If you've been reading my column this year, you are already well aware of the fact that college has been a very formative experience for me, both sexually and socially. Unsurprisingly, then, with graduation biting at my heels, I still find myself in the position to learn and grow at Bowdoin. Today will be the first time in my four years at this school that I attempt to participate in the Day of Silence.
As a freshman, I entered Bowdoin without any prior knowledge that such a day existed. I was well acquainted with the sundry forms of anti-LGBT harassment that takes place in school settings, but completely unaware that there was an annual student action to take action against such behavior. So the concept was novel to me, but I remember thinking it must be a pretty powerful thing to be a part of. Unfortunately, although I was openly queer at the time, I wasn't really comfortable or confident enough with myself to participate. At that time, students were picking up stickers at the Smith Union information desk, which they attached to their clothing to indicate why they would not be using their voice that day. Walking around campus that day, I felt a bit hypocritical as I saw many queers and allies pledging silence while I chose not to participate or mark myself out in that way.
Beyond issues of confidence serving as an obstacle for my participation in the Day of Silence in years past, I also didn't have very much experience dealing with adversity regarding my sexuality. At a school as tolerant and sensitive to LGBT issues as Bowdoin, experiencing actual overt physical or verbal anti-LGBT harassment is not extremely common. Additionally, coming from a relatively non-religious background, my sexual orientation has not caused any serious turmoil in my family. However, in the four years that I've identified myself outside the bounds of heterosexuality, at school, at home, and abroad, I have experienced forms of anti-LGBT sentiment which, though less overt, occur rather consistently on campus, off campus, and in Western culture in general.
Four years isn't a lot of time to have been dealing with LGBT adversity, and Bowdoin isn't the most difficult place in the world to identify as queer. Nonetheless, when I think of the kinds of discrimination I've faced as a result of my sexuality, the word silence inevitably comes to mind. I mentioned earlier that my "coming out" to my parents didn't cause a major uproar in my family. Well, I should also mention that since I made that admission to my family members all mention of boyfriends has ceased and has yet to be replaced with an equivalent. Sure, I didn't really like it when my aunts and uncles used to tease me about having a boyfriend, but at least it was some kind of dialogue.
At Bowdoin, I've come up with different forms of silencing. For instance, I've noticed a certain sense of entitlement to a heterosexual propriety in classes and events on campus. Some people seem to think that because queer issues often deal with sexual themes, they are somehow unfit or less significant than other social issues or topics of intellectual inquiry. I wonder why it is that it seems to go without saying that climate change posters can be hung up all over campus, when media with queer sexual content seems to be met with a significant amount of concern from the administration. I don't argue that climate change is unimportant, but on a campus like Bowdoin, whose student body is very aware of environmental issues and active in this area—don't these banners feel a little bit like they're preaching to the choir?
I apologize if it feels like I'm attacking campus green activists, or if it sounds as if I'm implying that Bowdoin is an oppressive place for queer people. This is not my intention. I do, however, wish to call your attention to some of the ways in which the queer community can be swept under the rug and the subsequent importance of such events as the Day of Silence on our campus. By keeping silent today, I am reminding myself, and those people around me of an important group of people who are not always treated fairly. I want to participate in this day to demonstrate my commitment to ending anti-LGBT harassment to my peers at Bowdoin, just as the Bowdoin community demonstrated to me its commitment to these issues four years ago.