Ask pretty much any LGBTQ+ person who grew up in the South whether Southern hospitality and graciousness is extended to their community, and you might just get a little side-eye and a “bless your heart” in response. As the latest Princeton Review poll demonstrates, the University of Tennessee, Knoxville campus has not been an exception from this experience.
From a state legislature that is expressly hostile to transgender people, to white supremacists who regularly visit campus to attack Jewish and other minorities, to simply walking through campus and having to endure the random shout of “fa***t” from a passing car, UTK’s ranking as the country’s most unfriendly campus for LGBTQ+ persons is not surprising to our community.
And while it is not surprising (UTK has been on the Princeton Review’s list of homophobic campuses for years), it does give me pause to wonder why we continue to slip farther down this hateful slope.
Nearly seventy years ago, in November 1955, James Baldwin wrote in Harper’s Magazine: “I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.”
The truth is the United States is changing quickly on multiple levels: racial diversity of our nation continues to rise, wealth continues to pool among a few top elite and people are less likely to self-identify as practicing a particular religion.
Real change in society affects the real privilege many communities have assumed for generations. A pandemic of isolation only exasperated these trends. The instinct to lash out, to place blame and to hate masks the pain of this perceived loss. But the actual pain of their victims is very real.
What often gets overlooked when news like this makes the headlines are the many courageous efforts of justice heroes and organizations on campus that have been working for years to transform a culture of fear and hatred to one of love and affirmation toward every person.
Valiant members of our faculty, staff and student body tirelessly strive for a campus culture which understands that the true strength of higher education is in the lived exposure to diverse people, ideas and worldviews. For the LGBTQ+ community, the Pride Center, VolOUT and Lambda Law Society have been on the front lines in advocacy and welcome. The Frieson Black Cultural Center, the Black Student Union, I-House and many others have worked tirelessly to advocate for justice for racial minorities on our campus.
The Office of Disability Services champions for those with special needs. Tyson House, Hillel, UKirk, the Wesley Foundation and other campus ministries have fostered welcoming religious communities that advocate for justice and inclusion. Signs of hope are everywhere.
We are at a critical juncture in our history, both as a university and as a society. If we are to turn this corner in the direction of healing and wholeness, we must be willing to seek after the source of this pain rather than covering it up with diluted platitudes and shallow proclamations of peace and unity.
We must learn to listen well to difficult truth-telling. We must be willing to set aside our Southern politeness in order do justice and seek mercy, especially as it affects our wallets and bottom-lines. We must be more concerned with protecting lives than protecting the image of an institution which is in no need of protection.
But until that day, we will remember that God blesses our weeping! God blesses our screaming! God blesses our marching! God blesses our striving! Our pain and our lives are not validated by whether others are moved by our gasping. But our common humanity might be saved if we can recognize each other in humble compassion, and breaking the systemic chains of bitterness, hatred and oppression together.
