in the spring i was invited to give the lavender graduation speech for CUNY School of Public Health. i had no idea what to say, and i had not idea how to start to say it. i am bi (or pan) sexual, i'm poly, and i didn't feel LGBTQ+ enough to deliver the speech. but i did it, and i'm pretty proud of the outcome. i wanted to share it here to motivate/inspire, but also to help others find ideas when writing their speeches. (yes i googled and couldn't find anything helpful LOL)
***********
Good evening CUNY School of Public Health graduates, faculty, staff, and loved ones. I’m going to start off tonight with my main premise: this graduation speech is all about the importance of your bravery. And, before I say anything else, I want to say that I am SO honored to be here giving this speech today. When forced to put myself in a box, I identify as pansexual and polyamorous, but I have a history of feeling like I’m just not queer enough. As if I haven’t experienced ENOUGH discrimination or lack of support to really wear the rainbow badge. Even though I know that this is not logical, the experiences of many of my friends–either out in the world or from their own families–let me know how lucky I have been in this area of my life. But, despite my fears about giving this speech, I am going to take my own advice and be brave.
I want to start by backing up a little and looking at the history and importance of the “lavender” in our “lavender graduation.” Lavender is a color that symbolically stands up to the oppressor, in the bravest of fashions. The Nazis used pink triangles to designate gay men and black triangles to designate lesbian women; the LGBTQ civil rights movement has combined these; thus, lavender was born as a symbol of brave pride.
And the importance of the lavender graduation is to recognize all of the courageousness it has taken for each of you to make it here, to this moment, today.
Historically, we know that LGBTQ people have had to work harder than their straight/cis counterparts to achieve the same successes in life. Last week my dad, who was in the US Air Force for over 20 years, shared a story with me about a friend of his who was dismissed from the Air Froce in the 90s with 18 years of exemplary service –for being gay, which means he was not eligible for any benefits or retirement. It is systemic prejudice that creates policies such as “Don’t Ask/Don’t Tell” and “Don’t Say Gay” that have caused thousands of stories like this, creating the backdrop of our lavender graduation today.
I considered including a portion of the speech about how hate driven violence is a public health problem, and bringing in some shocking and depressing statistics, but I know that each of you have lived these statistics in your own ways. So, instead, I will forge ahead with the bravery I am entrusting you with.
My first big ask to you is to be visible: to be visible even when it feels scary. To be visible even when it feels hard. I went to Penn State in the late 90s and early 2000s. I didn’t know one “out” professor or staff member. Actually, I only knew one friend who was out publicly–all the others were only out to their closest friends. And the lack of visibility of LGBTQ faculty and staff contributed to the students’ invisibility.
To illustrate the importance of visibility, I’ll share the story of one of my dear friends. This friend had always dated men, and into his mid 30s, he always thought he would still settle down with a woman to have a family. I supported him in his life, without questioning the thought processes behind this. Just a few months ago, he came to me with a revelation. He had been on vacation and had met a gay couple who had a child. And it wasn’t until THAT moment that he realized that his gayness and his desire for a child could co-exist in his life. It was the visibility of this couple that gave him the understanding that the combination of his desires was not just possible, but that he could live a life he hadn’t even dared to dream he could live.
Looking forward: the future is queer.
And so next, I want to say thank you. Thank you to every LGBTQ person and every brave and outspoken ally who has come before us. Thank you for the road you have laid for us.
And our job now is to pave the way for those to come. I know you might be thinking, “Spring, I can’t always be as brave as you might want me to be” and to that I say, Yeah, sometimes bravery is saving your own life. But keep looking for opportunities to be brave.
In my academic career I have had people tell me to sit down and shut up (though not always in those words) about my eating disorder, my sexuality, my relationships, and the importance of antiracism. I have been threatened with not being re-hired and have been told I would not get tenure if I continued to sound alarms and fight for change. But I think you know what my response has been to this advice.
I charge you with designing safer spaces–look for every opportunity to implement policy changes and educational programming for the existence and FLOURISHING of LGBTQ people in the places you live and work. And be visible while you do it. Be your full self, even when it feels scary. Remember the bravery of those that have come before us, and think of those that will come after us to help fire up your own bravery. And then… just keep showing up and being your FUCKING FABULOUS SELVES.
