Safe spaces are spaces for only certain people of a marginalized group where they can be themselves with no judgment or questions and be able to have a community with other people who share their marginalized identity.
Safe spaces have been popping up in liberal arts colleges around the country. Some are for LBGT+ students, Black students, international students and possibly even more! Our college just introduced the LGBT+ safe space in Compton 001 (spearheaded and designed by Melissa Chesanko, a member of Center for Diversity and Inclusion who has done so much for LGBT+ students at Wooster). I’ve been getting a lot of questions about it since I’m an SGA senator, a safe zone trainer, but most importantly, and what brings people to me for those questions, an LGBT+ person.
I’ve gotten questions like “Why do LGBT+ students need a safe space on campus?,” “Why aren’t all people welcome?” and “Why can’t RAs walk through there?” The answer to all of those questions is basically the same. LGBT+ people need spaces to make communities and meaningful connections with people like them. More importantly, though, we need a space away from the prying eyes of people who ask us questions. Not that they aren’t important and don’t deserve a good answer, but sometimes being the queer that explains the queer world to cisgender and straight people can be tiring. It’s good to have a space where you can be free from the possibility of having to explain what a pansexual is or why we need our own space.
The fact also is that this isn’t at all a new idea. LGBT+ people have been making their own spaces since at least the 1920s, when they ran the speakeasies all the way to the advent of gay bars, lesbian cafes and bars and women’s community houses (these were women’s only spaces that offered a variety of resources to women and were mostly run by lesbian women). Sometimes queer people just need a space, because every other space is dominated by heterosexual and cisgender people. I’m not saying that queer people absolutely need to get away from straight cis people and hate them. We don’t; we just want to have a community of people, and these spaces are the easiest way for us to access that.
Let me try to put this in a weird example to explain it better. Think of it like going to a social event at a gaming convention and finding some non-gamers there who are just interested in observing gaming culture, making assumptions and asking you questions about gaming. You didn’t come to that convention to explain to someone what being a gamer is like, you came there so you could find friends who were like you that shared similar attributes, interests and/or lifestyles. That’s why LGBT+ people want a safe space. So that they can do those things. They can find companionship and people like them.
But, on a slightly darker note, there is a reason that it’s called a safe space. LGBT+ people face a lot of discrimination, violence and fear when out and about. I’ve had queer students tell me they are afraid to leave campus or walk down Beall Ave. , simply because of who they love, how they look or how they identify. It’s nice to have a space where you can go and not have to worry about your safety. For me, it’s a space where I can take my girlfriend and know neither of us will be asked about our appearances; I won’t have to constantly be on alert in case someone tries anything on me or my girlfriend because we are both trans. It’s nice to have a space where you can know you don’t have to worry about that kind of stuff. That’s why people like us throughout history have created those spaces.
There has always been a need. Until LGBT+ people have full equality and homophobia and transphobia are eradicated, we will continue to need and create such spaces for ourselves.
Robin Perry, a Contributing Writer for the Voice, can be reached for comment at RPerry20@wooster.edu.