13 minute read
our not our DIGNITY pREfeRenCE ”
from Spring 2023
Trans students on the barriers to a safer CSU
Hi, Professor! I hope that you are well. My name is Benvolio Nichols, and I’m excited to work with you this semester.” Solid start. A little wooden, but maybe that’s because I’m writing this for the two-dozenth time.
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“I wanted to notify you in advance that I use CSU’s preferred name policy.” I use the official title, because we don’t have time to explain how it really shouldn’t be “preferred.” My “required, actually” name is already listed in Blackboard. Still, I’m not taking chances.
“I am not sure which name you will see on your course roster, since that varies depending on which roster you use.” My professors tell me my name is correct in CampusNet now. But that wasn’t true in fall 2020, the first time I updated my chosen name. Like I said: no chances.
“But, if you take attendance on our first day of class, I would appreciate it if you could call on me as Benvolio or Ben.” I would appreciate it if you didn’t disclose my legal name to an entire class. I would also appreciate it if I didn’t have to write this email, which amounts to three paragraphs of “I am transgender. Please be nice to me.”
Even when we take excessive precautions, few trans students have avoided being deadnamed in classes. Lee Barden (they/he), a senior English major, used CSU’s chosen name policy from fall 2021 until spring 2022, when they completed their legal name change. He remembered notifying professors of his name during first-day attendance. “It was awkward having to correct them in front of everyone,” Barden said. “But once they knew, there weren’t any problems the rest of the semester.”
Most professors don’t go out of their way to invalidate trans students. But good intentions do not remove the harm — as sophomore psychology major Iris B. Graham (fae/she) reminded me with her story of syllabus-day deadnaming. “My professor didn’t mean anything malicious by it, he was completely clueless as to my chosen name,” she said. “However, in the moment, seeing my deadname on the screen and him calling it out made me want to die for a bit.”
Most professors don’t go out of their way to invalidate trans students — but some do. Senior English major Campbell Pratt (they/them) transferred from Lorain County Community College in spring 2022. They immediately updated their name in CampusNet, and did not have to correct any professors — except for one. “He pulled me aside after class and said, ‘Your name on my class doesn’t match my records. Why?’” The professor interrogated Pratt, demanding to know why he should be expected to use their name in class. The confrontation created a hostile learning environment for Pratt, impacting their course of study. “That professor is why I dropped out of the education program.”
The experience left Pratt disappointed. “He’s a professor of a diversity class. That’s an extra layer of fucked-up that you don’t know how to deal with trans students.” Even if we can’t rely on all faculty to respect our identities, why did a transphobic professor have access to Pratt’s personal information? Pratt confirmed that their previous institution implemented a more robust policy to protect trans students’ privacy. “LCCC was really good about making sure deadnames were under wraps. You shouldn’t even know my legal name.”
WRITTEN BY Ben Nichols
DESIGNED BY Jakob Roberts
Systems at CSU leave us vulnerable enough by disclosing our legal names to professors and advisors. But for student workers, who are often required to use CSU-affiliated accounts for communication, our legal names are also visible to the broader campus community. Pratt uses their CSU Outlook email account in their internship at the Michael Schwartz Library. Currently, the sender display name in Outlook can only be updated through a legal name change, and the email address — “[first initial].[middle initial].[last name]@vikes.csuohio.edu” — cannot be updated at all.
“All of my coworkers through the library know my deadname,” Pratt said. “Thankfully I don’t have to interact too much with the student body, because I’m mostly working with librarians. But when I do outreach to student groups, there’s been confusion. People think my deadname and my preferred name are two different people.”
I’ve dealt with similar confusion as a tutor at CSU’s Tutoring & Academic Success Center. Students request tutoring through Starfish, which displays legal names. When I email my students and coworkers, I use Outlook, per TASC policy. Like most trans people in the CSU community, I do what I can to mitigate this confusion by including my chosen name in the subject line, opening paragraph and signature of every email I send — but when my legal name appears in central locations, my chosen name is easily overlooked.
Before updating my name to Benvolio (Ben for short), I used the chosen name Lynn. During my freshman year, a student I tutored asked me why I went by Lynn instead of my legal name, or multiple shortened versions of my legal name, considering it was a perfectly fine name. In a conversation that went on for ten minutes, I felt powerless to advocate for myself. If the student already expected me to justify my chosen name, I anticipated that identifying myself as trans would prompt more invasive questions. I changed the subject as fast as I could so I could get back to doing my job.
I now share in all emails to new students that I am transgender and the name they see is my legal name. My coworkers at TASC adjusted quickly, and I have felt fully supported by a kind, inclusive team. But trans students are forced to rely on kindness. We are pleasantly surprised by the bare minimum. In its current implementation, CSU’s chosen name policy offers no tangible guarantee that we will receive the same dignity afforded to cisgender students.
In addition to the policy’s limited coverage, nearly all the students I interviewed told me that they felt unsupported while updating their names. Lee Barden and Campbell Pratt both described the name change form available in CampusNet as “simple” and “easy.” This alone represents a welcome change; when I first updated my name in summer/fall 2020, the process consisted of sending an email to CSU’s Office of Institutional Equity and awaiting a response. Still, several students agreed, the process needs to be more accessible. “What I figured out was completely on my own,” Pratt said.
Iris B. Graham was just as frustrated. “I had to do the exact same things over and over again for a chance to get my chosen name updated, and even then, it wasn’t everywhere. I don’t think that queer students should have to jump through tons of hoops to be shown basic human decency.”
LGBTQ+ Student Services has published a resource sheet which explains the steps to using CSU’s chosen name policy, as well as its current limitations. The document is available digitally as “Chosen Names (Student Guide)” at csuohio.edu/lgbtq, and a physical printout is available at the LGBTQ+ Student Services Center office in BH 211. But public knowledge that this resource (or the LGBTQ+ Center itself) even exists on campus often hinges on word of mouth. Further outreach, and further funding, is necessary to ensure that students understand exactly what support they can receive.
Taliesin Lee (they/them/he), a third-year English major, told me that while he uses his chosen name on Blackboard, he has not yet updated any other systems. Even recalling multiple uncomfortable occasions correcting professors and students in-person, Lee said that safety concerns were a deciding factor to continue using their legal name in CampusNet. “I didn’t know whether it was reflected on mail. Like, is this going to out me?” students don’t know what faculty know, and it just feels so affirming to see something like that.”
Lieberth has supported the diverse campus members who use the policy — not only trans students, they pointed out, but also staff members, international students and any person who goes by a nickname — while also navigating the difficulties of using a chosen name themself. As the instructor for a history course, Lieberth’s legal name appears on CampusNet’s course schedule, where it is visible to the whole campus community in searches. CSU’s licensed Zoom accounts also display legal names, so Lieberth uses a free Zoom account which reflects their chosen name. This limits the meetings they host to 40 minutes or less, which becomes problematic within Lieberth’s multiple on-campus roles dealing with sensitive situations.
For commuter students like Lee who are closeted to their parents, the current chosen name policy introduces a double-sided threat: first by exposing their legal names to potentially transphobic professors, and second by exposing their chosen names to potentially transphobic family members. This gap in the policy contributed to a traumatic confrontation for senior English major Kevin Leo (he/him) last spring, when a student organization sent invitations by mail to students’ permanent addresses. The envelope, which displayed Leo’s chosen name, was intercepted by his transphobic mother. This close call threatened his financial security and his housing.
“Thankfully,” he said, “I have a unique relationship with my chosen name and was able to explain the situation in a way that made me look cis. Even though I escaped that situation, I still feel uncomfortable that they know I’m going by a different name on campus. There was a safety to them not knowing and now that’s gone forever.” In response to his near-outing, Leo removed his chosen name from CampusNet and considered resetting Blackboard to display his deadname. Ultimately, he decided to keep his chosen name in Blackboard, but the experience left him uneasy. “I’m sure whoever did this had great intentions, but their decision almost ruined my life.”
Dr. Mitch Lieberth (they/them), director of CARE & Student Support and interim director of Disability and Testing Services, has played a role in shaping the chosen name policy for several years. “Phase One was CampusNet. Starfish is on the horizon. The next projects would be email and Zoom. It’s definitely a priority.” Lieberth emphasized the need for visibility. “The policy should be on all course syllabi. Often,
In Lieberth’s previous position as an academic advisor, they updated student’s chosen names in Starfish using the platform’s existing tools. By adding a note dated 2026, for example, to the records of a student graduating in 2024, advisors can ensure that a student’s chosen name is always displayed prominently online. But this workaround does not replace the need to update the system itself. Lieberth hopes these future changes can be created quicker than the changes that have occurred in the past five years.
President Laura Bloomberg has expressed a commitment to closing the gaps in the chosen name policy. Last May, shortly after her presidency was announced, Bloomberg invited a small group of LGBTQ+ students to share our needs in two meetings. As several trans students described our negative experiences with the chosen name policy, Bloomberg was attentive and empathetic. In recent months, the university organized a series of diversity, equity and inclusion-centered focus groups for campus climate, including one geared towards trans, nonbinary and gender nonconforming students.
I remain optimistic that the administration’s drive for positive change is genuine, and I recognize that change takes time. But until these promised changes become a reality, trans students have to go through life knowing that we are not as safe as we deserve to be. Iris B. Graham had one closing thought for CSU leadership: “Listen to the trans students who go to your university. It’s just that simple.” And what do trans students want from CSU? “Do better,” Taliesin Lee said. “Make it easier for us to exist.”
Preferred name: A name a person uses in daily life, which is not their legal name. Anyone, cis or trans, can have a preferred name. If your legal name is Christopher and you introduce yourself as Chris, you use a preferred name.
Legal name: The name which appears on a person’s legal documentation, such as driver’s license, passport or financial records.
Chosen name: The name a person has chosen for themself, which may be a preferred or legal name. Anyone can have a chosen name. Many trans and gender nonconforming individuals describe their names as “chosen,” not “preferred,” since “preferred” implies that respecting their names is optional. Given name: The name chosen by a person’s parents, guardians or family members. Generally, the name that appears on a person’s original birth certificate.
Deadname: A name that a trans person no longer uses in their daily life. This is usually a given name, but may include former chosen names. It is also used as a verb: “to deadname” someone is to address them by a name they don’t use. Deadnaming can be accidental or malicious. Some trans people may still answer to their deadname or choose not to correct others who deadname them. Their reasons may include personal safety, fear of conflict or exhaustion from correcting people too much already. Just because the use of a deadname was excused or ignored doesn’t mean that it was acceptable.
WRITTEN BY Cameron Mays Gabriel Xavier
DESIGN BY Prathinav Dutta
A Critique and Solution for Film Studies at Cleveland State
From both a social skills and financial earnings perspective, many students at Cleveland State have made logical choices with their majors. Thus, many students have never taken a film studies course. An illustration of a typical class may illuminate the social skills and financial earnings of a typical film student at Cleveland State.
Regardless of your interest in the topic, the entire class arrives exactly at the start time, ideally later. THough the professor usually comes early, it is expected that the technological challenges associated with turning on a computer will delay the actual start time of the class.
The syllabus is usually constructed from an unpopular WatchMojo list. Professors range from unduly dense in a Trivial Pursuit sort of way to unduly dense in a Scene It? sort of way. By the time you are able to determine which end of the spectrum the professors swing with, they will have figured out how to turn on the computer.
Those excited by the viewing experience offered by a film school with the full financial backing of the Buckeye State shall be sorely disappointed when the professor opens a 240p resolution version of Dziga Vertov’s Man with a Movie Camera.
The illumination of the projector signals to the class it is time to sleep. It is a common complaint amongst students that scheduling film history classes too early in the morning or too late in the night invariably leads to sleeping in class. This is a fallacy. Regardless of what time the class is scheduled, a majority of students will succumb to Hypnos.
The film ends and the class is released for a break. Many CIA torture experts recommend smoking a cigarette to endure long periods of torture, so this brief recess is the perfect time to listen to the experts.
The great risk to your health comes not from inhaling tobacco smoke but from interacting with a film student. Emerging from a vape cloud that smells of spilled soda, a film student will likely complain about one of the screened movies.
“Dr. Kalahari is too silent and too black and white” is perhaps the most frequently lodged complaint. Films free from criticism are generally the ones Johnny Depp likes and remade. This is a good time to return to class.
The professor will likely be sipping a Diet Pepsi that smells the same as their nicotine replacement patch. The floor is opened for discussion. The class is in agreement. The movie sucked. The characters would not adapt well to plush, the multiverse possibilities are too limited, and it would have worked much better as a short. Questions about women directors or films of non-Euro-American origins are redirected to praise of American cinema of the 1990’s. Class eventually loses steam and the students are dismissed early.
Like the German Expressionist films screened in various film classes, the reasons for the current state of film history courses are varied and complex. Also like the German Expressionist films, the suggested future of film history classes are bleak and uncertain.
Currently, pure film history courses at Cleveland State are limited to White Guy Cinema 1 and 2 (History of Film and Contemporary Film), Disposable Media (History of TV, Radio, and Interactive Media), and the Story of Ken Burns (Documentary). The sparseness of the four courses require the classes to offer broad and simplistic film examples, which lends itself well to straight white male voices.
In observation of the environment of the film school, several other reasons could explain why film studies have eroded to their current state. In simplest terms, it comes down to trade school tendencies, quality of content, transgression in cinema, dumbing it down, television school, and industry training. Below is a brief description of each and a possible remedy to each.
Trade School Tendencies - most Film and Media Arts majors intend to work as crew and are not interested in film scholarship.
Quality of Content - films shown in film history courses are typically the epitomized work of a subject.
Transgression in Cinema -
Dumbing it Down -
Television SchoolIndustry Training - the school’s main purpose is to create a workforce for Hollywood productions coming to Cleveland. Instead of showing films that use Cleveland crews, show films that use Cleveland budgets.
Legitimate remedy from the administration is an abstraction. Change must come from a radicalized student body. Lay down your Disney DVD’s! Cancel your subscription services! Demand good movies from marginalized voices! Not bad movies from mainstream voices! If you need a place to start, pick any filmmaker from the following list and watch their complete oeuvre. Or, stay comfortable in a home built on the foundation of conformity.
Engiz Abuladze
Mania Akbari
Chantal Akerman
Roy Andersson
Tran Anh Hung
Dorothy Arzner
Gan Bi
Wang Bing
Lino Brocka
Charles Burnett
Edith Carlmar
Nuri Bilge Ceylon
Yousef Chahine
Vera Chytilova
Souleymane Cisse
Pedro Costa
Byambasuren Davaa
Claire Denis
Maya Deren
Lav Diaz
Mati Diop
Ziad Doveiri
Germaine Dulac
Ildiko Enyedi
Victor Erice
Forough Forrokhzad
Ritwik Ghatak
Bahman Ghobadi
Yilmaz Guney
Alice Guy-Blache
Kazuo Hara
Joanna Hogg
Agnieszka Holland
Pirjo Honkasalo
Hou Hsiao-Hsien
Ann Hui
Shohei Imamura
Miklos Jancso
Derek Jarman
Gaston Kabore
Guru Dutt
Mani Kaul
Aki Kaurismai
Naomi Kawase
Dorota
Kedzierzawaska
Abbas Kiarsostami
Ida Lupino
Majid Majidi
Mohsen Makhmalbaf
Samira Makhmalbaf
Djbril Diop Mambety
Lucrecia Martel
Dariush Mehrjui
Marta Meszaros
Tsai Ming-Liang
Kenji Mizoguchi
Kira Muratova
Mikio Naruse
Yasujiro Ozu
Jafar Panahi
Sergei Parajanov
Mario Peixoto
Satyajit Ray
Lotte Reiniger
Hong Sangsoo
Carlos Saura
Ousamne Sembene
Larisa Shepitko
Hiroshi Shimizu
Yulia Solntseva
Kinuyo Tanaka
Bela Tarr
Athena Rachel Tsangri
Agnes Varda
Apichatpong
Weerasethakul
Lina Wertmuller
Edward Yang
Mai Zetterling