Campus Ministry pledges compassion, inclusion
Letter to the Editor
A miracle happened today: I went to Sunday Mass alone for the first time in a dozen years. Actually, it was the first time I went anywhere alone in that length of time. I suffer from panic attacks with agoraphobia. These disorders are very crippling, as they often confine me to my home or even only my room, for days or weeks at a time. It is not much of a life.
These attacks began when I was in my 20s, immediately after I "cameout" to my parents. The separation anxiety built up over the years was too much to bear. Messages from society, as well as from Notre Dame where I was an undergrad in the '80s, hammered into my psyche that I would lose my family, my friends, my job, my Church and perhaps my life if it was ever discovered that I am gay. Surely my parents would put me out on the street.
It happened to a friend of mine (also an Notre Dame student) the year before; she never returned to Notre Dame, and never went home again.
These homophobic messages were stronger than I was, and I am still struggling with the fallout today. My parents never threw me out. Still, the damage to my mental health was done.
Today, my alma mater reached out to me as a gay person for the first time. It was Solidarity Sunday, an opportunity to preach tolerance and inclusiveness for gays, lesbians and bisexuals. I am a member of GALA-ND/SMC, and I never believed I would see such a day on campus ... but I did, and I saw it with my own two eyes.
Gripping the steering wheel with all my strength, I drove to the Basilica and stood breathless in the crowd at the back of the church. I had not been to Mass in Sacred Heart since I graduated, although I live not far away. I never felt welcome here before. As the familiar "Glory to God in the highest and peace to his people on earth" was sung by the choir, just as I remember it 15 years ago, a heavy burden was lifted from my heart. I wept, though I was no longer afraid!
There I stood: in a crowd of people, away from the safety of home, and, in my life experience, "alone." But I no longer trembled. It might not be much to you, but for me, it was a miracle.
The only reason I attempted to attend Mass today was because I felt Campus Ministry had sincerely reached out to welcome me — a gay person. I thank them for this. I thank the Lord for working in mysterious ways within Sacred Heart to give me a new-found courage. And I thank all of you who support equal rights for gay and lesbian persons. "Come to me," He says, and I now I know I can.
I am a member of GALA in the hope that no one will suffer the pain of the past dozen years which I endure because of internalized homophobia. A small gesture — a prayer card at a Mass — literally changed my constitution today. Thus, the significance of this gesture was profound. In stark contrast to the advertising ban, it was the first I have seen of any tangible spirit of inclusion at Notre Dame. It resulted in the Spirit working within me, too; for my own paralysis is at times no less than that of the man whom Jesus told to get up and walk.
The Mass today was the culmination of years of give-and-take by the administration and the University's gay and lesbian children and friends. But oh, what a difference it made in my life! For the first time in years, I stood alone, but not afraid.
Please Notre Dame, do more to welcome me and all gay and lesbian alumni/ae home! You cannot imagine how wonderful it feels...
Anonymous
October 31, 1999
All Viewpoint Stories for Tuesday, November 2, 1999
