Izzy Thompson is a fourth-year psychology student and writes “The Queer Lens” for the Daily News. Their views do not necessarily reflect those of the newspaper.
The first time I met an openly queer person as a child, my entire worldview shifted. It was as if something had unlocked, but I had yet to figure out what. Growing up, I only heard gay people talked about as if it were some huge secret or a celebrity scandal. It was quickly made clear to me that queerness was not something that was celebrated.
I was 12 years old when gay marriage became legal in the United States, and as more people stepped out of their closets, it became my turn to find out what was in my own closet.
As I began to explore my queerness, I struggled because the only media out there for gay people was hypersexualized or riddled with stereotypes. A decade later, these problems continue to persist, along with queer erasure and the outright cancellation of LGBTQ+ shows.
For example, Disney has recently cut out a transgender story line in their show called “Win or Lose,” according to TransVitae, and I’ve seen Netflix cancel more queer shows than I like to think about.
While representation matters, what good is it if it’s frequently distorted or incomplete?
In my first year of high school, there was a Gay Straight Alliance (GSA) that I would attend with friends. However, it was poorly run and very chaotic, as there was a lack of staff who cared about their queer students.
I knew I wanted to be involved and help run the group, but at the time, I lacked the confidence to take on a leadership role and was still struggling to figure out my identity.
The year 2020 felt like a cultural shift. With people stuck inside, it seemed that many began to explore their gender and sexuality. That year, we saw numerous celebrities come out, including NikkieTutorials, Elliot Page, Cara Delevingne, Jameela Jamil, Lili Reinhart and more.
This increased visibility of queerness not only helped me better understand myself but also began my journey of self-acceptance.
I joined the Spectrum executive board— Ball State’s oldest LGBTQ+ organization — in my second year of college. At first, I was shy and unsure of my goals beyond simply wanting to support my community. Now, after two years in this role, my confidence has grown in ways I never would’ve believed.
I’ve been given the opportunity to build connections with people and organizations that have pushed me to reach higher goals, and Spectrum has allowed me to do exactly that. I strive to make Spectrum more than just an event-hosting organization. I want to build it up to be a place for advocacy and community building.
Visible queer leadership in higher education plays such a crucial role in shaping campus culture. One reason is the community it brings. The book Affirming LGBTQ+ Students in Higher Education explains how a lack of LGBTQ+ community can lead to depression and anxiety. When students feel isolated in their identities, it can cause them to struggle with self-acceptance, mental health and overall well-being.
Having a strong LGBTQ+ presence on campus helps create that sense of belonging by reducing those feelings of alienation. When queer leaders serve as role models, it shows students that they are not alone and their identities aren’t something to simply be tolerated, but something to be uplifted, included and celebrated.
However, representation is only one step to helping LGBTQ+ students feel accepted and safe on campus. When queer leaders are true advocates, they are able to drive meaningful changes that make campuses more inclusive. LGBTQ Leadership in Higher Education explains how leadership and identity intersect by documenting the experiences of LGBTQ+ leaders. It showed that when leaders actively push for inclusivity, they can create improvements in campus life.
One personal example of this is when Spectrum helped with the implementation of gender-neutral bathrooms across Ball State, ensuring that gender-diverse students have safe, comfortable and accessible restroom options.
This is only one of many examples of how LGBTQ+ leadership can play a role in shaping policies and creating a community that strives for equity and inclusion. By recognizing and supporting these leaders, universities can help build environments where all students feel valued and supported.
One of my biggest inspirations to continue as a queer leader on campus has been Muncie Queer Alliance (MQA). They are a newer LGBTQ+ local non-profit that provides education, advocacy and support to the community. Connecting with them has given me the chance to meet older queer people who have been able to build fulfilling lives while also continuing to create change in their community.
Seeing an organization like MQA, so similar to Spectrum, has shown me that my current work as a queer leader does not have to end when I graduate, but rather that it can evolve in new ways. It gives me hope that I will also find ways to make lasting impacts in my community, no matter where my future takes me.
With the current rise in queerphobia in the United States, I am profoundly grateful to have found such strong communities at not only Ball State but in Muncie overall. My leadership role in Spectrum has only empowered me through these dark times, allowing me to embrace being my authentic self and being louder about my queerness.
In the face of oppression, our visibility, our voices, our unity, and our joy are our strongest weapons of resistance. If you can, I encourage everyone to consider getting involved in a campus organization, a local advocacy group, or anything within your community. Your voice has the power to create a future where all queer people can thrive.
Contact Izzy Thompson via email at ijthompson@bsu.edu.