worked against itself; I just didn’t think I could handle that
kind of abuse at such close-range. The near-total absence
of openly gay professors, the not-infrequent stories of lost
friendships and snide remarks, the Shoulder Check — all of
this helped keep me in the closet until after graduation,
whereupon I moved to the largest city in the country,
enrolled as one of several thousand grad students at a huge
university, and came out, all in a matter of two months.
Haverford seems like a more accepting place now, at
least on the surface. There are two gay student groups on
campus (BGALA, a social and support group, and
inQueery, a political activist group). In coordination with
Bryn Mawr, which has an active lesbian population, stu-
dents can piece together enough courses to form an inde-
pendent concentration in Gay and Lesbian Studies (cours-
es like “Queer Theory/Queer Literature” and “Almodovar
y sus chicas: Gay Cinema and Cultural Transformation”).
And there are more openly gay professors at Haverford
now, including one flaming loudmouth with a chip on his

shoulder. (Me.)

Still, gay and lesbian students tell me that they dont enjoy
the same degree of institutional support that other minority
students do. The Office of Multicultural Affairs deals almost
entirely with racial, ethnic, and religious concerns, leaving
gay men and lesbians feeling that they're on their own. Psych
Services runs a coming-out group whenever students take the
initiative to organize it, but the fact that the college's out-
reach is primarily psychological in nature itself speaks vol-
umes. The meeting space given to gay students is a flood-
prone basement room in Jones; that the college vetoed plans
for space in the Campus Center still rankles. And the Shoul-
der Check reigns. As long as everybody in our
community knows everybody else’s business
and talks about it behind their backs - a situ-
ation that is unlikely to change any time too
soon — students with secrets will continue to
have a tough time at Haverford.

Ed Sikov is currently teaching “Sex and Gender on Film” at Haver-
ford. He recently published On Sunset Boulevard: The Life and

Times of Billy Wilder.

Oy nA: ce |

 

B, mid-October, I'd recently suffered more calamities
than I had all year. I got hit by the biggest SUV on the
toad while riding my bike without a helmet. The thing
pulled right in front of me doing about 45. I was just
entering the crosswalk doing about 30 myself — downhill.
Nothing to do but slam into it. Momentarily knocked
unconscious, I spent the next five hours on a hospital gur-
ney in a close encounter with a neck brace. My just-
moved-in lover, a man I thought was the greatest thing
since the class of 85, turned around and not only moved
out but basically vanished. I'd planned to spend the rest of
my life with him. My car was towed to the impound lot,
victim of the only DC government entity that’s truly effec-
tive. Not the best moment to compose my thoughts on life
as a black gay Haverford graduate on the verge of 40.

Then again, maybe it’s exactly the best time. After
all, wasn’t life at Haverford as a black gay
man about not only providing diversity but
surviving adversity? Not much diversity but plenty
of adversity at the Ford. Being gay at Haverford was a trip
all its own. In the early years of coeducation, the mostly
all-male environment was still a haven for closet cases,
latent types, and the “questioning.” But for the gay man
the social milieu was incredibly oppressive. I was a born
again Christian when I arrived on campus in the fall of
1980. The Presbyterian response to my awakening gay
identity was to let God solve the problem. God had other
plans. Soon I was choking down my one and only valium
to overcome a psychological crisis. Although emotionally
involved with no fewer than three “straight” guys on cam-
pus, one each year from 1981 to 1983, those entangle-
ments were draining and ultimately fruitless.

 

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HAVERFORD ALUMNI MAGAZINE