Everyone is Welcome Here
By Melissa Lee and others
When my fellow English department colleague and SPECTRUM co-advisor, Kara McLuckie, and I applied for the Campus Enhancement Grant—ultimately securing the generous funding that made this special issue of GrasseRoots possible—I knew I wanted to contribute. More than that, I wanted my submission to serve as a testament to the home this club has become for so many students during my 14 years as its primary faculty advisor. The truth is, the club has been a home for me, too.
Many former club members remain my friends, but SPECTRUM’s influence on human well-being goes beyond individual relationships. As a collective entity—beyond my role or that of any particular student—the weekly club meetings and activities have given us a space to feel real, whole, known, and understood. For some of us, that feeling came for the first time within this group. While SPECTRUM is nominally focused on gender and sexuality, at its core, it is a club for anyone who has ever been treated as "abnormal" for any innate part of who they are.
A club like SPECTRUM can only exist and thrive out in the open because of the social environment in which it is housed. The fact that LGBTQ+ students, staff, and faculty can come to campus each morning without steeling ourselves to bear the fear and anxiety so familiar to our forebears is a credit to SUNY Canton as a whole. With that in mind, I decided to extend an invitation across campus to faculty, staff, and alumni.
I invited anyone, but particularly those who do not identify as LGBTQ+, to share reflections on meaningful experiences with LGBTQ+ individuals. Specifically, I asked for stories about moments that helped shape their perspectives, opening them to acceptance even of things they may never fully understand.
What follows are the responses I received, including one from my own dad, who retired a few years ago. Taken together, these responses paint a picture of what I have come to recognize SUNY Canton as: a space where the pursuit of knowledge extends beyond the classroom. It happens in the thousands of daily interactions where we listen to each other, step outside of ourselves, and embrace the ongoing process of self-discovery. It is in these moments that we find new ways of seeing, knowing, and, ultimately, experiencing the splendor of being alive.
With gratitude,
Melissa Lee
Associate Professor, Department of English and Humanities
Primary Faculty Advisor, SPECTRUM, 2011-present
I have always believed that you really do need to have some level of love to teach. I know that the teachers who most affected my life were the ones I knew loved me and believed in me. It made me want to be the kind of teacher they were, the kind who was capable of loving and showing compassion to every student, no matter the issue. Yeah, I mean real LOVE. It isn’t easy. Sometimes you have to love a student who has tried you to your limit. But I believe that if you love students, they will come to trust you, and when there is trust, real learning can happen…for both parties. Well, it turns out that working with SPECTRUM students on our campus for so many years gave me so much more love in return. There is nothing like the hug from a student who has just told you the biggest secret they can’t tell their family. Or when a student tells me they think they might be trans or asexual, and what should they do? And when you look them in the eye, and they KNOW you will be there: through degrees, marriages, and children too. I consider myself the luckiest person alive to have been able to have a handful of students become life-long friends and part of my chosen family all because they trusted me enough to give me the honor of hearing their stories.
Marianne DiMarco-Temkin
Advising and First-Year Programs
SPECTRUM co-advisor, 2013-2020
My sister has twin boys and one of them came out as transgender. My sister told me in fear of my reaction, as my parents had trouble digesting this new information. For my side of the family, it was the same as telling us that Henny graduated. I was glad for them. That's it. I don't know why my parents didn't see this.
Brandon J. Baldwin
Associate Professor, Automotive Technology Department
The year was 1973. A coworker came to me and asked if he could share his (what he called) “identity crisis.” I was 16 and pretty sheltered. “What’s the crisis?” He confided, clearly ashamed, that he was a woman. I replied, “So what’s the crisis? First of all, you are a person. You will always be my friend. No need to be ashamed. Just be you.” I recall that we were both very relieved that we had discovered we could trust and accept one another.
Dawn Kimble
Alumnus
Something I would like to share aligns more with the experience of my children. It was heartwarming and pure which taught me a lot about the many ways social constructs influence us throughout our lives.
Around the ages of 4 and 6, my children were given the gift of becoming very close friends with a few peers who used pronouns interchangeably. My children accepted this naturally at their young ages and came to me with the question of how to be sure they “get it right” for their friends. We talked about how what we are in our bodies can be different than who we are in our hearts, and if someone has expressed that using certain terms feels good to them in their heart, then that is what we go with.
This made complete sense to them, and they moved on from the conversation.
At some point after that, I overheard one of my sons correcting a relative: “His heart is a ‘she,’ so we say ‘she.’” It was so simple in his mind.
I see my children learning about love organically, by observing peers whose families have given them the space to explore what they feel about their identities in the heart space, without being restricted by preconceptions attached to physical features.
I am grateful for such positive examples in their lives. All of these children are learning that listening to their own hearts, and respecting the hearts of others, is most important.
Erin Lassial
Director, International Programs
When my friend came out to me, I felt very privileged that this person trusted me enough to share their innermost feelings with me. It made me feel even closer to them.
Marti MacArthur
Development Officer, Canton College Foundation
Many years ago, during my teenage years, a friend came to me and asked to talk. She told me that she was “gay” and was interested in someone, but she didn’t know how to approach them. I had not known anyone who was gay before this. People didn't talk about their feelings back then, especially about being gay. My childhood household was no different, but my parents had instilled in us to treat others as you would want to be treated yourself. I lost both parents to deteriorating health issues in the years just prior to this, so I think when she said she wanted to talk, I just prepared myself for something worse. Like she was sick or something. So, when she said she was gay, I felt relieved. Happiness even. Happy that she was being honest with herself and happy that I wasn't losing a friend. We sat and talked. I encouraged her to talk with the other person and express how she felt. I’m honored she trusted me to be her sounding board. I’ve always admired her strength and courage.
Tammy LaPage-Avery
University Police Officer
I have known young people who asked their parents, “How do I know if I'm gay or straight?” I've realized that I wouldn't have known how to answer that question. I was never told that it was okay to ask it, not even of myself. If a young person were to ask me that question, I would respond that perhaps not knowing is the best place to start exploring the people you're drawn to.
I have known young people who asked their parents, “Is there anyone I could bring home as a partner that you would be against?” I do know the answer to this question. I would reply that the only partnership I'm “against” is a partnership that lacks love and respect.
I have known young people who asked their parents to refer to them with pronouns other than those they were assigned at birth. I’ve wondered how they developed such self-awareness at such a young age. It suggests a level of self-understanding that I don’t remember having. I understand, now, that this was because nobody ever told me that I had the option to claim an identity other than the one other people had assigned to me.
I know, now, that we all ultimately become who weare. The best we can do is allow one another to become.
Johanna Lee
Executive Director, Learning Commons
Since retiring from the faculty at SUNY Canton several years ago, I have been volunteering in the library at Morristown Central School. There, I met a very bright young person who ended up graduating from high school a year early because she had been so bullied in school. Our friendship began when I needed assistance in the school library and she was available. I found out then that she was learning independently. After a few days of helping me, I offered her a place where she could be herself.
Now she is planning to go to college in Fall 2024, but in the meantime, we spend time together working on the Art Festival I chair for the Morristown Gateway Museum. The MGM became a home for her in the summer, working on old files and exhibits. We continue to get together away from Morristown while she makes decisions about a surgery! She has been open about transitioning. With me she shares her feelings, the research, the sadness and worry, her parents’ reaction and support. She feels stronger sharing.
Jill Martin
Department of English and Humanities, retired
When I was a freshman at college, during Orientation week, I was introduced to the other students on my floor. Since we were all experiencing the same feelings of being away from home for the first time, a lot of us bonded. I met a boy on my floor named Brian. He was just about the hottest guy on our freshman floor. We connected over music, TV shows, and we had the same sense of humor. As we progressed in getting to know each other, he told me that was gay, and that he had never told anyone before. I felt happiness inside, as I knew this was a giant reveal and he was trusting me to express his most authentic self. All the girls on the floor wanted to date him, but I couldn’t tell them why he didn’t want to date them. It was hard to keep his secret, but I knew the information was precious and respected Brian enough to not air his business. Brian slowly told our friend group throughout our four years in undergrad. We all never really talked about it because it wasn’t a big deal. We all loved him. And it was heartbreaking to think that he would think that we’d think less of him because he was gay.
Chelsea Chase
Admissions
Two years ago, my son and daughter-in-law told my husband and me, with some degree of nervousness, that our teenage granddaughter had come out as transgender. “She” now wished to be referred to as “he,” had changed his name, and was intent on pursuing gender transformation. We were surprised for a moment and then expressed our love and full support. Our kids told us that our grandson was, perhaps for the first time in his life, comfortable in his own skin. Less anxious. Able to make and keep friends. Happy. And that was all we needed to know. In the ensuing years, I developed a closer, easier, more comfortable relationship with my grandson, and I am grateful for the loving family we have built around him. We will support him through every step along his journey.
Tracey Thompson
Vice President of Advancement and Executive Director, Canton College Foundation
Early in my career at the college, when I was a Residence Hall Director, I always had students sit with me during my office hours, and they would share stories with me about their lives. The stories ranged from anything from school-related stuff to exciting things they were doing outside of school, stories about people they had a crush on, and so forth.
During one of my office hours, I had a student who was a regular in my office nonchalantly share with me that she had recently gone on a date. After mentioning the name of the female student she’d gone on the date with, she got quiet and looked up at me for a response. I excitedly asked her to tell me more about who her date was, where they went on a date, etc. A massive sigh of relief came across my student's face, and she excitedly told me more about her date. Although this student and I had never discussed her sexuality before—there was no need to; she was happy, and that's what mattered)—I knew from that point on I was a safe space for her, and that's all I cared about. My role was to be a supportive listening ear for all my students, regardless of their sexuality. My relationship with this student did not dramatically change after she “came out” to me, as I was always a supportive presence in her life; however, I am thankful that I was able to help encourage her to be her authentic self in all aspects of her life.
Kristen Roberts
Assistant Dean of Students
Although I have worked at SUNY Canton most of my adult life, I previously served as a caseworker at a group home, working with children and young adults. It was there that I met a teenager who hadn't yet been able to confide in his family that he was gay. One day, he and I were chatting about life in the group home while we were making a batch of no-bake cookies (the most coveted treat in the group home!). He very casually said about another one of the housemates, "He and I have plans to go on a date when we get out of this place." He then stared at me— I presumed because he was waiting for me to have some sort of reaction. So, I said, "Where are you going on the date? Because you really need to avoid Red Lobster with your shellfish allergy." He started laughing, and said, "I thought you were going to say you were surprised I was asking him out." I replied, "Teenagers going on dates is hardly surprising."
Over the next several months, while he continued to live in the home, we had many more talks. He later shared with me that he had told me that day about his crush because he hadn't yet told his family and he thought he might get a reaction from me that would help him prepare.
When he got out of the home and went on that date, he sent me a photo of the two of them. For years, that photo hung on my bulletin board in my office at SUNY Canton, both as a reminder of two people whose lives impacted mine, but also as a visual representation of that now-famous Lin-Manuel Miranda quote (paraphrased here), "Love is love is love is love is love."
In the couple of decades since then, I have met many SUNY Canton students who have come out—to me, to their families, or to their peers. I feel hope that the world has become a more welcoming place than it might have been for my young friends 25 years ago.
Courtney Bish
Vice President for Student Affairs & Dean of Students
Our daughters’ coming out, about 20 years ago, changed my worldview and made me a better person. I’m grateful to them for that. Before my daughters came out, I couldn't imagine ever loving them more. After they came out, I realized I’d been wrong. I loved them more than ever.
Brian Lee
Emeritus Employee, Campus Maintenance and Services
“Coming Out.” Out from where? Why? Why does coming out to another person become important?
Perhaps it has to do with checking that a relationship is “real.” In the 1980s I was teaching at a small college. One of my female students, an avid basketball player, invited me to a game. The game won, the on-court celebration begun, one team member stood alone on the court, apparently being shunned. I walked onto the court and hugged her. She’d played a good game. Eventually the day came when she walked into my office with an agenda: she wanted me to know she was gay. I guess I didn’t react as she expected because she asked me if I knew what that meant. Yes, I knew: I had known for years. I was surprised that she would think her sexual orientation would make a difference to me.
Later I realized that, given the social climate we were living in, “coming out” would have required courage. She was checking “realness” of relationship, but checking that realness put her at risk of rejection, again. For me there was no risk: I did not feel the need to come out as straight.
Nadine Jennings
Professor Emerita, Department of English and Humanities