It is no secret on our campus that the U of C’s LGBTQ Programming Office, though led by a team of the city’s best and brightest gays, is perhaps the least gay programming office this side of the Mississippi. With a slew of weekly get-togethers boasting hard-hitting documentaries, notable speakers, and discussion about insistently “real” issues in the homosexual community—rather than, for instance, Susan Boyle, or the girl who was unjustly cut from Make Me a Supermodel last week—the department certainly lives up to the reputation of the university it represents. But where’s all the real gay stuff: The Liza Minnelli Discussion Club, the Celine Dion Karaoke Nights? They’re nowhere to be found, as it happens, because the epicenter of gay culture at the University of Chicago is much too lofty to acknowledge the traditional stereotypes. It is for exactly this reason that I, and a number of other members of the school’s gay community, have kept well away from the office’s stuffy (however well decorated) halls.
The imminent approach of Pride Week, sponsored by Queers & Associates, was my last gay hope. The itinerary billed events like the GenderFuck Drag Ball and a showing of the tranny classic Hedwig and the Angry Inch. But looking back, it appears that Pride Week was ultimately an awkward lesbian/gay guy hybrid. It was less a salute to homosexuality in all its forms than a thinly veiled attempt to maintain the University’s intellectual integrity at a time of obligatory indecorum, while also placating its small and somewhat ungainly transvestite population. The more “colorful” events, customarily the meat and potatoes of Pride Week, were far too few to serve as anything more than garnish: one drag ball, one pre-ball drag class, and a sex workshop “Sustainable Sex”, which had everything to do with the environment and absolutely nothing to do with homosexuality. I’m sure the eco-gays were thrilled, but what about the rest of us? What were we to do with a mural exhibition, a photo gallery, a discussion of gay legislation, and a reading of lesbian freak show Cherríe Moraga’s latest work? Whether or not events like these pique the interest of the student body, they have nothing to do with gay pride; observing a gay mural doesn’t say “I’m proud of my homosexuality” any more than observing Da Vinci’s The Last Supper says “I’m proud of my Christianity.” One cannot express pride by mere passive appreciation; it requires something active, something loud—something gay, if you will.
While there’s no harm in providing the University with thoughtful, sophisticated cultural activities—quite the opposite, in fact—there is great harm in allowing that sophistication to smother the culture itself. Pride Week failed to uphold the irreverent principles of the minority it represents.
Luke Dumas is a first-year in the College majoring in English Language and Literature.
Seriously? This is a pathetic attempt to write about something that the author did not fully engage with. Pride Week isn’t even sponsored or planned by the LGBTQ Programming Office…it’s a Q&A event. The reporter should have done his/her research first.
Pride Week is sponsored by the student group Queers & Associates, not the LGBTQ Programming Office. If you take issue with the events held during the week, talk to the Q&A board members.
While I’m sure the author is attempting to be humorous, his efforts are poorly researched and hurtful. If he wants to see a “Liza Minnelli Discussion Club”or another supposedly ‘gay’ activity on campus, he should spend his resources organizing it rather than insulting the hard work and planning of the Q&A board. As a result, he could make Pride Week more superficial, less useful and utterly boring (which is what he seems to be asking for).
While I’d say that the most noticeably “awkward” element here is that the author (or the editors?) failed at fact-checking, I ask: where were “the rest of you” at the planning meetings for this event? Personally, I’m secure enough with myself to move past the stereotypes, and I’m not quite sure what this author is proposing would make me “proud” of my homosexuality. While rainbow spandex bodysuits are fun, I don’t live my life in them, and they certainly don’t represent the one thing I’d choose to celebrate about being gay if given the chance. Maybe you and your friends have me outnumbered, but if that’s the case, sit down at the table instead of whining in the restrooms.
In addition, I’d like to congratulate Q&A for orchestrating a particularly diverse array of events this year and for their collaborative work with other RSO’s!
I believe Pride Week accomplished many important goals for the campus and general LGBTQ community with events that were also fun. First, events brought members of the community and interested allied students together to get to know each other better. Events like the Night of Noise, bowling, and Day of Service were meant to be fun activities that did not center around sexuality but instead brought students together to socialize and relate on a level that was a safe space for different sexualities but also acknowledged that sexuality is only a part of our identities that makes us interesting and unique people. Also, events such as Sustainable Sex and Cherrie Moraga were aimed at the important task of collaborating with different groups on campus. Alliances across issues is very important for all communities, including the LGBTQ community. Collaborative events bring people together who might not normally meet and provides a good space to build on similarities and not differences. In addition, I think Pride Week as well as Q&A in general is committed to accepting people as they define themselves, instead of encouraging them to conform and further the narrow stereotypes of the LGBTQ community that are prevalent in mainstream society. Asking someone to be proud in such a constricting manner is equivalent to telling them not to be proud. If this author does not feel that his type of gay is represented by campus events, then he is certainly invited to give constructive input and collaborate to plan events that would be more his forte. By claiming that the Pride Week events did not adequately represent LGBTQ pride, the author seems to invalidating the identities of those not like him. This is certainly not a constructive action for the LGBTQ community. I think Pride Week allowed people to embrace their identities as they were, not in some distorted and glorified form, and to make genuine connections around a variety of issues and activities.
I think you forget that most of us at UChicago are nerds, even the gays. If you were expecting a more stereotypical pride week, perhaps you should have ventured to a less “uncommon” school.
I, for one, am not appalled by Dumas’ factual mistake. Pride Week is one of the most visible LGBTQ events on campus; anyone would expect the LGBTQ Programming Office to be heavily involved in it. The fact that it is not is silly and only draws more attention to its lack of engagement with the gay community on campus.
It just sounds like the writer is mad that lesbians and trans people were invited to Pride Week. All the events that he lists as quintessential Pride events are camp. By “camp” I mean events and topics that involve an interest in (and, usually, a parody or critique of) pop culture. Topics like Susan Boyle or Make Me a Supermodel fall into this category. Meanwhile, the things the writer disparages as not truly representative of Pride are these events and topics: “lesbian freak shows” (the writer’s word for leftist lesbians?) giving talks on their books and on their politics, consciousness-raising events, etc. I would argue that while these events aren’t campy enough for the writer, they are still pretty, um, gay. They just happen to be events that are typically perceived of as the prerogative of lesbians and trans folk, and I can’t but help feel that this colors the writer’s opinion.
Apparently, I’ve been doing it wrong this entire time. Imagine my surprise to learn that being gay has nothing to do with my attraction to men and everything to do with miming Liza Minnelli and Celine Dion. Perhaps when I next celebrate black history month with my friends and family, the University could be so kind as to provide hand cuffs and 40′s for everyone who may want to throw a straight thuggin’ party.
As a former Maroon editor, I’m embarrassed that this publication would even consider publishing such a badly thought out and misinformed piece of writing.
I don’t go to this school, nor am I involved with it in any way, but a friend of mine directed me to this poor excuse of an article. Mr. Dumas, as a gay man I find your article highly offensive. It is people like you that keep the stereotypes about homosexuals alive and well. News flash buddy, not all gays are screaming queens, and not all lesbians are dykes on bikes. Open your eyes, expand your horizons, and get a life! How you are allowed to be published is beyond me.