When you go to a school like Kenyon, which is extremely small and nestled amongst miles and miles of farmland, it’s sometimes a little too easy to forget that a world exists beyond the hill. For the most part, that’s okay. It’s nice to be totally immersed in a close-knit environment dedicated to education, living with people who more or less shares the same ideals. But when that bubble pops, it can be a shocking and difficult process to handle.
I had this experience myself this past week when I crossed paths with the protestors on Middle Path. I remembered them from last year, so their presence here didn’t shock me so much. I recognized the obnoxious signs and the usual stream of condemning declarations about our way of life at Kenyon. I thought that they would mean nothing to me this year—their shock value was gone now. I was wrong.
Over the past year, I came out on Facebook as a queer woman, and I’ve grown so much more comfortable being open about my sexuality in the accepting and supportive environment that Kenyon provides. My circumstances have changed quite a bit between last year and now, and so my reaction to the protestors has changed as well.
I am so blessed to have a group of friends, a family, and a community that supports me to express my identity and not be rejected or turned away for it. I realize that this is not something every member of the LGBTQ+ community is lucky enough to have, but it’s hard for me to imagine not receive unconditional support as I do. I’ve never had somebody I know walk up to me and call me a slur. I’ve never been worried about having my parents kick me out of the house for my sexuality. I’ve never been afraid of the world in which I live as a queer woman, period.
Seeing these people on Middle Path, I started to get a little afraid. It wasn’t the people that scared me—they seemed harmless enough—it was the ideas to which they prescribed. It’s easy for us to laugh at how ridiculous and antiquated their beliefs might be, but the problem is they’re not alone. They reminded me that I am in a bubble at Kenyon, and that not every community is so accepting of people who openly express what some people might call “deviant behaviors.” Despite huge, paradigm-shifting things happening in the past few years, namely the legalization of gay marriage in the United States, there is still a staggering number of people in the world that don’t accept me as I am, and probably never will. I’m leaving Kenyon in a few years. I’m going to go out into that world, and I’m going to have to find a way to reconcile these people into everyday life. Even if times are changing, I am sure that there will always be people like these protestors that will push against it.
But another thing I am just as certain about is that there will always be people who will try to change their minds. Yes, seeing the protestors upset me and made me feel uncomfortable, but the Kenyon community once again proved to me what a wonderful place it is. Every time I walked past the protesters, I saw groups of students speaking with them, debating and questioning in peaceful, progressive ways. I saw pride flags stuck into the ground around the protestors, and they’re still there today. Students could have shouted back at them, or worse, ignored them, but we didn’t. They actively went out to try and change the way those people thought, even if it did seem like a hopeless venture. Great changes come from something as simple as talking. It might take some time, but it’s clear to me that we’re already heading in the right direction.
So maybe having those protestors on Middle Path wasn’t the worst of things. It might have even been a little bit of a good thing.
Image Credit: Annie DeVine and Samantha Roschewsk