Out in the Mountains, March 1987: Coming Out at Vermont Law School

Jeffrey Busch is a second year student at Vermont Law School in South Royalton. He wrote the following letter to the VLS newspaper as a reflection on his aperiences coming out on campus.

As a gay student, surviving at Vermont Law School requires fighting two battles. There is the battle we all share - the battle to acquire a legal education. Then there is the invisible battle which I feel I fight alone - the battle to contend with the law school community's homophobia.

Early this semester I took ten days off of school to reevaluate why I am studying law, and to reevaluate the ways in which I have been interacting with other students.

As I remember my most idealistic pre-law plans, I remember that I am studying law to promote justice and to represent the underrepresented within society. Law school is simply a means to achieving this goal. Like it or not, law school is hard. Whether a legal education is a self-effacing, degrading, and inapplicable rite of passage, or whether it will provide the fundamentals to promote justice only time will tell. At any rate, a law degree is generally an ABA requirement, so if I want to represent the underrepresented, acquiring a legal education is a battle worth fighting.

Then there is the second battle. The battle of which every gay student is aware - the invisible battle. The battle involves trying to fit in, living quietly in fear and sometimes anger, and hoping no one will "guess" or "find out." I had hoped that I wouldn't have to fight that battle at VLS. The catalog has assured me that "discrimination based on ... sexual orientation shall not exist in the School."

When I arrived at VLS as a 1st year student, I remember how awkward I felt socially. People don't automatically know when someone is gay. It's not like race or sex. Most people just assume you are heterosexual. The battle began the first week of my first year. When my new found friends started asking me to go to the Flub to pick up some "girls" I found it easy to correct them saying "in grade seventeen, I think we can start calling them women." What I wanted to say was. "I'm gay." I hadn't actually lied. I was simply protecting myself, being new to the school and all. So I found myself spending lots of energy walking the fine line between lying and being discreet.

As the first year progressed I remember reading about students who were outraged that a music group, sponsored in Part by VLS, had sang some songs which made references to homosexuality. I remember student outrage when Dean Chase enforced the policy of non-discrimination, by not allowing the military to recruit on campus. I remember silently being battered in the battle: In the Pub one night a student said to me, "There are no homosexuals here. I don't know who the Dean thinks he's protecting. If there are any gays, why don't they have the guts to stand up for themselves" What could I say? I was too frightened to come out. I did not want to be drawn into a battle. I felt beaten.
The degradation persisted in both subtle and blatant ways well into my second year. From listening passively to offensive gay jokes, to deftly dodging vague insinuations about my sexuality.

I don't mean to gripe about old battle wounds, I just wanted the community to know about the second battle. Recent studies indicate that over 10% of society is homosexual. Based on this statistic, it is likely that there are over 40 lesbians and gay men at VLS. To the heterosexuals in the community: I implore your greater sensitivity and understanding. Although you may not know of anyone who has openly admitted being gay - it is very likely that some of your friends are quietly fighting the second battle.

During my ten day leave of absence, I remembered that law school is simply a means to an end. Law school in not "larger than life" although it may seem so. It is only my short sightedness that has let me get so riles up. In fear of permanent consequences I have made an uncomfortable and somewhat unsuccessful effort to conform to the expectations of the law school community. The result has been a continual fear of being "found out," an inward over sensitivity, and an outward passive acceptance of others' prejudices. The greatest loss has been a loss of self-respect. I realize now that the cost of shortsightedness and living in fear is too great.
Every day now, I wear to school a pink triangle button.

During WWII Nazis made the homosexuals wear pink triangles in order to more easily identify, humiliate, and persecute them. I cannot "be identified," because I voluntarily identify myself. I cannot be humiliated because I have regained my self-respect. Although I may be temporarily persecuted, my education is providing me the tools I need to end persecution and promote justice.