Íøºì±¬ÁÏ

On Saturday, March 7, I attended the bulk of Íøºì±¬ÁÏ’s fourth annual Lyon’s Pride Conference, a two-day event centered around celebrating the legacy of queer students and culture on Mount Holyoke’s campus. The walk to the Willits-Hallowell Conference Center was chilly, but upon entering the lobby of the building, I was immediately warmed by the presence of so many smiling faces. Alums, current staff and current students filled the space, alongside an abundance of flags and pins celebrating LGBTQ+ identity. I hadn’t been to the conference center in months, so I was pleasantly surprised by how the space had been transformed.

Tables lined the far right wall, exhibiting poster boards from the Íøºì±¬ÁÏ community’s queer-oriented organizations, such as Queer Action Collective and FAMILIA, an organization that serves the LGBTQ+ community of color across the five colleges. Also present was a table dedicated to Mount Holyoke’s Coalition for Asexual/Aromantic Awareness and the Lavender Committee.
On the far left, paintings, photographs and vinyls lined a series of long tables. This was a wonderful celebration of Íøºì±¬ÁÏ culture, with art by alums donated by other alums and music from on-campus a cappella groups, such as the Victory Eights.

The celebratory nature of the conference extended to the concurrent sessions I attended, which began at 9 am. I attended the Bisexual Identity Caucus in the Weise-Merriweather room first and had an illuminating conversation with a group of alums about the realities of navigating life as a bisexual-identifying person. It was a unique experience for me to sincerely delve into the nuances of bisexual identity in a space curated for that exact purpose. We discussed the relationships between our identities and our preferences, families, labels, found families and dating histories, both on and off campus. I pointed out that Íøºì±¬ÁÏ seems to be one of the more culturally queer spaces I’ve existed in. Stepping off campus while still identifying and presenting as one would on campus seemed to be a point of contention in everyone’s lived experience to some degree, simply because of the stark juxtaposition between on- and off-campus culture.

Throughout this session, I was not unaware of my Blackness. This visible difference that sets me apart from the rest of the discussion group is not being referenced here without purpose. It was directly invoked in the discussion, and while I may have been objectively on the spot, I was not hesitant to state that a great many celebratory aspects of the discussion and the way that my peers identified queer community and acceptance on campus certainly did not apply to the experience I and many of my non-white-identifying friends had. Regard for queer identity and racial identity exists in a precarious balance for many non-white-identifying students, many of whom carry independent opinions on their multiple identifying factors. No queer group of color is monolithic, but one concordance I have observed in my experience at Íøºì±¬ÁÏ is that the school as an institution is largely not in tune with the experiences of queer people of color. Queer students of color tend to be underrepresented in places that they did not intentionally forge for themselves as a response to their lack of representation. From my experience, the presence of students and alums of color is similarly overlooked in circumstances where that color is not being employed as a motif for diversity.

Along this same line of discrepancy was the jarring but expected lack of attendance at the following Queer and Trans People of Color (QTPOC) Identity Caucus in the same conference room, which began promptly at 10 am with a group of three: two faculty members and me. I had hoped to see more students and alums in attendance, but although Íøºì±¬ÁÏ is a wonderful and accepting place filled to the brim with vibrancy and queer culture, it is not such an oasis for other groups.

During the discussion held at the QTPOC Identity Caucus, I felt understood on a personal level as issues outside of my sexuality were brought to the forefront, and the discussion drifted from one topic to another, each digging deeper into the complications of existing as a person of color in a predominantly white space and the additional layers of distinction brought on by identifying within the scope of the LGBTQ+ community. Most uniquely, in contrast to the previous session I had attended, this discussion championed intersectionality. I am still a touch disappointed that the session was only 50 minutes long, as I would have enjoyed continuing it far longer than that.

Overall, the Lyon’s Pride Conference left me with a sense of community outside of the bonds of campus life. At the same time, I was left with a series of questions surrounding the representation of queer people of color on campus and what curated spaces such identities were meant to occupy within a campus culture that does not foremostly reflect such identities. I spent my lunch deep in thought and the rest of the conference in deep appreciation of the rich experience it gave me and the thrill of being part of such an impactful new tradition.