Chase Bennett Mar.

15, 2013 1,449 words

Growing Acceptance Staring at the entrance of the UNCW Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Questioning, Intersex and Ally (LGBTQIA) Resource office, I never imagined that I would walk through its door of my own volition. Ive always considered myself an accepting person and supportive of LGBT rights, but a question arose: how can I honestly support this issue if I havent interacted with the people or the culture? I had no knowledge of what awaited inside the office, only expectations based on common stereotypes and limited experiences. I imagined the proverbial rainbow; being beaten over the head with sass and activism; effeminate males and masculine females. But it was completely different. This office sits in an open, high-traffic corner of the Fisher University Union. Anyone sitting down for lunch or venturing to the bathroom can easily watch the office, and those inside. Together, these factors turn the door into a stage; if you havent made the leap before, you feel as though you should steel your nerves before entering or exiting the office, assuming that you care that others may notice. Room 1037 of the Union is very homey. In truth, this office is a lounge; a safe haven where students can relax. Upon entering, you are greeted by Millicent Millie Knott, the resident social work intern. An oval table serves as the central meeting point. At any given time, students of all orientations congregate around the table eating, working and socializing. During my first visit to the office, The Sound of Music was projected onto one of the walls; its hard to feel uncomfortable as Julie Andrews sings on an Austrian hilltop.

Knott, also known as the Goddess of Light, works constantly to create a positive environment for the office. On Thursday evenings she can also be found here utilizing the strength-based social work theory to empower the support group she runs to make their own rules and focus on their strengths and
Millicent "Millie" Knott

successes rather than the criticisms they face. The result is an

ongoing support network that extends beyond its designated meeting time and location to function as a casual family. One corner of 1037, sectioned off with grey dividers, serves as the office of Amy Schlag, program director of the LGBTQIA Resource office. Schlag, affectionately deemed the allknowing, disembodied voice due to her penchant for interjecting wisdom into conversations from across the divider, bridges the gap between academic and student affairs. While the office provides students with resources and information, it is officially recognized as an academic entity due to its association with gender and social studies. Following a fierce campus-wide campaign during the spring and summer of 2012, the universitys plan to relocate the office from the Upperman Center in the Union to Randall Library was scrapped, resulting in the short move to its current location. As for the characterizations that surround the LGBT community they are largely situational. Chatting with the student congregation, Quintion DeLoach, an office regular, said, Not everyone is a stereotype; not all gay men are fashionable and sassy and not all lesbians are butch. In fact, as with any culture, the stereotypes they are associated with are a point of debate a chance to discuss, laugh and make fun of each other. For me, some of this banter was shocking. Words that I would consider insulting or disrespectful to their community were tossed

around freely within the office, like an inside joke. As one student acknowledged, You take a negative and you make it a positive. In this space it seems to be the norm. Well, arent you all a bunch of crafty queers? No one was upset; everyone simply laughed. The trials that the LGBT community faces are multifaceted, one of them being civil rights. But being located in the religious South, I wanted to know faith played into the lives of these normal, yet extraordinary citizens. In the LGBTQIA Resource office, my only interaction with faith had been spirituality, tarot cards and astrology. However, I was lucky (and privileged) enough to sit down with the members of the up-and-coming vocal trio, Micahs Rule. Micahs Rule is a barrier-breaking LGBT vocal trio based in Wilmington, N.C., covering a wide range of music genres while spreading a Christian message. Their main message: God loves everyone. The group believes that quoting the bible as code is solely of opinion. Micahs Rule contralto, Chastity Scott, believes, [The bible] is taken literally, and not for the allegory that it is. As such, the acceptance of faith-based LGBT musical acts is gradual. Mary Anne Hewett, the groups alto, joked, We were of the opinion that we needed to break away from the mothership and form our own country. Their personal struggles are a reminder of the disconnect between faith and sexuality. Greg McCaw, the baritone and final member of the group, served as a pastor for over 25 years and performed with Gospel groups such as the Gaithers and the Gatlin Brothers. During this time his call to faith was stronger than any differences he felt within himself, so they were suppressed and he lived as was expected. However, his ministry and internal dishonesty did not cohabitate. Upon coming out around age 40, his services were no longer needed, despite more than two decades of devotion. The group considers McCaws case the Dont Ask, Dont Tell of faith.

The recent success of Micahs Rule is a sign of changing societal norms. What started as a post by the Wilmington Faith and Values blog snowballed into something much more: Huffington Post, Salon.com, Washington Post, a blog in Poland, a radio station in Canada. A spontaneous performance at a religious conference in Charlotte, N.C. brought them face-to-face with an enormous wave of support. One listener informed them that [Micahs Rule] was something they had been craving in their church but hadnt seen. Scott claimed, We didnt go to be superstars, it just happened. For now, the group has set a modest goal: to eventually be nominated for a Dove Award the Grammys of Christian music. From rising stars to undergraduates, every story is essentially the same: there is a unique person who deserves to live their life uninhibited. Office assistant and student, Lily Nichelle, affirmed, Were not so different from the straight community. We have likes, dislikes, dreams, aspirations; we get upset; we get hurt; we change our mind a hundred times; we love and we lose; just like the person you see in the mirror. Here, in this office, they are charged with the positivity needed to make it through the day. One evening, I was allowed attend the support groups meeting but only if I participated. I was volunteered to partner another male for an experimental exercise. We moved to the center of the room a few feet apart, made eye contact and began. I just sat there, standing in for the ultimate source of this his unhappiness, essentially a punching bag with eyes. I stared into his right eye, trying to remain as passive as possible while he stared back and let loose confession after confession. All I could do was sit there, stunned, feeling my heartbeat in my ears, watching his emotional control dissolve right in front of me. Our life experiences are similar, yet vastly different. It was more than uncomfortable. Bearing the brunt of such honesty and misery is

terrifying, even if you were in no way responsible; but staring into the eyes of another person as they break is beyond that. I joined the group that evening expecting to hear about LGBT issues; troubles that people of my own orientation had wrought. Instead, I heard about life: the ups and downs, the concerns, the difficulties, the hopes, the accounts of victims culminating in three-word phrases. I am free. Im still here. I did not anticipate how quickly my unease would vanish. The office is safe; it is the open-minded, judgment-free atmosphere fueled by the inhabitants. It is clich, but my experience was eye-opening. It reaffirmed and enforced what I already knew: there is nothing wrong with being different. Different should be normal, should be embraced. When I think of everyone I encountered in the LGBTQIA Resource office, I think of family. They are family at its best: different, accepting and supportive.

Students dine together in the office.

In the beginning, my biggest worry was, foolishly and selfishly, how others would perceive me when they heard or read what I had done. Now, I know that what they think shouldnt matter. Now, my greatest fear is not being able to effectively share what Ive learned; not being able to share it with the dignity and justice that my teachers deserve.