ON THE COVER
Artworks by Yoanna Kollin, Lillian Li, Kio Claudia Villa, Andrew Fiske, Sarah Mueller, Sienna Ramirez, Connor Go
Various LGBTQ+ artists will be showcasing their work on Tuesday, Oct. 11 in front of the 49er Shops Bookstore.
Artworks by Yoanna Kollin, Lillian Li, Kio Claudia Villa, Andrew Fiske, Sarah Mueller, Sienna Ramirez, Connor Go
Various LGBTQ+ artists will be showcasing their work on Tuesday, Oct. 11 in front of the 49er Shops Bookstore.
1250 Bellflower Blvd., LA4-203 Long Beach, CA, 90840
Editorial Office Phone (562) 985-8000 Business Office Phone (562) 985-1740
Christal Gaines Emory
On my first day in Long Beach last year, I walked through East Broadway and felt a sense of security and ac ceptance that I had never felt before.
The sidewalks were painted with rain bow flags and “You are welcome here” stickers were plastered on every door and window. In an unfamiliar city, I felt completely at home.
Growing up in a conservative town, I repressed my queerness for 18 years. I refused to accept myself, and I refused to accept love from the people I wanted it from the most. For four years, I kept the only person I’ve ever been in love with at an arm’s length because she was a girl. Coming to Long Beach opened my eyes to how much I had missed and how deserv ing I was of love.
Since we’re not in school during June, CSULB celebrates LGBTQ+ pride every October. “Outober” here at CSULB, is a time where ASI Beach Pride Events and campus partners host events highlighting LGBTQ+ people. In this special issue of the Daily Forty-Niner, we discuss topics regarding the LGBTQ+ community in Long Beach.
It is our hope that the “Outo ber” edition of the Daily Forty-Niner showcases the many forms of expres sion within the community and en courages LGBTQ+ pride on campus and within ourselves, always. At the Daily Forty-Niner, we will continue highlighting LGBTQ+ people as well as other underrepresented communi ties because their stories matter.
For me and other LGBTQ+ indi viduals, every month is pride month. Our queerness does not end when corporate America removes the rain bow from their logos; our queerness is a intrinsic aspect of our everyday lives. This issue is as much of a learn ing tool for allies as it is an ode to the beauty of the community.
Christal Gaines-Emory Editor-in-ChiefHere at the 49er we acknowledge that the school we report on is located on the sacred site of Puvungna, “the gathering place”. We are on the land of the Tongva/Gabrieleño and the Acjachemen/ Juaneño Nations who have lived and continue to live here.
We also acknowledge the Gabrieleño/Tongva (pronounced: GABRIEL-EN-YO/TONG – VAH) and Acjachamen/Juaneño (pronounced: AH-HACH-AH-MEN/JUAN-EN-YO) as the traditional custodians of the Los Angeles region along with the Chumash (pronounced: CHOO-MOSH) to the north and west, and the Tataviam (pronounced: TAH-TAH-VEE-YUM) and Cahuilla (pronounced: KAH-WEE-YAH) Nations to the east.
We respect and value the many ways the Tongva/Acjachemen cultural heritage and beliefs con tinue to have significance to the living people and remind us about the sacred and spiritual relation ship that has always existed here at what we now call California State University Long Beach.
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Letters Policy: All letters and emails must bear the phone number of the writer and must be no more than 300 words. The Daily Forty-Niner reserves the right to edit letters for publication in regard to space.
Editorials: All opinions expressed in the columns, letters and cartoons in the issue are those of the writers or artists. The opinons of the Daily FortyNiner are expressed only in unsigned editorials and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the journalism department or the views of all staff members. All such editorials are written by the editorial board of the Daily Forty-Niner.
The LGBTQ+ Resource Center welcomes its new queer and trans assistant director, Brenden Thom as Cashatt, who has a passion for self-discovery and the LGBTQ+ community.
Cashatt said their purpose is to support LGBTQ+ students by cre ating an environment where they can thrive and feel a sense of com munity.
“I think that, especially for LGBT students, college is an op portunity for them to really find themselves and become who they authentically are,” Cashatt said.
The assistant director’s goals in clude educating the campus about LGBTQ+ students and intersec tional programming, according to Cashatt. Currently, Cashatt is working with a team on OUTober, a month-long observance of the LGBTQ+ community filled with ed ucational festivities.
Cashatt said, through this posi tion, they hope to build a commu nity where LGBTQ+ students feel truly welcomed and accepted on campus.
With their master’s in educa tion student development admin istration from Seattle Universi ty, Cashatt previously worked for LGBTQ+ centers at UC Irvine and Syracuse University.
“The big piece about having [an LGBTQ+] center that’s really vital is saying ‘you can come here, and you can be who you are, and we don’t have to agree on everything,’” Cashatt said. “At the foundational
level of your LGBTQ identity, we get it.”
Cashatt went through their own self-discovery in college at Califor nia State University, San Bernardi no. Growing up in a rural conserva tive town in East County San Diego called Descanso, they didn’t know anyone who identified as LGBTQ+.
“It was not a place for me to be out or to feel safe about that,” Cashatt said. “I remember going to college and my first year as a fresh man I wouldn’t even look in the di rection of the LGBT resource center because I was so scared.”
Through involvement with cam pus organizations and becoming a Resident Adviser (RA), Cashatt met other LGBTQ+ students further along in their journey.
Cashatt recalled a best friend who was “very out and gay and queer and confident,” which in spired them to be honest about who they were.
“It sounds maybe a little simple in the way it happened, but it was transformational for me as an in dividual,” Cashatt said. “Had I not gone to college, had I not left that town, I don’t know what would have happened.”
In many countries throughout the world, it remains socially and legally unacceptable to identify as a member of the LGBTQ+ commu nity.
Throughout the last several decades, vast progress has been made in expanding LGBTQ+ rights and combating the oppression of queer individuals. In 2022 alone, Cuba legalized same-sex marriage and Spain passed groundbreaking transgender rights protections.
However, many countries and regions across the world remain unaccepting of LGBTQ+ rights. According to the Pew Research Center, Eastern Europe, the Mid dle East and sub-Saharan Africa are less friendly to — if not com pletely intolerant of — LGBTQ+ individuals.
In August of this year, a Unit ed Nations human rights expert warned that LGBTQ+ rights both in the U.S. and around the world are deteriorating.
“I am deeply alarmed by a widespread, profoundly negative riptide created by deliberate ac tions to roll back the human rights of LGBT people,” said Victor Mad rigal-Borloz, U.N. expert.
In addition to a rollback of LGBTQ+ legal protections, many countries are increasing legal pen alties for those who defy gender and sexual norms. It is illegal to be transgender in 13 countries, in cluding Indonesia, Lebanon, Nige ria and the United Arab Emirates.
According to The International Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Trans and Intersex Assosciation, same-sex sexual activities are still consid ered a punishable crime in 70 countries. Some of these 70 coun tries impose the death penalty for such activities, including Yemen, Saudi Arabia, Brunei and Pakistan.
edly encouraging homosexuality to children. Officials for both coun tries announced that the stores are set to face legal penalties for sell ing the products.
Yet, other influential coun tries have trended in the opposite direction and have become more friendly to the LGBTQ+ commu nity in recent decades. South Ko rea, South Africa, Mexico, India, the U.S., Western European and Latin American countries are more accepting of LGBTQ+ rights now than in the early 2000s. Many of these countries now have legal pro tections in place for queer individ uals, with more than 30 countries now allowing same-sex marriage.
The renewed rise of far-right politics in North America and Eu rope are compounding concerns about the continuing erosion of LGBTQ+ rights. Florida’s recent "Don’t Say Gay" law and Italy’s continued refusal to allow samesex marriage are just two examples of the many challenges that queer people are now facing in tradition ally accepting places.
According to Human Rights Watch, human rights and LGBTQ+ rights activists are now focusing on combating discrimination and violence based on gender identitiy and sexual orientation. While most countries take an individualized approach to LGBTQ+ rights, activ ists are pushing for an overarch ing set of legal protections imple mented through international law. Such laws would hypothetically prevent countries from oppressing LGBTQ+ people, or at least issue punishment to countries that do so.
To get involved in the commit
However, it does not take par ticipation in same-sex acitivies to trigger governmental wrath. With in the last year, both Saudi Arabian and Qatari authorities seized rain bow-colored clothing, accessories and toys from stores for suppos
To implement these laws or protect LGBTQ+ individuals glob ally, powerful countries and orga nizations — like the U.S. and U.N. — are needed to lead the fight for LGBTQ+ rights. U.S. Secretary of State Anthony Blinken addressed the U.N. in September 2022 to encourage U.N. members to un dertake new efforts to underpin LGBTQ+ rights.
“Any system where some groups are treated as less than simply because of who they are is fundamentally flawed,” Blinken said.
While online dating can be a challenge for anyone, students who identify as queer expressed obstacles they found unique to their own experience.
By Noah Garcia Staff WriterVivian Valoren, a psychology major at Long Beach State, identifies as a transgender, gender fluid, non-bi nary pansexual, and said they have experienced their share of challenges with online queer dating.
“People can ban trans people because they report them for misbehavior,” Valoren said. “I got banned off of Tinder for a day.”
Valoren has found that apps like Tinder are more typically catered to heterosexual in dividuals. Queer friendly apps such as Taimi, OK Cupid and Her cater to members of the queer community by offering more flexible options in expressing one’s gender and sex uality.
OK Cupid, for example, gives users the choice to select from 12 different orientations and 22 different gender options.
Valoren said it was difficult to date online if you’re a ‘specific type’ of queer person, and Jack Bozick, a film major at Long Beach State who identifies as gay, said he has given up on the use of dating apps.
Bozick said the anonymity of dating apps has allowed users to act without any account ability. In his experience, searches for a gen
uine connection have been replaced with the hookup culture.
“It’s just the Wild West, it’s like nobody cares,” Bozick said. “Anyone can do whatever the hell they want and be as rude or vulgar or whatever as they want.”
Dan Dao, a mechanical engineering major as CSULB, said there was a noticeable issue on dating apps with people putting little to no effort into their profile.
“Like 90% of these profiles are blank,” Dao said. “Where’s the effort?”
He has found that this type of profile is the norm for most apps, with users putting minimum effort and focusing on a quick fling rather than a long-term relationship.
“I’m a full-time student and I work full time so, I’m going to stick with the apps only because it’s a little easier right now,” said Jennifer Elliott, who is a gender fluid English Major in creative writing. “The apps are an annoyance, but I think a necessary annoy ance.”
While Elliott would prefer to find some one to bond with in a physical setting, they understand how ingrained dating apps have become into youth and queer culture. And whether they or the rest of the Queer com munity like them, these dating apps will con tinue to stick around.
For Alfredo Heredia, who identifies as queer and nonbinary, being proud of their identity is important not just for themselves but for their future stu dents.
As an English literature major in Long Beach State’s teaching creden tialing program, Heredia aspires to teach English at the high school level, a time when many students are finding themselves.
“If we’re open about our identities in the classroom, it provides students a sort of framework to say ‘Okay, it’s al right to exist this way because there are people within my community who are not being actively harmed while still being active, contributing members of society,’” Heredia said.
Heredia’s concerns stem from the reactions parents and faculty may have. They wonder if parents will be comfortable with someone who is out wardly queer and nonbinary teaching their children.
For music education major, Mi chelle Smirnoff, who identifies as queer, parent reactions are also one of her major concerns when thinking about her future as an educator.
She believes authenticity is crucial to an educator’s relationship with their students, but wonders if it might “turn parents off” or if they will struggle to see past just that.
Some of Heredia’s strategies to combat this are norwmalizing queer identities and undoing preconceived notions of who non-binary people are.
As intimidating as being outwardly queer can be for educators, doing so can help their students feel represented and safe.
One way they plan to normalize queer ness is through how they decorate their classroom; they envision their future desk having multiple pride flags, espe cially those less often represented like asexuality.
As important and impactful as their queer identity is, Heredia and Smirnoff also believe it is important to acknowl edge how intersectionality affects them as people and educators.
For Heredia, as a Latinx person from the working class, being a part of historically marginalized groups has impacted how they view education and why they decided to pursue a career in it.
“It really puts into perspective pow er structures, how the education sys tem fits into those power structures and how it can be subverted to work against repetitive systems that exploit marginalized people,” Heredia said.
Having never had a female band director herself, Smirnoff said it is not only her queerness but her gen der that she hopes will make a differ ence for her students.
However, being cisgender and white, Smirnoff emphasized the importance of not only
recognizing her privilege but the re sponsibility that comes from it for her to be vocal about her identity.
“The many privileges that I have demand that I am out and proud… I think that even if I was a little nervous, if that’s not worth standing up for, I don’t know what is,” Smirnoff said.
Whereas Smirnoff feels pretty con fident about her sexuality right now, she said it is still unclear how comfort able she will feel when outwardly ex pressing it in her future classroom.
Smirnoff joined the Queer and Trans Future Educators club on cam pus, a resource that she said would help with navigating the unknown by connecting her with folks who have gone through the same experience.
As someone who has navigated through some of these challenges, as sistant professor in the department of political science at CSULB Kathryn Perkins has some advice for upcoming queer educators.
Perkins is a trans queer educator, and what she has learned from nav igating coming out—first as gay man and years later as a trans woman—is that the best thing to do is be
vulnerable, be confident and find your people.
She said being vulnerable will not only make you more approachable but will give you the confidence you need to lead the classroom.
“Vulnerability is a superpower, you know, the more that you show of your self the more people can see your light, the more that people can see how much you are embodying yourself, the more that that makes other people want to do that too,” Perkins said.
Because this vulnerability is im portant, Perkins encourages queer educators to be loud and proud about identity—always assessing one’s en vironment first to make sure it is safe to do so—and that as scary and intimi dating as coming out can be, it is much more rewarding and fair to oneself to “be who you are.”
“My biggest advice is to be brave and shine bright, trust that by doing that, you are going to be met with a lot of love and validation by people who can recognize that [you] are creating that kind of safe space for everyone,” Perkins said.
“
The many privileges that I have demand that I am out and proud... I think that even if I was a little nervous, if that’s not worth standing up for, I don’t know what is.
Michelle Smirnoff Music Education Major
What students may be unaware about, is that Counsel ing and Psychological Services, also known as CAPS, has a Trans Care Team on campus.
“The Counseling and Psychological Services Trans Care Team was created to support and advocate for transgender, non-binary, and gender diverse students at CSULB. We provide gender affirming mental health services, letters of support for surgery, and help with referrals,” as stated as their mission statement on their website.
Services provided from CAPS includes case manage ment, brief therapy and letter of support.
To schedule a counseling appointment students can call (562) 985-4001 to make an appoint ment or visit CAPS in Brotman Hall in room 226. csulb.edu/student-affairs/counseling-and-psy chological-services
Cafe is provided as a
for students to feel inclusive
supportive in the community.
cafe
facilitated by Dr. Lauren
a CAPS psychologist. Stu dents can stop on Mondays from 3:30 p.m. to 5:00 p.m. in the Multi cultural Center (FO3-Room
Queer Student Alliance (QSA) is the largest group on cam pus for queer students to be part of regardless of sexual orientation and identity.
“it’s a pretty large community and they hold like various meetings and events and stuff and it’s a good way for students to connect with other LGBTQ+ students to make friends and just bond,” said Sky Na, former board member of QSA and current president of Trans Empowerment and Advocacy.
Across campus, not far from the library, the LGBTQ+ Re source Center is located at the Student Cultural Resource Center and was created “to serve the greater campus community by striving to create a safer and supportive environment for all LGBTQ+ students, faculty and staff, as well as the community members who identify as allies,” as stated on their website.
Na explained that it is a safe space for students to hang out and be themselves.
a fraterni
has been around since
and has provided students within the LGBTQ+ community
have an opportunity to part of a frat that shows diversity and respect. Students can find more
CSULB Transgender Empower ment and Advocacy, also known as CSULB TEA, is a space made
for CSULB students
identify as non-binary,
gender-noncon
gender queer, question
else
CSULB
Students can take part in a variety of clubs and resources on campus to help feel supported within The Beach community.
SONNY TAPIA | Daily Forty-Niner
A motorcyclist passes through the rainbow colored crosswalk at the Broadway and Junipero intersection.
RENZO POCASANGRE | Daily Forty-Niner Harvey Milk and Promenade Park, off Third Street, was beautified and gives the small urban space a vi brant new change of scenery.
In honor of “Outober” cel ebrating LGBTQ+ pride at Long Beach State, the Daily Forty-Niner will be hosting an art exhibit with the theme of “identity.” The pieces will represent the artists and their relationships with their queer identi ties.
The artists come from a variety of majors, ranging from studio art to pre-nursing, and they all have skills they look forward to showcasing at the exhibit. The featured pieces will in clude digital art, paintings and sculp tures.
Three of the artists being highlight ed at the Outober exhibit are Kio Clau dia Villa, Sienna Ramirez and Sarah Mueller.
Kio Claudia Villa is a fourth year drawing and painting major who uses she/they pronouns. Villa has been creating art for their whole life. After teaching art to inner city stu dents through a nonprofit called “Af ter-school All-Stars” for eight years, Villa wanted to continue pursuing art at CSULB in hopes of becoming an art professor in the future.
“I adore teaching, but I also adore creating,” Villa said. “Creating art that represents alternative lifestyles and the intricacies of different gender iden tities is really important to me.”
Villa is a physiologically intersex person, meaning that her body does not naturally create progesterone. They are also bisexual, polyamorous and disabled, so being able to repre sent their identity through art has been an eye-opening experience for them.
“Being able to portray my identity as well as the identities of others gives my art purpose,” she said. “I hope through the Outober exhibit, my art helps to bridge the gap between the LGBTQ community on campus and those who aren’t in the community. I want other students to understand the significance of identity and why it’s crucial for all identities to be recog nized.”
Second year studio art major Sien na Ramirez, who uses she/they pro nouns, is also passionate about repre senting her identity and the identities of those around her through her art.
“The goal of most of my art is to trigger a feeling, any feeling really,” they said. “In the end I hope finding familiarity in my pieces allow the view er to feel seen and not alone in their struggle. To see their feelings on paper as a visual representation will hopeful ly give some comfort. and if not then I hope someone finds it cool to look at.”
Ramirez has been creating art for around five years and enjoys multime dia art as well as mixing artistic me diums through her work. Having the opportunity to explore herself through art has allowed Ramirez to learn more about herself.
“My piece relates to the idea of identity in the sense that it was a rep resentation of my mind space before
I had allowed myself to explore my identity and sexuality. Something I want to point out in my art is my use of color. Back then, the bright colors of the LGBTQ+ flags had taunted me,” Ramirez said. “Now I identify as bi sexual, but I’m still on the journey of self-discovery.”
Another artist that will be featured
in the Outober exhibit is second year studio art major Sarah Mueller who uses they/them and she/her pronouns.
Mueller has always been artistically in clined, realizing in high school that art wasn’t just a hobby but a passion they wanted to pursue.
“I have been creating art ever since I was a kid, it was something I had al
ways enjoyed but not something until later years that I decided to pursue,” Mueller said. “I’ve always loved seeing art in the public eye, seeing people’s awe and amazement over something you poured so much time and effort into is the best feeling, at least to me.”
Coming from a conservative town in Indiana, Mueller has enjoyed the LGBTQ+ representation in Long Beach, but feels that the small queer community in her hometown allowed members of the community to uplift each other more.
Mueller faced obstacles in Indi ana because of their artwork depicting LGBTQ+ love. At their high school, they were unable to participate in an art gallery because they portrayed homosexual relationships. Although this was a challenging experience, it brought Mueller closer to the queer community in Indiana.
“Here, the community is so big which gives an advantage to voices be ing able to be heard and change to be something that is achievable, but I al most feel like it is harder to form con nections due to the vast population. I almost feel more connected to those back home because we are still trying to fight for inclusion in the public eye,” they said.
“Long Beach is doing a great job with LBGTQ+ representation, but we need to remember that places still exist where inclusion and representation are not easy to obtain.”
Mueller feels that labeling themself constricts their identity, so they identi fy as queer to describe both their sex uality and gender. As a genderqueer person, their identity is an extremely important part of Mueller’s life.
“Identifying as a genderqueer in dividual in a world which only reads gender as black and white is a very hard pill to swallow,” they said. “Soci ety has no right to perceive me at first glance or any individual for that mat ter, but it is the harsh reality we live in. This piece reflects the anger and frustration I feel being trapped behind the black and white barrier, but in the background is seen lively colors trying to break through to the foreground to reveal my true identity.”
Mueller hopes that their art will invoke strong feelings within the audi ence and create a mutual understand ing between artist and viewer.
Each of the 15 featured artists at the Outober exhibit have a unique style and individual story. The exhibit will provide them the opportunity to express themselves through art rep resenting their identities within the LGBTQ+ community.
The Outober Exhibit will take place on Oct. 11 from 11:30 a.m. to 2 p.m. in front of the 49er Shops Bookstore.
As much as I love my Latine background, I absolutely hate our religious per spective on samesex love.
Being raised in a Catholic household, I would go to church up to five hours a week. I would routinely hear about how the plague that is homosexuality would land you a one-way ticket to hell for eternal damnation.
I was easily indoctrinated with this homophobic rhetoric and personally internalized it to the point that I ulti mately became homophobic myself at such a young age.
It took me being confronted, due to this newly adopted ideology, to realize the irony of the Catholic exclusion of gay people within the religious bound aries of forgiveness.
In that moment of realization, I was able to find the courage to look deeply within myself and admit the single most liberating and terrifying thing I ever had to say out loud, “Oh my god, I’m attracted to women.”
I looked in the mirror with tears in my eyes genuinely believing that I had committed the ultimate sin by finally accepting the truth. No matter how much I could try to repent, I would never be able to go to heaven, and that was a very traumatizing concept for my eleven-year-old self to understand.
Thankfully, I was always sur rounded by accepting friends and peers whom which I was able to fully be myself around, but I knew I had to revert back to my old self whenever I was home.
I decided I would never come out to my parents because I could not accept the thought of them looking at me with disgust, so for the longest time I didn’t.
However, the summer going into my senior year of high school, I wanted to attend the San Francisco
Pride Parade to openly celebrate my queer identity. I wanted to escape the heteronormative environment I lived in, even if it was just for a day.
Being heavily sheltered in high school, mother repeatedly asked me why I wanted to attend this event as badly as I did. In the midst of a heavy verbal argument, I yelled, “Because I’m pansexual! I want to go because I’m gay.”
After a long moment of silence, she began to tell me that I wasn’t queer, that I was severely confused. She said that I only identified as such because it was trendy to say so.
Although I felt as if her words were a bullet that had penetrated right through me, but I didn’t expect any thing less from her. After that, I have tried to explain my sexuality to her on two separate situations, and each time she stated the same thing.
I was comfortable enough to tell her every single one of my straight relationships, but I had to keep my relationship with my ex-girlfriend a secret because her closed-minded
Sam Farfan Staff Writerbrain couldn’t comprehend the idea of her daughter being capable of loving women.
Now that I have been with my boy friend for almost three years, the idea that it was a phase has only been fur ther cemented in her mind. She isn’t the only one who thinks that either.
On multiple occasions, I’ve been told that I was straight, and that I have no right to identify with the LGBTQ+ community because I am dating a man. The invalidation of my sexuality has been an ongoing theme in my life, and I’m done questioning the validity of my identity.
I am proudly pansexual and capa ble of loving anyone despite their geni talia. In terms of gender, love has no bounds and I’m tired of hearing that there are.
Coming out is never easy, and whether or not people accept the truth, never be afraid to own your sexual orientation.
Being gay was never an option for me
How my culture’s ideology and my religious trauma shaped my younger, closeted self into becoming homophobic.
I decided I would never come out to my parents because I could not accept the thought of them looking at me with disgust, so for the longest time I didn’t.
identity in times when things feel or seem unclear to me.
my sexuality is valid, even if I don’t outwardly present it. I am a bisexual woman in a heterosexual relationship and I have been for the past five years.
I started dating my boyfriend back in high school when we were both 15 years old and before I came to terms with my sexuality. So, it’s safe to say that we have gone through this jour ney together, but I still struggle with the validity of my sexuality because of my straight relationship.
About 57% of LGBTQIA+ Ameri cans identify as bisexual, so why does it still feel like such a touchy subject? Regardless, I am always willing to talk about it even if my friends are uncom fortable with asking me. Just ask.
“How are you bi if you’re with a man?”
This is what I normally lead with: I love women BUT I love the man. My man.
Then the conversation rabbit holes into other questions, so, I’ll break it down just how I would for any of my other friends.
I don’t think that because I’ve never dated or officially been with a woman that my identity as a bisexual is any less validated.
No, it was never a phase and no (to other women) I don’t see you as some kind of experiment.
My male friends then typically ask how my boyfriend feels about it and how it affects our dynamic as a cou ple. Quite honestly, it produces such a healthy dynamic for my relationship.
For one, the element of jealousy is not a point of conflict for me, if anything, I am the one looking and pointing out attractive women and showing him, trying to get him to ver bally agree; and because I have that habit, I tend to over-communicate.
I am an anxious person, so, if I find someone attractive and want to compliment them or interact with them, I check in with my partner every step of the way. I annoyingly be rate him with questions like, “Is this okay? Am I going too far? Can this be perceived as disrespecting you?”
comforting response of, “You’re fine, if I was uncomfortable with anything I would let you know.” Because of this form of communication I can say that I have a healthy relationship.
He makes me feel secure in my
I believe that my insecurities re garding my sexuality stems from the biphobia—the aversion or hatred to wards bisexuals and bisexuality—that is prevalent within the LGBTQIA+ community. Although I have never experienced it in real life, it is still prevalent in social media and the online space.
After all, one cannot deny that existing online is a big factor in how we live our daily lives. As much as I’d love to ignore TikTok videos where people say that bisexual women need to get over their “Bi phase,” I can’t. It’s there, the content exists and I see it.
There was a TikTok I saw on my for you page about a month ago, it was a lesbian couple playing the “They’re a 10 but...” game and after some back and forth landed on, “She’s a 10 but she’s bi(sexual)?” To that, the other person says that they would be a two.
It’s small internet commentary like this that perpetuates harmful rhetoric that invalidates the existence of bisexuals and bisexuality.
I don’t want to be one to talk over queer people who are in same-sex relationships but I would like to make it clear that bisexual people are just as queer, and any attempt to diminish or invalidate their identity is wrong.
I understand my relationship status gives me privilege but if I can make anyone who identifies as bisexu al feel seen, heard or validated in their sexuality. To you I say, you are valid.
I’m pretty secure in myself and my sexuality but at times I question the validity of it because I’m in a straight relationship.
Like most people, I’ll never forget my first kiss.
I was a freshman in college, 18 years old, and had a boy in my dorm room. I was nervous and shy, and it took a few minutes before I finally leaned in, his lips touching mine and I felt.... nothing.
No sparks, no butterflies. Just bore dom. How long did I have to keep kiss ing? When could I pull away? I wanted to go to the gym before it closed.
I thought maybe I just didn’t like him. But several years and a few boys later and I realized kissing did nothing for me. I didn’t understand it. I talked about it with friends, and they told me I was supposed to feel something, some thing inside, that would lead the kiss into something more.
But I couldn’t figure out what that something was.
Then I heard about asexuality. An asexual person, as defined by the Oxford dictionary, is “a person who has no sexual feelings or desires, or who is not sexually attracted to anyone.”
Asexuality, as most sexual orienta tions, is an umbrella term for multiple different people. Sexuality is fluid, and aces are no exception.
However, I will tell you it was a struggle to come to terms with my iden tity, and it made dating a heartbreaking experience. I didn’t care for sex, but it felt like so many other people did, and I felt like I was letting them down.
Like I was broken.
At the age of 21, I was in my first relationship, and both me and my boy friend were virgins. Sure, we did stuff, but never the deed. My boyfriend at the time would get frustrated, asking when I was finally going to be ready. We were seven months into our relationship, and
we still hadn’t done it. It was around that mark when I told him I identified as asexual.
“No, you’re not,” he responded. “You’re just figuring it out.”
I would receive the same response from friends and family members.
The constant doubt I kept receiv ing about my own sexual orientation made it harder for me to come to terms with it. I struggled to fit in with the heterosexual community, and I didn’t understand how I was a part of the LGBTQIA+ community.
I felt rejected from both.
I tried to talk about it with my friends, tell them I was ace, and I was almost always met with the same ques tion: How do you know if you’ve never done it?
Spoiler alert: you don’t need to have sex to identify as ace.
Yes, there are some aces who are uninterested or repulsed by the idea of sex. But that’s not all of us. I am asex ual because I don’t experience sexual attraction.
I appreciate attractive people, and I experience romantic feelings, but sex is never involved in those emotions. It’s like seeing a beautiful sunset or painting; I appreciate those things, but I don’t want to have sex with them.
But that doesn’t mean I refuse to engage in the activity, either. Plenty of asexuals will engage in sex for the benefit of their partners, and some even enjoy it.
The journey to understanding whether or not you’re asexual can be a long one, and it took me years of watch ing YouTube videos, reading articles, and visiting websites to understand my own experiences.
In the end, your feelings are always valid. You know who you are, what you like, and what you don’t like. A label helped me understand who I am, and now I wear that label proudly.
As a person who identifies as asexual and spent seven years of her life struggling to come to terms with it, I finally understand my own sexuality.
Styles uses a queer aesthetic to profit off the community without actually being part of it.
Kristina Agresta Staff WriterHarry Styles is one of the biggest artists of our current time, but he is not the LGBTQ+ icon people make him out to be.
Styles has earned a reputation in recent years for being a queer icon, especially in the way he dresses. In December of 2020, the British pop star graced the cover of Vogue in a dress as the first solo male cover star.
The image garnered lots of praise on the internet, especially from Styles’ fans, however many in the LGBTQ+ community, like Billy Porter, felt that the praise wasn’t warranted as queer men, specifically queer Black men, have been dressing outside of the gen der binary long before Styles.
This high level of praise for low effort shows of support is a pattern with Styles. In June of 2021, Insider released an article titled, “9 times Harry Styles was a champion for the LGBTQ+ com munity.” This list included him waving pride flags at concerts, wearing a jersey from an openly gay NFL player, and saying once, “we are all a little bit gay.”
While these small demonstra tions of support are welcomed, many of these instances have very little to do with being a true ally of the community.
On top of these surface-level acts, Styles actively queerbaits his fans and can profit off queerness without having to go through the struggles that most people in the community have.
Recently, a trailer was re leased for Styles’ upcoming film “My Policeman,” where he plays a queer character. Straight actors playing LGBTQ+ characters and being able to profit off the ex ploitation of these stories have been a large debate in Hollywood for years.
While Styles doesn’t owe peo ple information about his person al life, if he is using the ambiguity surrounding his sexuality to get roles in movies and have people buy his alternative beauty brand, Pleasing, he could be profiting off an identity that isn’t his.
In an interview with Rolling Stone, Styles spoke about “My Policeman” and received lots of backlash after saying, “So much of gay sex in film is two guys going at it, and it kind of removes the tenderness from it.”
Many felt that statement was
tone deaf coming from a sup posedly straight actor given that recent films like “Moonlight” and shows like “Young Royals” told stories of gay men without ex ploiting or over-sexualizing them.
Twitter user @mochato theunkn1 put it best tweeting, “I don’t think Harry Styles should have to publicly divulge his sex uality but I do think he deserves criticism for tone deaf statements about a community he refuses to fully align himself with except when it gets him press.”
That is exactly the point. Being private and not sharing personal details or relationships with the public is perfectly fine for celebri ties, but when they use curiosity around their sexuality for press or financial gain they actively are exploiting a marginalized com munity’s want for representation.
Liking Styles’ music and enjoying his message of treat ing people with kindness isn’t wrong. All I ask is that people think critically and understand that as queerness becomes more acceptable, more people will align themselves with the community to gain fandom and money from young queer people.
When it comes to Hollywood, we have gotten some representation for the LGBTQIA+ community, however, these roles are often given to already well-known, straight actors, instead of those that are actually LGBTQ+.
While recognition is good, people from the community itself need to play these roles to not only tell these stories but make sure they are told right and the community feels authen tically represented.
Heterosexual people playing LGBTQ+ characters in movies or series can lead to the perpetuation of harmful stereotypes. People have different aesthetics and ways of expressing themselves; they can’t fit into a certain box. While this might be
clear to someone who has experienced the struggle of not being perceived as “queer enough,” a straight actor may be unaware of the implications of their depiction.
Furthermore, it’s not as if there is a lack of LGBTQ+ folks in the indus try, they are simply not getting these protagonist roles. A clear example of this would be “Love, Simon.” While the movie had a gay director, many LGBTQ+ consultants, and a few queer actors in secondary roles, the protag onist was played by Nick Robinson, a cisgender heterosexual man. With all this effort to provide representation to queer youth, why couldn’t the leading roles be played by openly gay actors as well?
Clark Moore—who played Ethan, the openly gay character in “Love, Si mon”—identifies with his role because he too was the only out gay person in
his high school. Moore can relate to his character on a deeper level while Robinson just can’t.
There are plenty of mixed opinions and perspectives when it comes to this debate. Some actors, such as Darren Criss, feel like they don’t want to take away the opportunity from other actors who are a part of the commu nity. Criss was nominated for the Best Supporting Actor in a TV mini series Golden Globe award and stated he would “no longer play LGBTQ+ characters,” as Criss isn’t a gay man himself. Criss wants to ensure that he isn’t just another “straight boy taking a gay man’s role.”
On the other hand, Ben Whishaw, an openly gay man, stated that “actors can embody and portray anything,” and there isn’t a requirement for actors to be the orientation of the character they play. Whishaw even
went on to say while it isn’t necessary, he does suggest that more straight roles should be given to gay actors in order to have “an even playing field for everybody.”
While I understand Whishaw’s point, I do think it is important to have actors who identify with the LGBTQ+ community playing the roles of LGBTQ+ characters. “Love, Simon” had the potential to represent a great er stepping stone in advocating for the importance of having a gay actor play the leading role, but it is something all movies and shows should strive for in the future. While Criss has set an example of acknowledging his privi lege in advocating for LGBTQ+ actors, directors should also hold themselves accountable when casting LGBTQ+ roles. We are in an era that advocates for change, and I’m hoping in the near future that this can be accomplished.
Allyship limited to one month a year, done merely for publicity and profit, and without constant, genuine commitment to uplifting queer voices year-round does little for the community.
By Maureen Linzaga Staff WriterThe clock strikes 12 a.m. on June 1. Almost immediately, a plethora of brands I follow is seen with rain bow-garnished logos, headers and bios.
Then I recall the summer of 2017 when Skittles released white candies in honor of Pride Month. Standing by the sweets aisle and reading the back of the Skittles packaging that said, “Only one rainbow flag matters this pride.” I had to stop and think, what difference does this actually make for the community and where was this support all year long?
Support for the LGBTQ commu nity in the form of social media and commercialized campaigns sounds great on the surface, but allyship limit ed to one month a year, done merely for publicity and profit, and without constant, genuine commitment to up lifting queer communities year-round is futile.
This phenomenon is commonly called “rainbow-washing.” And unfor tunately, I grow more aware of it every year.
This performative support, such as Burger King releasing “Pride Whop pers,” a normal Whopper hamburger
in rainbow wrapping to make the statement of “we’re all the same inside,” but not taking direct action to help their LGBTQ consumers and employees, does not celebrate queer folk, it merely monetizes from it.
Companies’ attempts of visible “support” similar to this should be backed up with less vague gimmicks, symbols and catchphrases. Rather, they must have more contextualized, concrete missions to make a real dif ference in these causes.
A company that effectively learned from their first attempt at Pride Month campaigns, ironically enough, is also Skittles.
After revisiting their website and pride campaign this year out of curi osity, I was happy about what I saw. Their previously all-grey package now collaborated with six LGBTQ artists to help design its packaging that does show queer creativity and art that cap tures the community’s diversity.
Every pride pack purchased also donated $1 to GLAAD, which accord ing to the Library of Congress is an organization that empowers real peo ple to share LGBTQ stories by holding media accountable for the words and images they present.
Rather than limiting this campaign for a month, this initiative remained on the front pages of Skittles’ web site, in their bios and in other media
throughout the year.
These changes may be ‘bare min imum’ to some, but it’s a step in the right direction that other companies can start to adapt on their own. And to be fair, visible support is lengths better than silence.
Growing up in less ‘queer tolerant’ environments, I always loved seeing more representation across brands and media, especially when June’s Pride Month and October’s LGBTQ History Month do aim to celebrate the self-expression of these communities.
But in today’s world when social media and consumerism, especially are on the rise as students, it is essen tial we avoid equating media posts and obligatory Pride Month themed branding as real action.
Here are some companies that show genuine support for LGBTQ issues and inclusion:
• Coca-Cola - According to Hu man Rights Campaign’s Corporate Equality Index, they have scored 100% in their commitment to LGBTQ employees since 2006.
This score includes having sexual orientation and gender identity nondiscrimination policies that protect their workers, as well as their donations to LGBTQ re sources.
• Levi’s - This company makes
an annual donation to LGBTQ rights organizations such as Outright International, alongside their Pride Collection. Levi Strauss & Co. is also listed in Human Rights Campaign’s “Best Places to Work for LGBTQ+ Equality 2022”
• Vaseline - Along with Unile ver, Vaseline has partnered with Switchboard, an LGBTQ helpline that offers referral services to queer individuals that need assis tance as they experience physi cal, emotional or various issues regarding their sexuality.
• Colgate-Palmolive Co. - Also in Human Rights Campaign’s
“Best Places to Work for LGBTQ+ Equality 2022” list, this company is also committed to providing a safe workplace for queer employ ees and supports the organization Live Out Loud as they provided scholarships for queer youth.
• We must support products, brands or companies that gen uinely amplify queer voices, have official non-discrimination policies that protect LGBTQ em ployees, spread awareness when LGBTQ issues arise globally and directly contribute to these efforts to halt discrimination all year long.