Loraine Hutchins, Ph.D.

“It gets better,” we say, pleading with LGBTQ youth to not kill themselves and to reject the silencing, shaming and bullying. What we are really saying is—simply and fiercely—we want you to stay alive. But in this time of extreme global instability, staying alive is sometimes a tremendous feat to accomplish, day in and day out. What inspires me to stay alive and to keep on keeping on, weary or not, are people like:

• Dr. DeRionne Pollard, the new President of Montgomery College, who has the courage and vision to be herself, and encourage others to do the same;
• Starhawk, the Neo-Pagan, eco-feminist activist, who teaches us to “tell a different story” about being alive in the world; and
• Victor Jara, the martyred Chilean folk artist, who demonstrated defiance in the face of hopelessness and rage and was memorialized in Holly Near’s lyrics:

The junta cut the fingers from Victor Jara’s hands
and said to the gentle poet ‘Play your guitar now if you can.’
But Victor kept on singing ‘til they shot his body down.
You can kill a man but not his song when it’s sung the whole world round.

Our moral imperative is to tell our own stories, to create different realities, to stay alive in this difficult time. As I’ve toured campuses around the country these past 20 years, speaking out for LGBTQ rights and liberation, I’ve loved watching the LGBTQ student movement grow. I’ve had the privilege of working with students, staff, and faculty on many campuses and participated in a variety of conference trainings, keynote addresses, and workshop facilitations on LGBT issues, sexuality, and spirituality. But during most of that time, I never expected to have my own classroom or to teach.

My first real job after college in 1971 was working as a youth advocate with a community program designed to keep runaway teenagers out of the juvenile justice system and help them gain independent living skills, as well as reconcile with their parents. I went on to help organize a national network of youth counselors who worked with this population. But that was in the 70s. When I earned my doctorate in 2001 a classroom of my own was not in my plans.

In 2004 when I first started teaching a class in Women’s Health at Montgomery College (MC), I had no idea whether I’d like it or what the students and faculty and campus culture would be like. I stepped in at the last minute to help a friend whose class was starting the same week she’d been offered a new job. I quickly fell in love with teaching, especially because of the eager and passionate undergraduates from all over the world who are busy staying alive on MC’s Takoma Park-Silver Spring campus on the MD/DC line. After that first class, I started teaching other classes and getting more involved with the life of the college

In early September 2010, the TP/SS campus women’s studies coordinator asked if I’d do a special event speech for LGBT History Month, the first time something like this had been proposed on our campus, as far as I know. I was scared, terrified even. I burst into tears and sat shaking, alone in my office for a long time after I accepted her invitation. I was an adjunct instructor with no job security. I didn’t even know any full-time faculty who were fully out. Why me? But the words of Victor Jara and Starhawk compelled me to agree to take a public stand.

Then something tragic happened right before my speech.  Rutgers college student Tyler Clementi jumped to his death off the George Washington Bridge, and there was a sudden storm of media attention that increased public awareness about the problem of gay youth suicides, not just Clementi’s, but many more. On October 4, the night of my speech, the room in the Commons was packed with people sprawling all over the floor space and spilling out into the hall. My talk was in part a memorial-wail for the all young people whose lives were cruelly cut short, a report on the Campus Pride research, and a call for our own mobilization as a college community, which helped form:

• MC Pride and Allies started a Facebook group for staff, faculty, and allies;
• The first LGBT student group on the TP/SS campus; and
• The creation of MC’s anti-bullying statement and many other MC Pride initiatives.

Our MC Pride group began visualizing and implementing projects from that day forward, working to make our college a safer, more vital and supportive place for all students, particularly the LGBTQ ones. Dr. Pollard has inspired me to be bold and to dare to think outside the box in supporting LGBTQ students. She was there from the start, commenting on a student blog, helping shepherd our anti-bullying statement through the Board of Trustees approval process, and speaking from her heart in the “It Gets Better” video (Watch it on my homepage!) about how much the love of a wonderful woman has meant in her own life.

This June, we celebrate LGBT Pride across the United States.  At MC, we began with a fascinating Colloquium on teaching gender across the disciplines. We have two more events scheduled. An initiative from the President’s office, “Portraits of Life: Stories of Being,” is a photographic exhibit that honors people in Montgomery County, including yours truly, who’ve helped advance the rights of LGBT people over the years. The other event, organized by MC Pride, an all-day Consortium on LGBTQ Advocacy , is an opportunity for faculty, staff and students to share best practices for working with LGBTQ students on campuses.

As Starhawk, my eco-feminist mentor, asserted during the public panic around 9/11, keeping our path on a positive course always involves “telling a different story.”  That’s what blogging is all about—telling our stories. This is an excerpt of my story from the “Portraits of Life” program:

My family refused to participate in the white flight to the suburbs in the 1950s and 60s, so I learned about civil rights, misunderstanding, racism, ignorance, and prejudice. At 15, I was aware of McCarthy’s persecutions. My mother took me to the 1963 March, and I heard “I Have a Dream” in person.

I am an activist for feminism, civil rights, and social justice and, as a bisexual, am especially trying to help those who are persecuted for their sexual identity. Every semester, students come to me who have been raped, survived genital cut­ting in Africa, or who are struggling with pregnancy or sexual orientation issues. I try to give them hope, to help them trust themselves and find people who can help them feel safer being who they are.

For me, teaching is about helping myself and others to stay alive and to do it fabulously. We are linked; our fates affect each other and we cannot afford to lose anyone. So take care of yourself and each other.

Welcome to my new blog and thanks for listening to my stories.

Tags: classroom teahing, gay youth, LGBT youth suicide, runaway young people, sexual minorities, suicide, youth at risk, youth suicide