But, in Williams’s view, the issue isn’t necessarily an institutional one.
“I know so many people who are what they call ‘down low’ because they’re either scared of their parents, their parents are paying for their tuition, or they’re scared because they grew up in a heavily religious household,” he says. “I think it’s more so a Black community issue that we really do have to address.”
According to the Pew Research Center, Black Americans tend to have slightly more conservative views on sexuality than the larger public does. A 2021 report found that 6 in 10 Black Americans said that homosexuality should be publicly accepted, compared to 7 in 10 of all people.
“I think the attitude toward LGBTQ+ folks ranges from intimate acceptance to complete misunderstanding to downright rejection,” McCune says. “Religious organizations justify bigotry through scripture and interpretation, fraternities and sororities are concerned when individuals visually speak or embody gender or sexual difference aloud. I think many queer people have found themselves either feeling as exiles, or having to choose when and where they wish to navigate these problematic and sometimes violent community rules. Indeed, it is common that young LGBTQ+ folks remain in hiding, or separate themselves from family and friends who attempt to disable their freedoms.”
When attitudes about what type of man should join a fraternity prevent queer and trans students from applying, Cooney said it’s not only upsetting, it could also limit their potential, cutting them off from important connections through these organizations that could boost their future success. In the Journal of Blacks in Higher Education, Hamilton J.B. Raymond wrote, “Giving a young Black man the opportunity to join a Black Greek letter organization offers an invaluable opportunity to enhance their personal growth, build meaningful connections, and contribute positively to both their university and society.” The mentorship programs, leadership training, and network of other professionals offers young Black members a leg up, something that’s particularly important given racial bias in hiring and in the leadership pipeline post-grad.
“It’s upsetting because you have gay boys and even trans students who might have thought about pursuing these organizations because they’re legacy, or they might have heard of the impact that these organizations can have not only on a person’s personal growth in their self realization, but also because of their reach in their community, their network, and service,” Cooney says. “So I honestly think it’s pretty sad.”
But, not all queer students feel the same, and the pressures they face aren’t all equal. After spending her younger years struggling with insecurities, Nia Martin, who called Howard a new home, found her niche on what she says is a “very gay” campus. She got involved with Student Government and Cascade, an LGBTQ+ focused organization on campus. There, she spent a lot of time fostering other young queer students entering her university, so she saw first-hand how Black queer students’ lived experiences are shaped by their surroundings. When she first came out to her family, Martin says she faced struggles that impacted her ability to afford school. It was her community at Howard that helped her find a scholarship to cover her school costs until her familial relationships recovered.
While reports affirm that Divine Nine organizations have historically been hesitant to support LGBTQ events or issues on campus (something Cooney says he faces when trying to organize Cascade events), Martin says the student population at large at Howard is supportive, or at least indifferent. While the 2018 article in The Nation reported that many HBCUs were making a concerted effort at the time to be more LGBTQ inclusive and accepting, she’s still faced some homophobia on campus. Still, Martin says that there’s a key difference in her experience: she’s a woman.
“It’s going to be a little bit different for [cis] women than it is going to be for men, trans people, and non-binary people in general,” she says about joining Greek life as a queer person. “For women, everybody is just like, ‘okay, she’s trying this out.’ Nobody was judging. For men, I had a lot of friends who stayed in the closet all the way up until they graduated because they were trying to be Greek, and they wouldn’t allow them on line at all, so they had to do everything in secret. I used to sometimes have to hold them while they were crying because they were hiding a huge part of their identity.”
Rachel* who attended Jackson State University and is a member of Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority Incorporated believes that the difference between queer men and women on campus is deeply rooted in the patriarchy. “HBCUs are predominantly Black and masculinity is on full display around your people all the time,” she says. “I’m not speaking for them, but I can imagine, if you’re a queer guy in a dormitory and you’re sharing a room, possibly with another male who is straight, you may not know where they come from, especially when you’re a freshman. And there’s that fear, whereas with women, you’re kind of seen as a woman first, and those fears aren’t as prevalent or top of mind. At Spectrum (the LGBTQ+ organization at JSU), one of the causes we worked on was with the dorms. Some of the residents I worked with were afraid of being seen as gay first and then male, and that fear can resonate and replicate and cause them to hide.” Teen Vogue reached out to Jackson State University but has not heard back.
Rachel recalls one friend who was out when he joined a fraternity. “I feel like his fraternity was better for it,” Rachel says. “The impact that they were able to make was amazing.” But because the larger HBCU community is so small, she says there’s a hyper-visibility about being at one, something that increases if you’re in Greek life, and increases even more if you’re one of few openly gay people.
