first started dating my boyfriend I wanted to get him something for his birthday. He insisted that he didn't want anything. His argument was that why should one particular day be made the designated day to acceptably give presents to a person we love? Well...he has a point. Happened again at Christmas. He really is very accurate in this observation, at least I have come to think so. Should we really wait for one or two days of the year to give presents to people as signs of affection? Do I plan on having some special Valentine's Day festivities with my darling? Of course! But I also want myself, and everyone, to keep in mind that we should show the people that we love just how much we love them always.
Talk to you all again soon!
Zack
I honestly do not mean to become more cynical with age, but I must say that my boyfriend has opened my eyes to the silliness which we call holidays. They are all about spending money. Too few actually focus on true values, or spending time with friends and family. Where has all the sentimental value gone?
When I first started dating my boyfriend I wanted to get him something for his birthday. He insisted that he didn't want anything. His argument was that why should one particular day be made the designated day to acceptably give presents to a person we love? Well...he has a point. Happened again at Christmas. He really is very accurate in this observation, at least I have come to think so. Should we really wait for one or two days of the year to give presents to people as signs of affection? Do I plan on having some special Valentine's Day festivities with my darling? Of course! But I also want myself, and everyone, to keep in mind that we should show the people that we love just how much we love them always.
Talk to you all again soon!
Zack
1.31.2012
Meet Our Bloggers: Jen!
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| This is Jen's face. |
Important things that will factor into my posts:
- I identify as heterosexual, and I'm not about to apologize for it. Therefore, I will be writing from a "straight perspective" within the LGBTQIA community.
- I will write about, not only myself, but two of my closest friends in the LGBTQIA community (who will remain anonymous because their business is their own).
- I
'm definitely going tomight be sarcastic and insulting.
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