As a member of both the Catholic and gay communities, the recent decision announced by Vice President of Student Affairs Juan Gonzales rejecting a center for gays, lesbians, bisexual and transgender students has left me perplexed. Learning under the Jesuits since my high school years, I have developed a great admiration for their philosophy and their principles. This admiration has recently been jeopardized.
When I first heard of the GLBT center’s dilemma, my conscience panicked. Observing this peculiar war between the gay community and the University, I felt forced to take a side. Such a decision was nearly impossible for two important reasons. First, I have considered myself Roman Catholic for as long as I can remember. I have been educated under the Catholic Church; I go to Mass weekly; I even have a little statue of the Madonna. Second, I realized my homosexuality in my early adolescent years. At the time, I certainly experienced internal moral conflicts, but these have been long resolved. In fact, it was to the Jesuits that I turned for moral support during this time of crisis.
How, then, could those humble priests that were so eager to listen to my problems represent those same persons that were blockading Georgetown’s gay community from building their?our?social haven? I first tried to answer this question by reflecting on the principles of the Jesuits. When I think of the Society of Jesus, I think of two important principles: tradition and social justice. I believe both of these principles are vital not only to the Jesuits, but also to Georgetown. Tradition is why we scream at the basketball games and why we step around the seal in Healy. Social justice is why we have such a diverse student body, why we participate in outreach and other volunteer work and why we care about diversity.
If tradition and social justice are both principles of the Jesuits and Georgetown, why are they at war with one another on this issue? More importantly, why did tradition come out victorious? Still more importantly, why did social justice lose unconditionally? After contemplating these questions, I could come to no conclusion. I cannot agree that tradition alone can win this war.
For Georgetown, tradition should be a progressive virtue. If it were not, “Hoya Saxa” would be a term shouted only by heterosexual white males. By advocating principles like social justice as well as tradition, Georgetown progresses both morally and academically. By constructing a GLBT center, the University is not bashing its traditions or its Catholic identity. It is upholding its principle of social justice. It is showing loving, Christ-like virtues of tolerance and righteousness. A GLBT center does not entail handing out condoms left and right, nor will it be a window of opportunity for unethical activity, as the University has described it.
In addition, both the University and some students have made the argument that there is no need for a GLBT center. I can admit that, personally, I have no pressing need for a GLBT center. Nonetheless, I cannot speak for everyone and, in my opinion, neither can the administration. A university is defined by its student body, and it must meet the needs of that student body. Georgetown is fortunate enough to have such a diverse community of students; to ignore their needs would be to ignore the essence of the University.
Moreover, to question the necessity of a GLBT center relative to other minority centers is ludicrous. I am almost certain that most students of racial minorities can walk across campus confident that racist slurs will not be thrown in their direction. If this was not the case, I am sure they would be rallying for their respective centers as well. However, when the word “faggot” is used nonchalantly on campus, the argument that there is no need for a GLBT safe zone terrifies me.
Furthermore, some make the claim that a center would cause isolation of the gay community from the rest of the student body, doing more harm than good. While this argument is a reasonable one, I cannot fully comprehend how a GLBT center could further isolate a minority of students that is already in such isolation. With the exception of some fortunate students, those still struggling with issues of sexual identity feel the worst isolation of all: complete loneliness. A GLBT center would not isolate them from other students, but show them that the University and the student body welcome them to the community and are doing everything possible to meet their needs.
Thus, a GLBT center is not incoherent with Georgetown’s Catholic or Jesuit identities; rather, it is a fulfillment of them highlighting the principles of tolerance and social justice. A GLBT center means a safe haven for students who must unwillingly face matters of sexual orientation that cannot always be addressed in the dorm room, in the classroom or even in the confessional. It means a place where students facing similar issues of sexual identity can discuss these issues and, hopefully, resolve them. It means upholding the Jesuits’ principle of social justice. It means being men and women for others.
