EDITOR’S NOTE: The Lavender Letters, a monthly series, is a collection of open letters written by members of Ole Miss’ queer community highlighting the many joys and hardships that come with being a member of the LGBTQ+ community in the South — and in particular on this campus. This edition is by senior political science major Caleb Ball from Ingomar, Miss. If you are interested in contributing to the series, email opinion editor Kadin Collier at thedmopinion@gmail.com.
I’ll never forget the time I visited Stonewall.
Last summer, I traveled to New York City, my dream residence, and I was beaming with joy. I decided to visit the Stonewall Inn, the historic gay bar where the gay rights movement really picked up speed.
I was traveling alone, so I walked in with the objective of making a friend. Pretty quickly, this attractive man started talking to me. One of the first things he asked was, “Where are you from?”
I smiled and said, “Mississippi – I’m a student at the University of Mississippi.” He immediately responded, “I’m sorry.” That moment has stuck with me.
Being a queer Mississippian, especially at Ole Miss, is almost impossible to explain to people who haven’t lived it. My Mississippi identity is deeply part of who I am, just like being gay is. They go together.
Being a queer Mississippian means checking the news to see new laws proposed that attack your community and knowing that many of the people you grew up with voted for the same laws that deny your dignity. It means wrestling with the desire to escape to an oasis of inclusivity while feeling a compulsion to remain, because this is home, and there is so much work to do here.
Being gay at Ole Miss isn’t always easy. I’ve had friends spit on at football games. I’ve heard people yell slurs. I’ve seen worse. But honestly, I wouldn’t change it.
Before coming here, I didn’t even have a gay friend. I was scared. I was ashamed of who I was, but being at Ole Miss taught me how to love every part of myself.
When there isn’t a safe space, we make one. Yeah, there are people here who don’t accept us. But if you look, if you really look, you’ll find the ones who do. And when you find them, it’s like finding family.
My friends are my favorite part of being queer at Ole Miss. We know not everyone accepts us, but we accept each other. And that kind of community? It’s like nothing else.
If I could go back to that night at Stonewall, I would tell that guy: You don’t have to feel sorry for me. Sure, Mississippi isn’t perfect. Sure, there’s still homophobia there.
But guess what?
There’s homophobia everywhere. But here, if you really search, you’ll find your people. You’ll find a place that feels like home. You’ll find a community that lifts you up.
Just like I did.
