As defined by the Oxford Dictionary, code-switching is, “The action of shifting between two or more languages, or between dialects or registers of a language, within a discourse.” I happen to believe that our queerness can be the dialect in which we speak when we feel comfortable. It is the rawest expression of ourselves and our sexuality. However, can we really conduct ourselves one hundred percent authentically in academia? A great queer theorist named Paco Vidarte once asked himself this exact question; without all the bells and whistles, I will use his essay to inform this one.
Before I bring another person’s opinion into this, I want to first say that my experience in the last five years has been very bumpy, as far as expressing my sexuality goes. I remember my first year of university like it was yesterday. We were taking classes online, as was customary for 2020, but I managed to make some friends. These girls were nice, at first; I remember them offering help, advice, and company in the middle of the most trying times. I kept in contact with them on and off during the summer, and, when I finally met them, I thought I had found the people who were going to accompany me throughout my whole college career. I was incredibly wrong. One of the girls was telling me about herself and the topic of religion came up. She told me she was very religious and wanted to start a podcast with one of her liberal friends about the opinions they didn’t share; homosexual rights was one of those topics. When I heard her opinion about queerness and how it didn’t belong in universities, it absolutely broke my heart. I felt like I had finally found my people and, just like that, it was over.
My identity really is mine and I own it. Right now, I’m identifying as a lesbian. This might change in the future as I discover more about myself, but I will always be a woman-loving-woman. That’s a part of myself that I’ll never hide or apologize for, but my education is my priority and, sometimes, I feel tempted to dim myself down a bit to fit in the mold of a perfect, professional student. I end up having to weigh out my passion with my identity.
Source: Refinery 29
“The queer [referring to queerness] was not born in the university, nor will it ever enter its classrooms peacefully (perhaps it will not enter in any other way: the queer is the antithesis of the university, the non-universalizable, what the universal drops as waste…” This was the first sentence in the essay I had mentioned at the beginning: “El Banquete Uniqueersitario,” or the “Uniqueer Banquet,” a play on words combining “queer” and “university.” He published this in 2005 and, for the time, his argument was revolutionary. Explaining his opinions about queerness in college and making other people see his argument was something that had value.
Even though I attend what could be considered the most liberal university in Puerto Rico, queerness can still be looked down upon. Homosexuality is perceived as unprofessional and as a lack of morals. It’s hard to accept yourself fully in those circumstances because, if I know one thing about myself, it’s that I am none of those things. So naturally, one wants to hide all of it. In his essay, Paco Vidarte explains the eclectic roots of gay culture will never fit in the box that is higher education. It’s just not possible, and I agree. “Queerness in the university also serves this purpose: it generates income, opens doors, teaches courses, gives names, fees, titles, credits, prestige and satisfies know-it-alls, dilettantes and paid lecturers. It becomes part of the capital if one is careless and forgets that the passage of queerness through the classrooms is only a tangential, opportunistic, contingent phenomenon, perhaps born of the best will, but which will always be in contradiction with the Institution, with any institution, because there are no queer institutions.” Institutionalizing queerness is probably the worst thing that could happen, as far as moving the culture forward goes. All the “gay-friendly” movements that have emerged in my university, and in so many others worldwide, are getting us noticed. However, to create real change we must understand that the Institution will never accept us and find a way to STILL make it work on our own terms—without compromising ourselves and our identities in the process.
Source: Rainbow & Co.
Because for people like me, whose education is all they have to ensure a future they actually want, our universities are the only thing that can help us achieve it. However, being in such a dismissive and negative environment every single day will only make us forget who we are. Change has to happen; I think it’s up to us, queer students, to enforce that change and take up space, even though they don’t want us there.