A more inviting campus for all

Keesia Wirt

It all started out pretty normal and innocent. I was just going through the motions of another day of classes at a small, public Iowa high school.

There were about 25 of us, I’d guess, sitting in the modern civilizations class.

We were discussing Adolf Hitler and the Holocaust. Our teacher, who was a strong Catholic, explained the life of Jews living in Germany at that time.

He showed us a film about the concentration camps and when the last mass grave had been filled, he flipped the overhead fluorescent lights on and asked us for comments.

I remember he impressed upon us how wrong it was to judge people based on their religious beliefs or affiliations.

After all, he said, Catholics suffered religious persecution too.

We agreed with him — killing someone for their religious beliefs was a bad thing.

Then a student, who had obviously done his homework, innocently enough reminded us that it was not just Jewish people Hitler had targeted, he also went after gypsies, the mentally handicapped, twins, blacks and yes, even homosexuals.

Whoa, with the mention of the h-word things got real quiet. Our professor just stared at the student.

“I don’t believe in that,” he finally said.

That confused me. If he didn’t believe what our textbook was printing, then why did we have to read it? But then he continued and things cleared up for me.

“I think our government should dig a big trench, line up all the gays in this country and machine-gun them down,” he said.

If he was joking or not, the statement should never have been said. We were at a public school. Twenty-five impressionable high school students in a community in the heart of Iowa, where, we all know, accepting minority groups is not a top priority.

Amidst cheers and “Oh yeahs” from some of my classmates, I was thinking, “Wait a second. You’re talking about two of my favorite uncles. In fact, you’re talking about at least five members of my not-so-distant-family.”

Geez, what was up with this? I was shocked, and I certainly did not agree with him. So you know what I did?

Nothing. I just sat there. I did not do a thing to defend the gay community — my uncles, my family, my friends.

And I can honestly say that silence is one of the biggest regrets of my life.

A hundred times I have thought about what I could and should have done.

But I didn’t. And I’ll always be sorry for it. It’s been more than five years since I sat in that classroom, and I have not been quiet since.

I now confront those people who tell gay jokes or make off-color statements. I don’t yell at them; I don’t try to force my opinion on them, well, not most of the time.

But I always say something to stand up for my uncles, my friends and all of the people in that community.

And that’s a big community.

The American Psychological Association (APA) estimates about 6 percent of U.S. adults identify themselves as homosexuals.

Once you throw in the bisexuals and transgendered folks, and the number of people who have not publicly identified themselves, the percentage rises to about 10 percent. That’s a lot of people. That’s a lot of people you know or work with.

It’s sad only about 830 students at Iowa State have identified themselves to the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender Student Services office.

If the percentages are correct, we should have at least 2,400 students who aren’t “straight.”

Sure, maybe ISU has a significantly lower population of LGBT people than the national average.

Or, maybe our campus appears so unwelcoming and unsupportive for them that they don’t want to come out.

According to APA research, certain social and demographic variables make people negative toward homosexuals.

Heterosexuals with these negative attitudes often exhibit the following traits: little or no personal contact with a gay man or lesbian, strongly religious, older, less well-educated and a resident of Midwest or Southern United States, where negative attitudes represent the norm.

Hmmm. Considering we’re at Iowa State, I can hardly be surprised at the attitudes many people have toward LGBT people.

But my mom fought the system and she didn’t let her four kids, living on a farm in Iowa, turn into homophobic rednecks.

Let’s change the atmosphere on campus. Even if you don’t agree with homosexuality, you can at least make this campus a more inviting place for all students.

Tonight at 7 p.m. the LGBTA Alliance is meeting in the Cardinal Room of the Memorial Union. (The “A” stands for ally; that’s for all the heterosexuals who want to give support.)

There will be a presentation on the campus climate for LGBT students by Houston Dougharty, associate dean of students.

Go. Be supportive.

And don’t worry, they won’t try to convert you.


Keesia Wirt is a senior in journalism and mass communication from Panora.