Nova Grace Photo: Mackenzie Manley

Nova Grace on campus at NKU Photo: Mackenzie Manley

On her first day of college three years ago, Nova Grace went to Northern Kentucky University’s LGBTQ center. It was pivotal to the process of coming out as transgender, she says. Through the office, she found security and empowerment.

Now, in a time when LGBTQ rights are in question, the center has continued to be a vital refuge, Grace says.

“It’s such an important thing, you just can’t quantify it,” she says, adding that the office helped her as she navigated not only a new campus, but a new phase of being out to the world.

NKU isn’t the only school with an LGBTQ center, of course. Centers at local state universities have continued to adapt, offering a haven — and inspiration for activism — as protections for the LGBTQ community seem to erode.

Bonnie Meyer is in her fifth year as director of NKU’s LGBTQ Programming and Services. She says centers like NKU’s are especially important in the current political climate.

Grace and others say Trump’s election seems to have predicated a more hostile atmosphere, even on generally accepting college campuses. But the election also kicked off a new round of activism and engagement among young people, something she counts as a positive. 

“It’s not like Trump invented homophobia or racism,” Grace says, “but I think this election is what made it like, ‘Oh no, it’s very here.’ ”

University of Cincinnati LGBTQ Center Director Amy Schlag says that though her students may feel fear in a shifting political climate, they’re also ready to push back.

After a 2013 U.S. Supreme Court ruling stated that restricting marriage to only heterosexual couples is unconstitutional, it felt like the LGBTQ movement had “finally arrived at that moment” when rights were nailed down, Schlag says.

But “backlash usually follows victory,” she says, citing past moments in struggles for civil rights.

Housing and Urban Development Secretary Ben Carson in February announced the department will remove anti-discrimination language from its mission statement. And the Trump administration has made recent attempts to ban trans people from the military.

In the wake of those decisions, Schlag says the center she oversees exists to “provide a sense of home (for LGBTQ students) and take care of their immediate needs” in a world that sometimes seems increasingly hostile.

With a total enrollment of nearly 44,000 on UC’s campus, those needs vary. But the basics are similar from school to school, Schlag says, pointing out that with any university LGBTQ center, inclusivity trainings and support groups for students are standard. Like UC, NKU’s center offers “Allied Zone” trainings, including trans-ally trainings to students, faculty and staff.

Both campuses tout some standard efforts to offer more inclusiveness, including gender-inclusive restrooms and locker rooms in their recreation centers. But both are also still working to implement them in every building throughout campus — old and new.

UC receives a 2.5 out of 5 on the Campus Pride Index, a system developed by the nonprofit Campus Pride to assist colleges with creating a safer and inclusive environment for LGBTQ students. As the website notes, reasons for the ranking include the fact the campus lacks procedures for reporting LGBTQ-related bias incidents or hate crimes and does not have ongoing training for hate-crime prevention or a mentorship program. After pushing through some new initiatives, however, that ranking could see an uptick.

NKU, meanwhile, gets 4.5 out of 5 on the Campus Pride Index. But Kentucky as a whole is another matter.

Only nine counties in Kentucky have anti-discrimination laws for LGBTQ individuals. It’s a little better in Ohio, where 19 municipalities have laws that prevent housing, employment and public accommodation discrimination. But both the Bluegrass and Buckeye states are among 28 states that leave protecting LGBTQ people out of their state laws.

Security only extends so far at NKU. Covington is the only nearby city in the state with LGBTQ protections in its municipal code.

“Take a couple of steps off campus, and there is no inclusive policy or fairness ordinance in place for Highland Heights folks,” Meyer says. “So, our students are protected based on sexual orientation, gender identity and gender expression here on campus, but not if they get an apartment.”

Campus isn’t always completely welcoming either. Just after the 2016 election, someone from the NKU community had a slur spray-painted on the side of their car and a brick thrown through the window. Grace says she’s been screamed at once or twice walking through campus for having a PRIDE button on her backpack.

Knowing she has NKU’s center, she says, makes the day-to-day easier.

“Having a place to call home and knowing that you’re surrounded by people that have similar experiences to you is such a comforting thing in general,” she says, adding that the day after the election people were in the office crying and holding one another.

The centers offer a sense of refuge from sweeping policy changes and societal dynamics. But they also provide assistance with something as practical and personal as a name.

At NKU, Meyer says transgender students going through a name change process are able to change both pronouns and names in the university’s system — all the way down to their email addresses.

“We do work with students quite a bit who are transitioning and part way through (the semester) decide to change their name around communication with their faculty members,” Meyer says.

Grace was one of the first students to go through that process, which provides a list of pronouns to instructors so she doesn’t have to directly come out to professors.

By next year, Meyer hopes that this process will become even more seamless. Instead of going to her, students will be able to change their first names and pronouns directly within the “myNKU’ online portal.

Schlag is also working to make UC’s system more streamlined.

“One of the challenges we face as a big school is that there are a number of systems in place; sometimes getting them to communicate can be challenging,” she says. “As of now, when students come to the university, if they would like to register with a preferred name they can go through (the school’s online portal) Catalyst and have it changed.” Still, their email may carry their birth name, which has to be changed manually.

There are other ways the centers work to make campus literally feel like home.

Since traditional dorms often cater to heterosexual and cisgender identities, Meyer says NKU decided to offer “flex housing,” an option that allows students to choose their own roommates regardless of sexual orientation or gender identity. That is available in most housing, except the two traditional residence halls. But those halls could be included after ongoing renovations wrap up, she says.

The center is especially concerned about how to support first-year students.

“Flex housing is available to returning students and students who have lived in housing before,” Meyer says. “That doesn’t do a lot for the new or transfer student who needs the flex housing option.”

Down the road, Meyer wants to implement a living-learning community for LGBTQ students similar to a model called the Bayard Rustin Community on University of Louisville’s campus.

Across the river, UC is making similar efforts. Schlag says the university will soon launch the Audre Lorde living-learning community, a floor dedicated to trans individuals.

Grace already lived in flex housing once, and plans to return next school year, noting that the process is now online. Having that option to live in an inclusive, LGBTQ-safe environment is one she says she’s grateful for.

“Having that space — it really is an empowering thing for the queer students on campus,” she says.

For NKU center director Meyer, having a supportive community and outlet via activism is essential “when you feel like you’re being attacked at all sides” as a student. Though LGBTQ rights efforts have suffered setbacks via recent attempted federal and state legislation, she says that students are fired up.

“They’re not willing to take 18 steps back,” she says of students. “We’ve seen this our entire lives through this movement for equity and justice. The youth aren’t shying away from it, so I think we really have an opportunity to stand up and fight for this work.” 

Mackenzie Manley is a freelance journalist based in Greater Cincinnati. She currently works as Campbell County Public Library’s public relations coordinator, which means most of her days are spent thinking...

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