CHAPTER 17
brEVAN
There are some positions in the school that you really have no contact with, and therefore, you have no idea about the person who fills that role.
For some people, that’s staff and faculty outside of their own departments.
I admit I’m not familiar with a lot of the faculty who aren’t a part of the athletic department or the humanities and science departments, since that’s where the majority of my classes fall.
The administration is an entirely different beast, and I can see on one hand why you might never know them other than that they’re there, or if you have a particular reason to know them. You just know that they’re there doing their jobs. They’re a large part of why the school runs.
On the other hand, it seems sad that they’re not known. They do so much for the school. I didn’t know that Miss Ito had a large hand in scholarships and in making it possible for those without a means to attend RDU.
Maybe more tragically, our provost should be well known throughout the school because he’s amazing. The things he’s done for the school, how much he’s made it grow and thrive—those are things that the student body should know. We should celebrate him.
It’s difficult to look away from him. He has no idea how much his words hit home.
I’ve never identified as queer, but I think that’s primarily because I had other things taking up too much room in my mind.
Were we going to have to move again this weekend, and I’d have to miss more football?
Were we going to have food tonight or just a slice of bread and cheese?
Was I still going to be able to play football?
I imagine so many of my thoughts would have been different if I hadn’t been constantly plagued with these worries as a teenager.
Even coming to RDU and having all the queer joy spring up around me, I felt almost removed.
Not exactly like I didn’t belong, but that maybe I just belonged on the outskirts looking in.
I’ve since solidly claimed the word as my own.
I’m happy to be proud of the queer community.
But it doesn’t truly have a defining role in my life.
Like… my gender, sexuality, or anything.
To be honest, it’s not something that I’ve thought about.
My brain is still programmed to think about other things, like where to go during breaks and over the summer, since my grandma died at the end of my first year at RDU.
I’m plagued with worries about losing my scholarship, not being drafted, and having nowhere to go after I graduate. What if my food scholarship runs out? What if I fail my exam? All the what-ifs that never go away.
I know that I’m queer; I’m just not sure where inside me is the right fit. I identify as a male, but the other things…? Thinking about them makes my chest tight. It’s overwhelming. A little scary.
Lunch is delivered, and we remain in the conference room to eat.
Everyone is still talking about Kendrick’s last statement excitedly.
My eyes continue to meet his, and I can’t stop thinking about how tragic it is that most of the student body doesn’t know this man and everything he’s done for us.
All the things he continues to do for us.
The amazing things he still wants to do.
“Man, I wish I could see RDU for myself,” Einar says with a sigh.
There’s a lot of agreement around the table.
As I’m chewing, an idea hits me. After swallowing, I say, “It would be kind of neat if we had an exchange program to help establish the relationship we’re working toward.
tóreargleei University could send some students in their second and third years to us, and they can see what RDU is all about firsthand and bring it back here.
And RDU could send some students in their third and fourth years to help establish different parts of the program.
Everyone is a part of CAP, so there’s maybe some training or something.
But that also gives us the opportunity to know our sister school intimately, you know? ”
Silence meets my remark. Everyone looks at me. My heart races. That was a stupid idea, wasn’t it? I feel my skin flush as I turn my eyes to meet Kendrick’s. He’s watching me with the same almost startled expression as everyone else.
I shift uncomfortably in my seat and am startled when Jerome says, “That’s amazing, Brevan, yes!”
The table gets loud as everyone talks excitedly about the possibilities of setting it up, and I’m left staring at everyone wide-eyed.
“It could be offered as a study abroad and exchange program combined,” Wendy says excitedly. “I don’t know what tuition is here, but besides airfare, it must be pretty close to a wash, right? So, there shouldn’t need to be any additional charges.”
“Room and board,” one of the tóreargleei students points out.
“There are scholarships for that. It can be worked into tuition for a semester,” Wendy says, waving it off.
“We’ve talked about families within the communities sponsoring a student,” Miss Ito muses. “But haven’t had a need for it. This might be that need.”
“Wendy’s right, though,” Dr. Weaver says. “I think tuition is pretty similar between the two schools. That’s something we looked at early on.”
“It’s already going to be part of the ambassador program, right?” Xile says. “Which means the pool of people who trade campuses are within a small pool, so I think any extra cost can just be built into the program.”
“Yes,” Anna says excitedly. “This isn’t simply studying abroad.
This has a different purpose. Yes, we’re still taking courses and experiencing a different culture, but this has an additional purpose of building a stronger relationship between sister schools, especially while everyone moves toward the same goals.
It’s about promoting togetherness. A queer togetherness network of schools and people. ”
“Ohmygod,” Helgi says, and everyone looks at her. She’s practically bouncing in her seat. “Oh, I got it. The plan is for more sister schools, right? Not just between Rainbow Dorset and tóreargleei?”
“Correct,” Kendrick says.
“Earlier, we were talking about the limited course programs at tóreargleei University and the curricular difficulty of needing new students to support them and having the attractive programs to attract them.” Helgi waves her hand in the air.
“What if we build an ‘à la carte’ degree program between all the sibling schools within the queer togetherness network? Maybe Rainbow Dorset offers a certain number of courses that can be checked off toward a specific degree, and then a university in Mexico has another few, and then a university in Scotland has another few. That will go a long way in attracting enrollment all over for everyone. It promotes togetherness, it exposes students to travel and different cultures, and it broadens the scope of what queer people all over the world face and how we’re working to make it better. ”
“It’s not just seeing all these sibling schools listed together on a website telling us they offer safe, quality education to queer students, but it’s putting that partnership in action,” Wendy says.
“We should have gotten the students involved a long time ago,” Byndley says. She’s tapping away on her phone, maybe taking notes.
“These are all great ideas,” Dr. Albertson says enthusiastically.
“I love everything about them.” He looks at Kendrick with a wide smile.
“I think Helgi’s idea might need to wait a while as we build partners and get all the schools on board, but I think we can start figuring out how that would look and work now.
Your Brevan’s idea, though.” He shakes his head, looking at me with a big, big grin.
“Brilliant. Perfect. Why didn’t we think of that already? ”
My cheeks heat. Kendrick is once again watching me with a smile. A smile that feels like it’s just between us, even though we’re surrounded by people. It makes warmth spread throughout my body.
Throughout lunch, we continue talking about what that would look like. I don’t speak much as I munch while I listen to everyone throwing out another reason why it’s such a fun idea.
Like the guy who wanted more access to sports.
Visiting other schools in the Queer Together Network—an accidental title, but one that seems to have stuck as they continue talking.
But within that network, there are going to be opportunities to practice and train with other schools’ athletic programs.
I wonder what he’d think about Coach Lemon.
A smile splits my face as I think about it.
One of my favorite things about games is the new students on other teams when they get a look at our coach.
He’s as opposite of the definition of what people think is ‘masculine enough’ to coach a full-contact sport such as football.
The way they stare at him in horror, fascination, and disdain is funny. They think he’s a joke. They don’t think it’s funny when we kick their asses. Nor when we have more NFL drafts each year, when they might not see one at all.
They still like to think that it’s proof that he shouldn’t be a coach because we don’t win championships. Yes, we’d love to win the College Football Playoffs Championship, but in the end, I’d much rather be drafted to a team than have the height of my career end with a college championship.
I look around the room and wonder what they’d think about Coach Frost. He’s a break in stereotypes if there’s ever been one.
Then again, that can be said for all our teams, right?
There’s a stupid stigma that queer people are less than straight people and therefore not good enough to play professional sports.
They’re wrong, and all RDU’s teams prove that every year. Every season. Every single game.
It would be so cool to have these guys come to RDU and bring back the same excitement and love we have for our campus. When we have more sister schools, word of RDU will spread all over the world.
The idea gives me goosebumps. It won’t happen while I’m a student, but it’ll happen within my lifetime. I’m so excited to be a part of it.
I wonder if I can somehow make my someday dream library a supportive place for this new adventure. RDU already has a great library, but mine will be unique. How can I make it support RDU’s mission, though?
We’re still talking animatedly about the promise that both of the new programs we just dreamed up will bring to the mission of CAP and the even newer Queer Together Network. Dr. Albertson is convinced that the world is going to want to be a part of it because we’re going to be doing something big.
My peers stop him, though. It’s not enough that a school wants to be a part of it.
They need to be not just queer-tolerant.
That’s not going to fly. The entire point of CAP is to establish safe environments for young queer people to get a top-notch education without having to face bullying, hate, and hazing every day.
“We shouldn’t have to live in fear just to get a college degree,” Philomena says. “Not everyone who wants to be part of our programs gets to join us.”
“She’s right,” one of the tóreargleei students says. “We always need to remember why we’re doing this. We’re building something strong and monumental, and the reach we’re going to have is going to be noticed. Maybe envied. But that doesn’t mean they get to come on board.”
“I agree,” Kendrick says, inclining his head.
“You, my students, are always at the heart of what we do. I have a very long list of criteria that a school, and those running it, need to meet before they’re allowed to partner in CAP.
This isn’t about creating a giant network.
It’s about creating a better future for you. ”
“Yes!” Dr. Albertson agrees. “Definitely. I’m all for this. tóreargleei University is so excited and honored not only to be a part of this Queer Together Network but to be Rainbow Dorset University’s very first sister school.”
Kendrick grips his arm in agreement, but his eyes meet mine. My stomach flips.