Are you my mother?
I remember seeing pictures of a scientist who did studies on imprinting, specifically ducklings. Or was it goslings. What lodges in my mind is a person walking across a lawn trailed by a string of ducklings. The little birds had come to see the researcher as Mama, even though the absurdity of this was obvious to every other creature who viewed the photograph.
In some ways I too am a dumb cluck. A sitting duck. A turkey. A silly goose. (Or whatever fowl pun you can come up with.) My alma mater has somehow imprinted on my psyche and I continue to carry a connection to the school long after I know better.
Why should I care if they seem unwilling to admit the existence of people like me in the world? Why should I care that they insulate and isolate themselves from the larger world and pretend their cloak of holiness keeps LGBT people from appearing on campus, emerging from the chrysalis of alumni, raising the spectre of discomfited donors?
Why should I care? Let me tell you why I should care; because human lives are at stake, because the messages trumpeted can and do wound, because the people denigrated, discounted and declared anathema are not nameless disembodied figments of the imagination, they are Taylor University alumni, current and former students, staff and faculty; they are parents, siblings and relatives of alumni and current students; they are a part of the “Taylor family,” like it or not, and as human beings (let alone potential donors) are entitled to be treated with respect and dignity, recognized and extended common courtesy.
Photo by tifotter at flickr