Fighting Fire with Water: On LGBTQ Center Vandalism – Gracie Harrington ’15

This past Friday, I went to the LGBTQ Center on the Second Floor of Benson and saw a horrific site; the words “Rot in Hell” were written on its sign.

As many of you all know, last spring I came out as bisexual. After questioning my sexual orientation for seven years, I finally came to terms with the fact that the feelings I experienced were real. I was not going through a “phase,” I was not being dramatic, and I was not committing sin, I was following my heart.

When asked to write this article, I felt obliged to form an argument expressing that I and other members of the LGBTQIA (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer, Intersex, Asexual; if you do not know what some of those words mean I would be more than happy to explain it to you) were still victimized on this campus, however it has never been my style to fight fire with fire. Instead I would like to fight fire with water, and by doing that I would like to share a story with you.

It was my freshman year of high school. Friend groups were changing, my awkward phase started fading, and I was ready to become the best version of myself. Throughout middle school, I had never been too lucky in the “romance department.” While many of my friends were in relationships (which in those days were defined as going on movie dates in large packs), I only had one boyfriend, and our “relationship” lasted for two weeks. Attending an all-girls school, I did not get the chance to make close guy friends. I hoped that freshman year would be a new start; I would gain confidence, learn how to do my make-up correctly, and would finally get my first kiss. Thirteen years old without a first kiss; I could not believe it! But I would never guess who I would get it from…

I met her in the 6th grade. She was artistic, quirky, and we were friends. We didn’t hang out on the weekends, but whenever I saw her in the hallways I enjoyed our conversations. Fast forward three years: it was a Friday night at our school’s Coffee House (my old school’s version of an Open Mic Night). The lights were lowered and the sound of an acoustic guitar drifted through the air; that was when I saw her.

She had never looked like that before. I remember, she was sitting in the row in front of me, and all she did was look at me and smile. My eyes went big, like a doe in the forest. Still to this day, seven years later, I will never forget that smile. There are few moments in life when you get to witness an emotion in its purist form, without question or doubt. I know what I felt from her; it was a sense of care and a shimmer of mystery. You know the feeling I am talking about. It is when all the world stops, and you linger for a moment in a whirlwind of happiness. It is patient. It is kind. It is a glimpse of what I believe to be love.

Immediately after experiencing these feelings, I grew concerned. That night, I was perplexed as to what I felt. I knew the look she gave me (one of romantic interest), and I had never received this look from a girl. I had always planned on marrying a man. We would have children, and live happily ever after, but wait- why was there suddenly a bump in my road map of a plan?

Over the following months, our romance intensified. We began holding hands, eating lunch together everyday, until I took a large leap of faith. I asked her if she wanted to be my girlfriend.

While typing this out, I look back and think fondly of these memories. These were happy memories, weren’t they? At the time, however, I could not enjoy living in the moment. I may have had a girlfriend, but that was the problem; I had a GIRLFRIEND. I remember looking into the mirror and viewing myself as a disgusting monster.

That year, I experienced anxiety. I told a few of my friends about having a girlfriend, but I always wondered if others knew. I heard my name referred to as that girl who was in a “lesbian relationship”; is that all for which I was known? It saddens me to this day, because the mixtures of emotions from that year were polar opposites. In some senses I was experiencing this wonderful romance with a person I really liked. I’ll never forget the night of our first kiss. We were walking from school back to her house; she pulled me behind a parked car and kissed me. It was wonderful. However, that memory is mixed with feelings of anxiety and fear. Society said what I was doing was not okay.

I broke it off. Instead of caring about her feelings, all I could think about was the fear of being judged and ostracized. What I did to her was not fair, because I should have focused on my treatment of her instead of the judgement of others.

After my freshman year of High School, I went entirely back in the closet. I never again spoke of my first kiss. At slumber parties, I would lie and say my first kiss was with a boy, perhaps in the movie theaters or after a dinner date. It was as if I was trying to rewrite the past. I almost thought I could, but those feelings of control never lasted long. Every once and a while I would being interested in a girl as more than a friend; I would then be sent down this spiral of an identity crisis. What am I? I thought I was straight? Wasn’t that just a phase? Why am I doing this to myself?

Ignoring my true feelings regarding my sexual orientation led to some of the hardest journeys of my life. During my junior year of High School I suffered from intense depression.

In 2011, I entered Wake Forest University. Throughout my entire freshman year, only one friend at Wake knew I had dated a girl. I was scared to go into the LGBTQ Center, out of fear that someone would question my sexual orientation. I tried to forget my past, but I eventually learned that I could not.

I do not know what prompted me to change, but during my sophomore year at Wake Forest, I decided that enough was enough. It was time I showed myself the respect of acknowledging my feelings, and my true feelings were that I was intimately interested in both men and women. I toyed with the idea of coming out, but a voice in my head kept saying “Are you crazy? You can’t come out! You are well liked now, don’t you want that to continue? Do you want to lose friends and be seen as a freak?”

However, on April 20th of 2013 I came out at Shorty’s Open Mic Night. I started by speaking for a few minutes, and then played a song I had written at the age of seventeen, titled “With a Wife.” That night, I came out on my facebook status, and it received more than 500 likes. A week later, the Old Gold and Black wrote an article about my experience. I even received an email from our University President Dr. Hatch, who told me the following: “Thanks so much for sharing your experience. You are a very talented and brave person, and we appreciate all you are doing to enrich the Wake Forest community.” I had never felt so supported in my entire life.

I made the conscious decision to publicly come out because I did not know one bisexual person at Wake Forest. Not one. I knew there were students at Wake who were scared to show the world who they were, so I decided to use my voice.

I am going to be honest, although I received so much support since coming out at Wake it hasn’t been easy. I have lost friends, receive strange looks, and over the summer I received an anonymous message saying that I made people “uncomfortable.” When I read the words “rot in hell”, I was overcome by sadness and distress. I was reminded of the people who talk about me, the people who give me the cold shoulder while in line to get coffee, and the people who think that I am disgusting. This previous weekend was very difficult for me; it was not easy.

But you know what? I am not disgusting. I am beautiful. I am caring, hard-working, and strong. People say “haters gonna hate,” but there is a quotation said by Ellen Degeneres that I like even more: “haters are my motivators.”

So, to all of the Demon Deacons who support love and equality, let these ignorant acts only propel you further into making change. Let us stand together and fight hate with love, and remember that love is love.

“It is within your power to turn the tide. Continue to report acts of bias. Continue to stand up for those who are being treated with disrespect. Continue to extend a hand to those who may feel alone. And continue the conversations in your residence halls, your classrooms, and your social organizations about what kind of behavior makes Wake Forest a great university.” ~ Vice President Penny Rue

– Gracie Harrington ’15