Are you afraid of ghosts? Spiders? Talking to people tabling on the Main Green? If so, beware. I am going to tell a tale that makes these pale in comparison to the horror described. But this is, in fact, a true story.
Picture this: you stroll into a beautiful room with vintage wallpaper and an ornate table. It’s shopping period and you’re thinking of taking GNSS0645B: The Ethics of Postmodern Postmodernist Feminism. Your professor is one of the hottest old women you’ve ever seen, which is confusing, so you choose to ignore it to avoid inner turmoil.
You try to sit at the end of the table, so that you have an easy escape if things go awry, but all the prime seats are taken. Reluctantly, you claim a seat in the middle as the remaining members of the class file in. Class is about to start, so you begin preparing a fun fact to share when you are inevitably forced to introduce yourself.
First up is Caitlin. She introduces herself shyly to the class: she/her, first year (never freshman), Virgo with an Aquarius moon. Very normal, very nice. All good so far.
Jenny goes next. She/her, senior (has completed her concentration and lost the will to live), Canadian! Alright, I guess.
Then, the room stirs as the unmistakable voice of a DPhi member disrupts the serenity. “I’m uh, Grayson,” he mumbles to his newfound audience. “He.” His eyes betray nothing short of pure terror.
Suddenly, you are hit with a dreadful realization. You are the only they/them in your Gender Studies class.
….
….
….
What!!!!!!!!!!!! Isn’t Brown supposed to be paradise???? Heaven was supposed to be a place in Rhode Island, land of the free and home of the gay! That’s what we were promised on College Confidential, at least.
This is to be expected in Principles of Econ, but Gender Studies is supposed to be an oasis amongst the horrors of “actual subjects” like “science” and “math”. Where are all the members of the LGBTQIA+ GroupMe when you need them most?
You meekly introduce yourself, so overwhelmed that you forget the fun fact that you had prepared. A weighty silence settles over the room. Can everybody else hear your heart pounding?
Suddenly, a murmur.
Is that…it can’t be…
“Oh, um, I’m Jordan. She/they.”
You immediately block out everything that they say next. It’s unimportant. What truly matters is that you!! Are!! Not!! Alone!!
Perhaps there is salvation, if you know where to look. Maybe GNSS0645B: The Ethics of Postmodern Postmodernist Feminism won’t be so bad after all.