Judy Jarvis ‘07

In 2003, ninety-one percent of Americans in the 18 to 29 age bracket believed lesbians and gays should be allowed to serve openly in the military. This CNN/USA Today/Gallup statistic was released over three years ago, and yet silence is still forced on approximately 65,000 service members who have no choice but to stay closeted while serving their country. If we have (and have had for many years) such a large majority of young Americans oppose the restrictions of the “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell” (DADT) policy, how can this policy still be intact?

Polls in the following years have continued to ask Americans the same question, but it is rarely asked of the military personnel themselves. In 1992, 16 percent of junior enlisted personnel believed gays and lesbians should be able to serve openly, and in the National Annenberg Election Survey’s follow-up in October of 2004 the number supporting was up to 50 percent. A Zogby poll published this December reported that 73 percent of the military is comfortable with lesbians and gays in their ranks. With such overwhelming support for the abolishment of DADT from both inside and outside the military, now is the time to strike down this vast and unabashedly discriminatory policy.

Rallying campus activism against DADT is one of my primary duties as president of ACT OUT: Student Activists for Gay Rights. We ally with national organizations such as Soulforce and Servicemembers Legal Defense Network in order to make national impact while increasing campus knowledge of gay rights issues. The students and faculty who have participated in our anti-DADT actions have been strong advocates for its abolishment; and yet we have encountered some confusion and outright resistance to the issue, for reasons usually due to a lack of information. The two dominant reasons for discomfort with action against this legislature are concerns that fighting DADT is pro-war and/or hetero-normative. Here I attempt to dispel both concerns, because both side step the severe harm of DADT, which is this: The United States of America actively supports a federal law that discriminates on the basis of sexual orientation. If Vassar College or any local employer so blatantly discriminated on the basis of sexual orientation, we would be outraged; yet, by not actively working to overturn this policy, we passively allow our government to do just that. We allow the anonymous witch-hunts that occur within the ranks, we allow the institutionally-condoned homophobia, and we allow American taxpayers to pay over 260 million so that new recruits can be trained after thousands of qualified servicemembers are discharged under DADT, according to the Servicemembers Legal Defense Network.

Superficially, it might seem supporting lesbians and gays in the military inherently supports the war. Allowing gays and lesbians to serve openly would mean an increase in forces, and thus perpetuate the war, some argue. But this perspective misses the issue, for no one is suggesting that gays and lesbians must serve in the military; only that those who do and already are should be permitted to serve openly. This is hardly a pro-war stance. Striving for open service is a fight for desegregation, and is thus a civil rights issue, not an issue of support for the military.

The U.S. military is the largest employer in the nation. If the largest employer in the country is allowed this type of blatant discrimination, how will any other gay rights issues gain significant ground? According to the Human Rights Campaign, employers in New York and 16 other states are explicitly barred from discriminating on the basis of sexual orientation. The U.S. government, which employs servicemembers from all of those 17 states, should not be exempt from this principle. Further, there is no other employer in the nation that is federally required to fire an employee because of his or her sexual orientation.

Yet accusations of heteronormativity persist from some in the gay community, including Mattilda (aka Matt Bernstein Sycamore), editor of “That’s Revolting! Queer Strategies for Resisting Assimilation.” Sycamore writes that too much focus is given to “the holy trinity of marriage, military service, and adoption,” all of which Sycamore considers heteronormative agendas. But in reference to DADT, this is utterly illogical. The most heteronormative action one can take in reference to DADT is letting it remain as it is. “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell” is literally the definition of heteronormativity, as people in the military are federally required to be straight. DADT suppresses all variation in sexual orientation, as though that will make homosexuality, bisexuality and transexuality not exist. However, despite the military’s repressive efforts, according to the December 2006 Zogby poll referenced earlier, 23 percent of servicemembers know positively that one of their peers is gay, and 45 percent of servicemembers suspect that one of their peers is.

We should neither be fooled into thinking that we can leave DADT alone because servicemembers can be openly gay in the military regardless of this policy. In her talk at Vassar in the spring of 2006, Rhonda Davis explained that all it takes is one anonymous e-mail to your commander from a private who doesn’t like you, and a serious investigation against you and your sexuality is begun. Davis, who ascended to high ranks in the navy, was discharged under DADT in less than two months after 12 years of service. Once doubt is established about your heterosexuality, “You can admit to it and get the discharge process underway, or you can lie…then an investigation will be launched. Those are always ugly, and the gay service member never wins,” Davis wrote in a recent e-mail. “They go to anyone and everyone who has ever known you—they’ll call your third grade teacher if necessary.”

As percentages supporting open service increase over the years, perhaps some are comforted by evidence of our nation’s increasing progressive mentality toward equality. But as long as DADT remains in place in this country, this false comfort only condones the law. DADT is a very direct diminution of all lesbians, gays, and their allies because it directly pronounces gay and lesbian people to be “lesser than” their heterosexual peers. How dare we to let this federally-sanctioned discrimination reign?

Originally Published in the March 2007 Issue of Quorum

Looks matter. It takes less than a second from the time you see someone to the time you realize if you are attracted to that person. Sexual orientation also necessarily carries a physical component: without the body, sexuality is not sexuality and sex is not sex. But with the integration of technology into our lives, phenomena such as cyber-sex or even phone-sex challenge the traditional conception that the body is a prerequisite for sexual activities. More than that, the virtual world raises the question of whether a “real” identity is even needed for sex.

The body plays a major role in forming one’s identity. This is even more so in a hyper-sexualized environment where the only object that can intensify sex is the body. Considering the body as the core of one’s identity, the virtual world now seems to offer a supernatural gift to escape the limitations and imperfections of one’s body, serving as a portal into a new body and identity that can manifest one’s sexual imagination that reality is unable to dismiss.

A case of this sexual nirvana in practice is Second Life, an online virtual world in which each participant manifests as a virtual identity, or avatar. Signing up and exploring the virtual lands of Second Life is free, but to enhance your avatar, such as getting racy clothing and owning virtual real estates, cars, and other goods, cost money. There are currently over 3.8 million residents in Second Life. Once on the island, you get a new virtual identity complete with a virtual body of whichever your choosing, and you get to interact with the rest of the avatars in whichever manner you like.

As tempting as Second Life seems, it seems questionable whether it can really offer the escape to a whole new world. One way of looking at it is that Second Life is a distinct immaterial world that offers a brand new identity and hence a new place to experience sex that reality cannot offer. Another way to see it is that Second Life is only a derivative of reality and hence is necessarily in the same space with the same restrictions as reality. This would mean that there is no escape to a new identity, and no novel experience of sex.

Second Life can easily be viewed in a positive way: as early as 2004, virtual gay pride marches took place in Second Life. There are also many gay islands and bars with mythical rainbows hanging over them. Not only can participants choose their own identity, appearance, and character, they can also choose whether to be out without the social and political threats present in their first life. In their second life, participants can find acceptance that they might not be able to experience in their environments in the first life. Participants can find liberation from their first life’s body, identity, and sexuality. They can also experiment, for example, by changing gender, orientation and status. On top of all of this, they get to interact with other liberalized identities and form sexual and romantic relationships without any legal restrictions such as age that can satisfy the most wickedly kinky imagination.

On the other hand, all of this seems highly idealized. There are many telltale signs to hint that rather than an independently immaterial space, Second Life is more like a offshoot of reality that has many similar restrictions tied to it. Second Life, after all, is a corporation, and the laws of economics must apply to the virtual space as well. In order to experience the full potential of the virtual world, such as having a place for your avatar to live and material possessions like fabulous clothing and sex toys, you need to pay almost just as much money as you would in your first life. 16 cyber-acres of land for your avatar to live on, for example, cost U.S. $1,250 per month plus a monthly maintenance fee of U.S. $195.

Beyond the economics, Second Life is much of an unregulated place, and just like chat rooms, there is no guarantee that there are no discriminating or homophobic residents. For example, an avatar who’s a sexual minority of color might experience the same prejudices as in the real world. Also, your ability to interact with other residents is also dependent on your social skills, just like in the real world. And just as there can be an accent to one’s speech, there can be a style to one’s writing style that can lead one to be marginalized based on the stigma attached to the style (i.e., one who uses sophisticated vocabulary could be labeled as a geek). Romantic or sexual relationships can be problematic as well. For example, if your avatar is in love with another avatar, does that mean that you are also in love with the made-up hottie? And just like in your first life, you’re not immune to (virtual) heartbreak, sudden disappearance of your (virtual) lover, and (virtual) divorce either.

Socially, politically, and economically speaking, it also seems certain that Second Life does not provide an escape to a new body and identity in a detached world because so many limitations in Second Life are also limitations in real life. This considered, it would seem far-fetched to claim that Second Life provides an escape for identity and the physical body. What it does provide, however, is a space for novel and artistic expression of identity and sexuality.

Sarah E. Brown ‘09

In case you haven’t heard, The Mug will be closed until after Spring Break in order to fix a sewer line break. In a February 22, 2007 e-mail statement, Dean of the College Judy “JJ” Jackson explained that Building and Grounds discovered plumbing problems in the College Center and the low-lying part of campus through “video inspection.” In order to re-open the Mug, the sewer must be replaced. It is hard to tell which news is more disturbing—that the Mug will be out of commission until after Spring Break or that the College has video cameras rigged in the campus bar.

For those mourning the temporary loss of our dance club, several local venues offer an atmosphere similar to the Mug on a weekend night:

The Dutch Cabin: Just a few steps from campus, this seedy local favorite is the bar where you’re most likely to run into your professor. While not exclusively gay, The Dutch tends to bring in a diverse mix of students, faculty and locals. Come early for tasty burritos and nachos, stay late for cheap drinks and good company. (The Dutch Cabin is located on 35 Fairmont Ave, adjacent to Vassar College, in Poughkeepsie, NY. (845) 471-7870)

Griff’s: Only accessible “from the rear,” Griff’s is an officially gay bar that boasts different-themed nights each week, including the popular Ladies’ Night on Wednesday. (Griff’s Bar is located on 47 Raymond Ave, directly across from Vassar College, in Poughkeepsie, NY. (845) 471-8913)

Mad Hatter Tavern Inc: Rumor has it that this gay bar is packed weekend nights by 11pm, but it isn’t frequented by Vassar students in the same numbers as Griff’s. Fans swear by its low drink prices, ample dance space and lively (if somewhat older) crowd. The fact that its name recalls last year’s Founder’s Day is also a draw. (Mad Hatter Tavern Inc. is located on 51 Market St., in Poughkeepsie, NY. (845) 454-7400)

Morgan Warners ‘08

I arrived in Madrid in September with the Vassar-Wesleyan program. I took a taxi from Madrid’s Barajas Airport, winding my way towards the city’s center. Madrid is set on a high plain, very arid and, even in September, still quite warm. Next to the highway stood amalgams of newly built glass and steel office buildings for companies like IBM, invariably bordering clusters of roughly hewn apartment buildings, those plain dusty stacks of concrete and sunshades.

From the center, the city sprawls out like this in all directions. From its heart at the Paseo de la Castellana, Madrid is a city undergoing a growth spurt of twenty-plus years’ duration.

My apartment was on a small side street off Calle General Martínez Campos, in the Chamberí district, by Metro Iglesia. It was a pretty nice area, just a short walk from some of the city’s big banks. I unloaded myself from the cab and rang the bell. No one answered. Unfortunately, this initial occurance foreshadowed the less-than-ideal living experience that was to come.

The single mother (Señora) and twins were on vacation at the beach, typical for the end of summer. My 22-year-old host sister told me this after I found my way into the building and up to the apartment with the help of another tenant. My host sister seemed friendly; she told me that she really liked the American television show Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which was also made clear by the myriad pictures of David Boreanaz and Sarah Michelle Gellar on the walls.

My hopes of interacting on a more personal level with my host family were not realized. My host sister offered to put movies on for me before retreating to the room she shared with her mother, closing the door. My 26-year-old host brother didn’t speak with me, and the 16-year-old twins spoke to me only when spoken to first. My Señora was rarely around. And while I got a lot of attention from Pongo, their dog, I never felt like the family wanted me there. I could not help but wonder, did they dislike me because I was an American or because they knew I was gay?

One thing that made up my mind to move was when one of the twins used the word “maricón” at dinner—a gay epithet. At this point, I knew I had to find a more accepting and open household.

My new host family seemed perfect—the mother ran a small furniture store in the same building as the apartment, the father was a man from France who ran marketing for an optical cooperative business, and I had three siblings: Guillermo (eight), Blanca (nine), and Jaime (ten).

Immediately, we started talking politics. Only ten years old, my host brother Jaime claimed to be a fan of Aznar, the former president of Spain. Aznar was a supporter of the Iraq conflict, and enjoyed good relationships with president Bush. It was Aznar’s People’s Party (PP) that opposed the now-governing Socialist (PSOE) party’s gay marriage legislation. Jaime told me that he didn’t like the current Socialist president because he legalized gay marriage. My new Señora told me that they should never have passed the law with so many people opposed to it. They just didn’t want that law, she told me. Millions protested. I got a sinking feeling in my stomach when I heard those words. Would I have to move again?

For the next three months I lived with my Spanish family under a kind of “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell” policy. We talked about politics almost every night over dinner, but certain things, subtle political issues never came up. For instance, each day my host mother Anna prepared dinner just leaving her shop. Earlier in the day she would have gotten up at six to get the kids ready for school. Then at the siesta she would have gone to the grocery store and crashed on the couch for an hour to catnap. Anna drank a lot of diet coke to keep her going. Jorge, my host father, just got up and left in the morning and returned for dinner at nine pm.

Traditional roles within the household did not seem right to me. I wondered, why did Anna have to run everything in the house while Jorge, my host father, did nothing domestic? Why did she have to pass so much of this labor off to a series of maids and nannies that streamed through the doors over the course of my stay? (We had three: Dorcas, the first, had been a literature teacher in Bolivia before she came to Spain illegally for the socialized healthcare.) Why did Jorge tell his young daughter Blanca that cooking was for girls?

Despite my disagreements with some things that underpinned their lives, Jorge and Anna thought that I was more or less on the same page politically. They opposed the Iraq war. They think George Bush is an idiot. They believed in strong public education systems, social security, and public healthcare. And yet there was the gay thing, one of many things that we left under the surface of our political talks.

I realized that all the people who had told me that Spain was full of social progressives were mostly wrong. They insisted on judging the Spanish people according to American standards. That’s just silly. Just about every European country is progressive in comparison to the United States.

In my first host family, the word “maricón” was fair game. In my second, I assumed that opposition to gay rights was a settled matter. But then George told me once that he had no problem with two gay men living with each other. Anna shared with me some of her moral struggles with her life and the church. She thought it was silly that she received low interest loan rates to open a store under a special women’s empowerment program sponsored by the government, but she took the loans anyway.

I decided no one back here in the US really knew what they were talking about, when they concluded that because Spain had gay marriage that it must be choc full of social progressives. Quite to the contrary, the political parties spar constantly. What does it mean that I found so much common ground with People’s Party adherents in Spain?

I wouldn’t say, by any means, that I came to respect my host families’ disdain for gay rights. I do still think it amounts to homophobia. And yes, maybe their religious or ethical views are ultimately incompatible with the full realization of rights for gay people like myself. But I did come to appreciate their views on their terms and it helped me appeal to their humanity in all our political talks. I learned that positive stereotypes were neither fair nor positive—Spain isn’t a homogenous mass of liberals and gay rights opponents aren’t a huge mass of homophobic assholes. Now back in the States, when I read about gay marriage debates that are more polemical by the day, I am trying to hold onto that.

Like the sprawl that Madrid has become, I learned while abroad that Spanish politics are a web of meanings that aren’t simply transplantable into American notions of “progressive” or “conservative” or even “right” or “wrong.” I came to realize that expressing myself en Español meant a lot more than speaking a language. It meant thinking things through on Spain’s terms. That’s the real en Español.