A student is knocking at your door. She’s seeking your help in starting a new student group. Easy enough, you think to yourself. “What kind?” you ask. “An LGBTQQIA group,” she replies. Your first reaction is to pat yourself on the back for actually knowing what LGBTQQIA stands for — that’s lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, questioning, intersex, and ally — but a close second reaction is a feeling of dread.
There has never been an LGBTQQIA group on your small-town campus, and it’s tricky to talk diversity of any kind in your neck of the woods. Your college itself is small, and even though you love your institution, there are definitely some small minds there, too. Still, you count yourself an ally — a person who is willing to stand up, speak out, and act to create positive change for marginalized people and identities. You tell the brave student you’ll help. But where do you start?
First, know that you are not alone out there. Many small-town colleges are behind the times on diversity issues — especially those relating to sexual orientation or gender identity — but that is changing as more of them realize that such diversity touches rural and urban Americans alike. It’s none too early for this realization, either. The rural United States is becoming significantly more racially and ethnically diverse, and LGBTQQIA visibility in rural places, while tough to quantify, is without a doubt on the rise, according to Mary L. Gray’s book Out in the Country: Youth, Media, and Queer Visibility in Rural America, and other sources.
Just look at the websites and social media of other small colleges in your region. Even in the “reddest” states, you will almost certainly find other fledgling diversity groups and initiatives. Reach out to these groups and ask how they got going. Chances are their members will be more than happy to share their experiences. They will also be eager to share ideas about programming, so you won’t have to invent activities, training, and events from scratch. Another benefit of your networking is that you will then have evidence of what other small colleges like yours are doing to support gay, lesbian, and gender-nonconforming students.
The closet door is opening up slowly in small-town America, so if you do encounter resistance, it’s helpful to have examples of what can be done. Take heart in knowing that there is an energetic and experienced network of allies somewhere near you.
On your own campus and in your own community, you may have visions of a mob with pitchforks and torches waiting to take down anyone talking about diversity, particularly issues relating to sexual orientation and, even more particularly, gender identity. It’s time to retire this stereotype of rural America. Sure, some people assume that anyone who voted twice for George W. Bush or is a gun enthusiast won’t “get it” when local community members come forward and ask for dignity and respect. But you may be pleased and heartened to find more support than you thought possible. In fact, rather than fighting overt hatred, your challenge is more than likely going to be handling people’s clumsy questions, outdated information, and tired stereotypes.
So what are you waiting for? Rather than prep for a battle, arm yourselves with facts, patience, and a smile. Probably the first step is to find other potential allies on your campus. It’s all right (maybe even preferable) if your core group is a ragtag gathering of faculty, staff, administrators, students, and community members. (It is a diversity group, after all, so don’t exclude anyone.)
Once you have a good group lined up, schedule a brainstorming meeting — or, as I like to call it, a dream session. Write down all the amazing programming that you could do; no idea at this point is too ambitious or not right for a campus of your size. For example, you could host an LGBTQQIA 101 educational event or a screening of Out in the Silence, a nicely done documentary profiling LGBTQQIA people in a small town in Pennsylvania. Then pare down your ideas to four or five programs that are practical, doable, and fun, keeping in mind that you need to build membership. (Don’t misread low early attendance as prejudice; pretty much all such groups are small on small-town campuses.)
Even in the ‘reddest’ states, you will almost certainly find other fledgling diversity groups and initiatives.
One possible activity that I strongly recommend is to get your group to attend a conference together. There are many great diversity-related conferences out there, including some that focus specifically on LGBTQQIA identities. Not only will the conference be fun, educational, and identity-affirming for those who attend, but it will also hook members into the planning process and bolster your group’s membership. Attending a conference was crucial in building reliable participation in the biweekly LGBTQQIA group that I started at my rural technical institution, Nicolet College, in Rhinelander, Wis., a couple of years ago. We call the group the Rainbow Hodags. (The Hodag, in case you were wondering, is a green-and-white mythical monster of northern Wisconsin. Choosing a name with some local significance is a good way to go.)
Growing up gay in northern Wisconsin was hard. I was not out with most people in my community, and I lived in extreme fear and isolation. It took a long time for me to work up the courage to come out to anyone, but as I did — to family, friends, and co-workers — I was warmly received. I started to wonder why things were the way they were in my small town. Why was there an unwritten code of silence about LGBTQQIA people? Being out gave me a sense of peace and the realization that I’m just as normal as any of my straight neighbors.
When I decided to attend my local college, I knew that I wanted an LGBTQQIA group there. I began to ask faculty and staff members and fellow students about starting a group, and within a few weeks Rainbow Hodags was born. Other LGBTQQIA people were tired of living in fear and isolation, and many straight allies came forward because they, too, had felt silenced and isolated because of their compassion for LGBTQQIA people. Our reception has been pretty good; people on and off campus have sought us out as a resource for support, and we’ve participated in educational events like a community-policing panel for future police and corrections officers. There was amazing dialogue during that event, and it was impressive how our LGBTQQIA panel and this group of macho, primarily straight young men were able to discuss stereotypes, rethink assumptions, recognize prejudice in the greater community, and see commonality. Great strides can be made toward diversity and inclusion, even at a small-town college like yours.
So don’t fear the student who comes knocking at your door, looking to start a diversity group. And why even wait for a student to knock? We are a diverse nation, yet we’ve neither celebrated nor even recognized our diversity in small-town America for far too long. As an ally, you can help that to change.