Illumination and Administration: SAU admin on their hopes to foster dialogue with LBGTQ+ students

A worn green armchair sits in the corner surrounded by shelves of encyclopedias, devotionals and Biblical commentaries. Papers, reading glasses, three used mugs and a ping pong ball are scattered on a desk across from it.

By Kayla Williamson

A worn green armchair sits in the corner surrounded by shelves of encyclopedias, devotionals and Biblical commentaries. Papers, reading glasses, three used mugs and a ping pong ball are scattered on a desk across from it.

Some consider it a safe space to talk about their sexual identity.

“I don’t know how, but some [students] have chosen to come talk to me about it,” University Chaplain Brian Kono said. “As they sit in that chair and talk, I try to never make my opinion or my belief stand above the person or my relationship with them.”

The bulk of their conversation is not about what the Bible says about sexuality, but how they are processing this with their family, what shapes their identity, why they think God made them this way.

It is a conversation full of questions and listening.

It is a conversation an estimated 9.5 million Americans have had, according to a study by the Williams Institute in 2014.

It is conversation the Spring Arbor University (SAU) administration is trying to cultivate.

Living on a school campus that prohibits homosexual behavior creates a student perceived barrier to cultivating an environment of welcome conversation and loving support. Bridging that gap while maintaining student handbook rules is a challenge administrators like Kono are trying to overcome.

[It] was very revealing to me that a student didn’t think they could come out to me or an administrator without there being some sort of response from us. – Kim Hayworth, VP for Student Success and Calling

Whether the attempts land successfully or not depends on the level of trust at an individual level.

“I hope that it’s because they trust me,” Kono said. “They know my heart. It’s not unique to me. You know those that you trust because of the good conversations you have with them.”

The role of community standards

In a meeting with students, a girl asked Vice President for Student Success and Calling Kim Hayworth if someone has ever come out to her.

Her answer: absolutely.

“She was shocked, and her shock shocked me,” Hayworth said. “That was very revealing to me that a student didn’t think they could come out to me or an administrator without there being some sort of response from us.”

For Hayworth, the challenge was realizing student perception of administration—that if someone came out to an administrator, unknown concequences await. She realized the effort she and other administrators will have to do to overcome urban legends or the label of “administration.”

Both she and Associate Vice President for Student Development and Learning Dan Vanderhill emphasize the difference between identifying as LGBTQ+ and participating in LGBTQ+ behavior.

The Student Handbook states, “All students, regardless of age, residency or status, are required to abstain from cohabitation, any involvement in premarital or extramarital sexual activity, or homosexual activity (including same-sex dating behaviors). This includes the promotion, advocacy, and defense of the aforementioned activities.”

“I hope people understand that it’s not against the rules to be LGBTQ any more than it be against the rules for someone to want to have sex outside of marriage,” Vanderhill said. “It’s against behaviors which are clearly stated in the handbook. I think they’re fair expectations even if there’s room for disagreement on them.”

I don’t believe we should interact with, like this calculus in my mind of how I should interact or approach you. To me that is very unhealthy. It’s like a false reality that we create when we affiliate with each other in that manner. – Kim Hayworth, VP for Student Success and Calling

How will we engage with the other?

A group of administrators and faculty started meeting at the beginning of fall to brainstorm how to be intentional with conversations.

It is both the school and an individual’s responsibility to create safe spaces where students can feel comfortable approaching someone, Hayworth said.

“I don’t believe we should interact with, like this calculus in my mind of how I should interact or approach you,” Hayworth said. “To me that is very unhealthy. It’s like a false reality that we create when we affiliate with each other in that manner.”

This “thinktank” as they call themselves, has met with students to tell their own stories and the stories of others. By listening to these students, they hope to create more events and opportunities to cultivate community engagement with each other. Next Monday’s chapel speaker, Adam Mearse, and the following dorm talks that night are efforts to “elevate” the conversation.

Yet there is a barrier between the LGBTQ+ community and the non-affirming. SAU is built on the Free Methodist heritage, which does not affirm the LGBTQ+ lifestyle. So how can the SAU community engage with each other without forgetting that heritage?

I see both students and staff faculty just get into this comfortable rut. When we’re in stressful day-to-day things, we just want to sit with people we know at the DC instead of meeting someone new and taking time to listen. – Anna Tabone, Career Advisor

“I don’t have a good answer because I think it can be interpreted as a very painful thing to be non-affirming, but I do believe there’s ways to be so loving and non-affirming,” Tabone said.

Kono is still wrestling with how to best advocate for the other on campus.

“This is a difficult conversation to have,” Kono said. “The weight of the tension that comes is something that I feel very greatly. It becomes a weight. Yes, it can become a negative thing, but I feel it because of the weight of importance that we, as a community called Christian, try to engage these conversations well.”

Strangers Like Me – Anna Tabone’s Story

In high school in 2002, Anna Tabone had a crush.

She and her friend Joe had agreed to go to prom together. A week before the dance, he told her he was gay.

That was the first time Tabone was challenged by what her conservative upbringing had taught her about the lifestyle of the LGBTQ+ community.

“But we went to prom together [with] one of our gay friends and one of my best friends, and it was a blast,” Tabone said. “In that sense, Joe is not an ‘other’ to me. [He’s] someone I really knew and really cared about.”

As a former Resident Director (RD), Community of Learners (COL) leader and now Career Advisor, Tabone has taught and mentored several students in the LGBTQ+ community. She has had students who came out to her as an RD, as someone who will walk with them before they are ready to come out to anyone else.

“That, I feel was maybe one of the most treasured gifts, to have a student trust you with their real self,” Tabone said. “[It] still really chokes me up.”

Engaging with the LGBTQ+ community, or anyone considered “other,” is a fundamental Christian action, not just a principle, Tabone said. They become less of a stranger if their story is told and they are in an environment where they can be themselves.

Engagement starts in small ways, Tabone said.

“I see both students and staff faculty just get into this comfortable rut,” Tabone said. “When we’re in stressful day-to-day things, we just want to sit with people we know at the DC instead of meeting someone new and taking time to listen.”

Kindling Conversation: SAU students and alumni on being LGBTQ+ on a conservative campus

Caitlin Stout, class of 2017, grew up in Jackson and first learned about SAU through her church.

By Elise Emmert & Celeste Fendt

Caitlin Stout, class of 2017, grew up in Jackson and first learned about SAU through her church. The Spring Arbor University (SAU) students in her youth group were part of what convinced her to come to school here. Stout said the idea of having a Christian community on campus also drew her in.

During her four years here, Stout said she grew significantly in her faith and as a dedicated supporter of social justice.

“A lot of [my growth] has been a result of the fact that this has been a very difficult place to be a gay Christian,” Stout said.

For members of the LGBTQ+ community at SAU, finding support in the form of a leader or mentor can be challenging because of limits imposed by the student handbook and community guidelines.

Stout said what helped her through the difficult times was the realization that she was not alone, and the group of friends that was alongside her showing support.

“I always kind of joke that SAU has made me a better Christian but not in any of the ways they intended to,” Stout said. “The LGBT community, both on this campus and at large, has kind of been the group of people who have shown me what church should look like.”

The LGBT community, both on this campus and at large, has kind of been the group of people who have shown me what church should look like. – Caitlin Stout, class of 2017

According to senior W. Cody Pitts, the LGBTQ+ community works mostly underground. But this, he said, is not because of harassment from other students.

“A lot of people that I think go here who are in the (LGBTQ+) community love our community and love the people here,” Pitts said.

Pitts came to SAU wanting to be an activist for the LGBTQ+ community on campus, and spent his sophomore year questioning different things about himself and how he identified before coming out to a few close friends and family.

Later, after working as an RA his sophomore and junior years, Pitts left the job behind since he decided he could no longer continue to agree with everything the school stood for, a contract requirement for student leaders.

Since coming out publicly, Pitts came to be a type of leader to other students on campus who came to him with questions. He also said he has been “a lot happier” this year than he had been in the past.

Ben Coakley, an SAU class of 2017 alumnus, said most of the people he encountered while on campus were willing to have conversations with him concerning sexuality, even when they were non-affirming. Large-scale conversations, he said, probably did not happen as often because people were afraid of upsetting others with their ideas or opinions.

Coakley said he felt “different” growing up, but didn’t know anyone who identified as LGBTQ+ and didn’t have the language to describe what he was feeling. This kept him from being able to have a conversation with himself about sexuality until he met students his freshman year who identified as gay.

During his freshman year, Coakley thought he was the only student wondering about his sexuality because he did not have anyone to talk to. Meeting other LGBTQ+ students on campus gave him a support system of people to talk to with whom he felt more at ease.

“The thing that I hate most is any student feeling like they’re alone and feeling like they don’t have a support system, for whatever reason,” Coakley said. “That should be a concern for everyone, regardless of your theology.”

I just want people to have conversation with the understanding that (for) someone you’re talking to or for someone in the room, this is personal for them – Ben Coakley, class of 2017

LGBTQ+ students not only face feeling alone on campus, but also face being afraid of coming out because of handbook guidelines. Because the handbook prohibits the defense or advocacy of a homosexual lifestyle, even something as simple as identifying as LGBTQ+ could be seen as breaking school policies.

An anonymous member of the LGBTQ+ community at SAU said the student body has been their biggest support system on campus. Not every student, however, contributes to this support.

The student said most SAU students have validated and protected the LGBTQ+ students, but others dismiss them.

“When it’s something that you can’t change about you, it really hurts when people put that down and say that it doesn’t exist,” the student said.

Dreams for the Future

Despite the difficulties LGBTQ+ students face on campus, some do have a vision for the future of the community.

For Coakley, progress is best found in visibility and dialogue. This means both acknowledging there are LGBTQ+ students on campus and allowing conversation about differing viewpoints to take place publicly.

“I just want people to have conversation with the understanding that (for) someone you’re talking to or for someone in the room, this is personal for them,” Coakley said.

The anonymous student doesn’t expect SAU to become affirming of the LGBTQ+ community anytime soon. But they hope it will become more open about this crucial topic by hosting panel discussions and creating a more inviting atmosphere.

Pitts agrees with the emphasis on representation, and hopes the school would eventually allow the LGBTQ+ community to form a group or organization where they could publicly affirm what they believe. With this, he said students could approach the group, start conversations and come to their own conclusions.

The goal is not necessarily to make the school change its values or beliefs. The Free Methodist Church does not affirm homosexuality, but Pitts said part of living in a contemporary world is being able to engage with people who disagree with you. A place for students to be out publicly and support the LGBTQ+ community without fear would embody that.

“It’s not really about what you believe,” Pitts said. “It’s about showing people love.”