This is the fifth in a series of Advocate
dispatches from the Equality Ride. Sponsored by
Soulforce, the ride is taking 33 young LGBT
activists on a nationwide tour of college campuses with
policies that call for ejecting openly gay and
lesbian students. Its first several
stops--including Jerry Falwell's Liberty
University and Lee University in Cleveland,
Tenn.--led to a lot of constructive dialogue as
well as some arrests for "trespassing."
This dispatch was written by Equality Rider Jarrett Lucas
after the Ride's visit to Texas A&M
University. As a state school A&M does not
eject LGBT students, but it does host the Corps of
Cadets, the largest Reserve Officers'
Training Corps program outside of the military
academies--and the U.S. military, as we know, does
eject openly gay and lesbian service members.
We pour onto
Texas A&M's campus, an army of individuals
connected by a common dream: We wish to live in a
world devoid of discrimination. The diversity of our
group is quite apparent. Even more visible is our unity.
With affable smiles and sincere greetings we allow our
shirts to ask the question, "Would you serve
with me?"
Rain does not
delay our Wednesday morning rally, nor does it scare away
the audience. Students, cadets, and faculty approach us,
excited by our presence and interested in our message.
[Equality Ride codirector] Haven Herrin and I both
speak. Although we cannot amplify our voices, we make
ourselves heard: "It is time to end the ban."
Our
nation's leaders have written into law the notion
that gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender people
are abnormal and inferior. Our nation's
legislators have codified the very prejudice we seek to end.
Our military, which seeks to promote and protect truth
in the world, asks its own soldiers to lie about who
they are so as to ensure "unit cohesion."
Although we cannot make people listen, we make the voices of
many people heard. The "don't ask,
don't tell" policy dishonors the service of
its approximately 65,000 LGBT service members and
discredits the intellectual potential of their
heterosexual comrades.
After the rally
Commandant John Van Alstyne proudly invites a group of
Equality Riders to have lunch with Corps members in Duncan
Hall. It is clear that his pride extends to us as well
as his cadets. He says we are brave for acting on our
beliefs. He knows we are servicing society by
advocating our own liberty. Constantly quieting salutes, he
traverses the large dining hall captivated by our
honest, articulate discussions. At a dozen tables,
Riders successfully engage the minds of students whose
individualistic cerebration is often suppressed. Simple
conversations about military policy quickly lead to
the exchange of curious inquiries, personal testimony,
and scriptural understanding. This is why we are here.
At one table a
cadet asks, "What if the entire military were
gay?" Despite his dismal tone, Riders respond
by saying, "Then the uniforms would be more
stylish."
The Riders
proceed to discuss nations that allow openly gay citizens to
enlist in their militaries, among them many of the United
States' most powerful allies. It is explained
that in regard to military service, sexual orientation
is as benign a characteristic as skin color. Perhaps
the cadets at that table leave uncertain of where they
stand. But one thing is sure: The issue of serving
with LGBT people has been personalized; the human
element of prejudice can no longer be denied.
A forum is held
in Rudder Tower later in the evening. Gay students and
straight allies, including the commandant, arrive to show
their support for the Soulforce Equality Ride's
current and future endeavors to end injustice. I have
never seen such a diverse group gathered for a single
concern: a three-star general, a straight cadet, a gay
student leader, a former soldier, and dozens of youth
activists. But we put our differences aside to
recognize that which threads our lives, our humanity. And
very much like the Corps at Texas A&M, we honor
ourselves with dignity, courage, and integrity.