The Michigan Daily - michigandaily.com RADICAL LOVE From Page 1B According to Cabriales, the mainstream gay agenda often entails fighting around one identi- ty, which he doesn't feel is the right approach. He recalled the words of Caribbean-American feminist and civil, rights activist Audre Lorde: "There is no such thing as a single- issue struggle because we do not live single-issue lives." "We are not single-issue peo- ple," Cabriales added. This realization of a need for a space where queer people of color wouldn't have to prioritize one identity over another helped bring Ngo, Uduma and Cabriales to the Coalition. Ngo was first introduced to the Coalition after participating in the rXs intragroup dialogue, a program that preceded the Coali- tion for Queer People of Color and is now run through the Coali- tion. Launched in fall 2011, rXs is a semester-long dialogue program for LGBTQ people of color that,like the Coalition, seeks to create a safe space for queer and trans* people of color to share their lived experi- ences and connect with others. "I had just come out, so I was so focused on my sexual orientation and so focused on gettinggay males to accept me," Ngo said. Whel Coalition founders Gordon and Chen approached him about join- ing the RxS dialogue, he was "very apprehensive and even scared." "But going through the process really changed my whole out- look on identities and reinforced to me that I didn't have to, and I shouldn't have to, pick one or the other," Ngo said. "I should be able to live my life fully, recognizing all of myidentities." Sustaining diversity With its history of liberal activism and radical social move- ments, Ann Arbor and the Univer- sity's campus are often assumed to be a bubble of tolerance and acceptance. As Uduma and Ngo explained, that can be a problem- atic and blinding approach to how we view the campus. "I think it paralyzes people into thinking that they have this check- list," Ngo said "As long as they check off 'OK, I'm a liberal; OK, I have a diverse group of friends; OK, I treat everyone equally,' they think they can walk around and just feel good about themselves. I think that's actually a boundary for them to actually go deeper and delve into the biases that we all have." Uduma agreed, but also recog- nized that there are some people who come to Ann Arbor who feel the safest they've ever felt. "For some," she said, "Ann Arbor is the place where they feel safest to be themselves." "I can attest to that," Ngo inter- jected. "But for others, a lot of us feel stifled here," Uduma continued. "It's a liberalism without being conscious about what's going on and without being critical about what's going on." Part of that disconnect comes fromthe fact that some feelthe Uni- versity itself has many shortcom- ings when it comes to answering the needs of queer students of color. "In my experience, all the departments at the University have this message of wanting diversity," Ngo said. "I feel like it's a lot of lip service, saying that they're. inclu- sive and saying that they have a lot Thursday, October 10, 2013 - 3B HFA T H AND FITNESS COLUMN When feeling SAD, seek help. The Coalition collaborates with other groups and co-sponsored an event celebrating Latin@ culture on campus on Oc ofdiversitybuthavingno actionfor how to really implement and how to really be trueto their word." Uduma reiterated that the Uni- versity has to put more action behind the dialogue on diversity. "There's such a focus on num- bers and increasing the numbers for diversity, but there's noth- ing about sustaining the students that you already have," she said. "What happens when you have this increase, and you don't know .what to do with these students? They're still goingto face the same problems that you're not willingto change structurally or implement more programs beyond just talk- ing aboutit." "It has way more to do than just programming," Ngo added. "If the staff in your department is all white, why aren't you talk- ing about that? Are you trying to recruit more people of color and more queer people of colorto really serve the students? Are these stu- dents even a priority in the first place? So I think just structurally, those are issues I've seen on cam- pus. You can say that you want diversity, but where is the dedica- tion? Where is the actual action?" One of the most visible resourc- es and spaces for multi-cultural students on campus is the Trot- ter Multicultural Center, which originally opened in 1971 as a black student cultural center, but was expanded to become an inclusive student multicultural center in 1981. The Trotter House, while providing useful programs and' resources to students of color, has its downfalls. "It's falling apart," Uduma said. "That place is not sustainable." The Trotter House also doesn't necessarily provide a safe space for queer students of color, as the building is located near frater- nity houses. Fraternities, as Ngo explained, are not always safe spaces for queer people. When asked about where the Coalition sees a need for reform at the University level, Ngo echoed Cabriales's belief in a plurality of issues. "There's not necessarily a queer-person-of-color issue," Ngo said. "All issues are geer issues. Because we haveto get healthcare, too; we have to be in these classes; we might have to go to SAPAC; we also have to go to UHS. We need to make sure these departments real- ize that queer students are on this campus, and they need to tailor their services for us, and people of color, and the intersection of both." Creating safe spaces creating a community and safe space for people to be themselves and love themselves. This year's theme for the Coalition is "Radi- cal Love." Ngo said the Coali- tion's core has been grappling with a critical question this year: "What's the point of expending all of this energy on the University or sources that don't care about us, on trying to convince people to care about us when they don't and they never will?" The Coalition answered by tak- ing an inward look and deciding to channel its energy into fostering a community where queer people of color can feel safe, affirmed and empowered. It accomplishes this through events like Coalition T(ea), a weekly eventhosted bythe Coalition that allows queer people ofcolor to talk about their personal lives as well as current events and news on campus and beyond. "We're tryingto focus our ener- gy on really loving ourselves, each other, on creating a space where we can be us and not apologize for it," Ngo said. "And from there, people will have a stronger foun- dation to go out and radically love ourselves in front of other people." "We've given that space to peo- ple to say you are special; you are good enough; you are beautiful enough," Uduma said. "You get to define who you are in this space, and I think that's radical in and of itself. Because we allow people to be who they are in a world that tells them they can't be who they are." Ngo quoted feminist person of color Kim Karin Crosby, who changed his life at the Coalition's "Color of Change" conference last year, saying: "Our most radi- cal work is to love ourselves." To Ngo, creating spaces for people to love themselves and not be sorry for who they are is what the Coali- tion is all about. It might not look like what people generally think of as activism, but creating com- munity and safe spaces can change people's lives and how they view themselves. "In that one moment, I can be who I am around people who aren't going to judge me, who are going to understand," Uduma said of the Coalition community. "Then, I can go back into the world a little bit stronger and feel a little better about myself. And feel like I can sustain myself for as long as I need to until I come back to this space with these people and get more of that." Cabriales described one of the first events the Coalition orga- nized. Called Family Barbeque,the logistics of the event were simple: a gathering of peers for a meal and conversation. However, the event was only open to queer people of color. Family Barbeque immedi- ately created a buzz, some of it in opposition from white or straight- identifying people who were excluded from the event. But the other reaction was one of intense revelation: Many attendees had never been in a room surrounded entirely by queer people of color. Creating a community like that, Cabriales said, was something that simply had never happened for most of the queer students of color who attended. "We create, deconstruct, rei- magine community constantly," Cabriales said. Empoweringthe community The structure of the Coalition reflects its commitment to a sense of community. The organization is non-hierarchical, and even though there are designated chair and core positions, that's just for orga- nizational reasons. The Coalition's core doesn't have a designated leader or leaders making executive decisions: Everyone participates in the process together. The Coalition also gives agency to its general members who might not sit on the executive board but still have the power to plan and organize events around their interests.Atthe Coalition'sgeneral meetings, all members spend up to two hours together, discussing what they'd like to focus on that month. If someone comes forward with an idea for an event they'd like to plan, the Coalition gives that person the opportunity to plan and spearhead the event themselves. "We're really about making sure that when we say we're a commu- nity, we actually have action behind it," Uduma said. "So this is a chance for peopleto get involved with what they're passionate about." Ngo, for example, organized a Coalition event that addressed domestic violence and intimate partner violence last year, even though he didn't hold an official position at that time. Though he wasn't a part of the core and had little experience, the Coalition gave him the agency to lead the event and make it his own. "I still felt like a part of the com- munity anyways and felt empow- ered to plan this event," Ngo said. That emphasis on community and engagement is what drew Engineering freshman' Sebastian Rios to the Coalition. He attended the organization's first mass meet- ing this year and was blown away by how many people of different identities he met. "I really think it's important for an organization to have an active role," Rios said, "to bring some sort of supportto minorities and to sub- groups in the community." Rios also attended one of the Coalition T(ea)s, which he described as an ongoing dialogue, where people can discuss and analyze the societal implications, attitudes and misconceptions about relevant topics. The Coali- tion invites queer people of color, straight people of color, queer white people and straight white people to participate in these dialogues. The Coalition T(ea) conversa- tions are another way the Coali- tion constructs new spaces for people to share their experiences and connect with others, ulti- mately building on that foundation of racial love and radical self-love. Most of the teas are held at public spaces like the Espresso Royale on State Street, but the Coalition also makes sure to host some teas in private, undisclosed'places for people who may prefer anonymity when discussing their identities. "I think that just because we are talking about things that no one else is talking about, that breeds a sense of intimidation or fear," Ngo said. "But all we are doing is reclaiming spaces and our own experiences and saying we need spaces to talk about these issues. And if that's radical, then so be it." The onlyslightly comi- cal aspect of Seasonal Affective Disorder is its ever-so-appropriate acronym: SAD. It does, in fact, make you sad. But beyond that, there's noth- ing even rel- atively funny about this condition, especially for us Michi- CARLY ganders. KEYES A recur- - rent winter depression also known as the "winter blues," SAD usually begins in October or Novem- ber and subsides in March or April, and includes symptoms like "oversleeping, daytime fatigue, carbohydrate craving and weightgain, and in more extreme scenarios, hopeless- ness, social withdrawal and sui- cidal thoughts," accordingto the National Alliance on Mental Ill- ness (NAMI) Michigan Chapter. The depth of the havoc wrought by SAD relates to the amount of daylight during autumn and winter, which can affect levels of chemicals and hormones in the brain like sero- tonin, a mood elevator, and mela- tonin, a sleep-pattern regulator, according to University Depres- sion Center. So, it makes sense that SAD hits Michigan hard - our win- ters are a never-endingsupply of gray days and a lengthy string of sorry-lookingskies. (Note to self: another good reason to move to Los Angeles when I graduate.) The less the sun shines, the less we shine inside. Obvious, right? We all know that it feels inherently better when we look up at the sky and see a bright, blue abyss rather than a dull, drab oblivion. But we can't ignore the hard science of SAD, because it reveals why one of the most effective treatments for this mental health disorder and the like is anti-depressant medication. I don't advocate relying on an all-powerful "magic pill" to do all the work for you, to chase away the blues and illuminate your eyes with rainbows. University Depres- sion Center suggests all of the usual, undeniably help- ful activities to combat SAD: Get plenty of exercise, spend time outside, eat a healthy diet and practice relaxation techniques like meditation and yoga. NAMI also recom- mends installing bright, white fluorescent light bulbs, or a special lamp, as a form of "light therapy." But in the midst of a depres- sive state, sometimes it's not so easy to move a muscle to change a thought. Tell- ing someone who's clinically depressed to "just cheer up" is like telling an alcoholic to "just quit drinking." This is not a quick fix. Depression, like alcoholism, is not a conscious choice; it's a mental illness. And to end my own battle with depression, I needed more than help from Mother Nature. First, I needed a doctor. During the fall semester of my freshman year at the Uni- versity of Pennsylvania; despite my success in the classroom and on the soccer field, I start- ed feeling down for no reason. Pretty soon, I had every SAD symptom. But I just chalked it up as standard fatigue from an incredibly active, stressful lifestyle. I was wrong. Soon, there was nothing standard about my fatigue. Every day was a strug- gle to get out of bed, to get to class, to get through a training session, to get toothpaste on my toothbrush. I morphed from a 3.5 GPA student in the Wharton business school and a starter on the varsity soccer team into a lethargic zombie behind closed blinds with a Taking Back Sun- day playlist on repeat. You can't just will yourself to be happier. "What is happening to me?" I thought. "Who would choose this?" Then my gradesdropped like crashingstock, and I was onthe verge of quitting the soccer team because it was hard to sprint around a track when a walk to classbecame a chore. Miserable and hopeless, I finally admitted that I needed more help than I could give myself and made an appointment with the Pennclinic. After a few weeks on medication, I went on a run for the firsttime in months, and I cried my eyes out afterward because I feltlike myself again. Just as a diabetic, or anyone else with a chronic condition, needs dailymedication, I'm no different. Mental health disorders are no different. So, if SAD dark- ens your doorstepthis season, and you find yourself in a situation like mine, where self-care is futile, don't be afraid to seek additional help. It made all the difference for me. Keyes is soaking up the sun. To join her, e-mail cekmusic@umich.edu. CONNECTIONS CONFERENCE o REIISIE: LSA.UMICH.EDU/LSAIT/CONNECTIONS THE KALEIDOSCOPE OF U-M 0 JJm 0 TECHNOLOGY FOR RESEARCHERS ISAINFORMATION TECHNOLOGY UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN