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October 24, 2018 - Image 15

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The Michigan Daily

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people that are not straight, yet there’s
just no community.”

As president of both the Black Business

Society and Out for Business, Sahu
has used the tight-knit community of
the Business School to find a place for
minority groups to come together. Yet,
unlike the University’s Black community,
which she has been able to find a place
in, she finds the LGBT community
remains disjointed. Gay spaces do exist
in Ann Arbor, including the University’s
Spectrum Center. However, many queer
students on campus feel its efforts to
provide the resources needed to foster
a connected LGBT community remain
inadequate — a reality that has tangible
consequences for its students.

“I am surrounded constantly by so

many people,” Sahu confessed in a hushed
tone. “Yet I still feel so alone.”

Music, Theatre & Dance sophomore

Alix Curnow echoed this sentiment of
seclusion to me. As the flicker of the
Michigan Theatre’s sign lit the right side
of her face, she detailed the struggle she
has faced in search of a community of her

own.

“I feel very isolated,” she explained, her

entire face now drowned in the light. “I
went through many stages of depression
and most of it was rooted in trying to find
where this part of me fit in my life.”

Curnow was ready to immerse herself

in the progressive Ann Arbor community,
hoping to find refuge in a place where she
would not just be tolerated, but embraced.
However, her time spent trying to fully
discover her own self became increasingly
disheartening.

“Friends, even people that are gay, have

questioned my sexuality — telling me I’m
just confused.”

“Even though friends try to offer their

support, it’s lonely,” her shaded eyes now
fixated on the floor below. “And being
able to sit down in class and just knowing
if there were other people like me would
make things so much easier.”
M

idnight came and the empty
booths and folded chairs
signaled it was time to pack

up. Gripping my empty mug and the
hastily-scribbled notes from the day, I

began to head home. The brisk chill that
waited patiently at the door accompanied
me on the walk that night.

Passing through the places I had grown

to know during my time at Michigan, I
spotted friends and former classmates
around each mindless turn of the corner.

Maybe I wasn’t so alone, after all.
But with each step closer to home,

the sidewalks grew barer. Approaching
the stairs of my apartment building,
the outlines of two figures under the
dying street light were etched out of the
darkness. As the sound of my sneakers
dragging across the cracked pavement
below broke the silence of the night,
the lock of their lips became undone.
In unison, they jolted their heads in my
direction, as if they had been caught
doing something wrong. I could now
recognize they were both men. Almost
instinctively, they took two steps back
from one another. The air now felt colder
than before.

“How’s it going, man?” one nodded as

I passed by, as if they were testing my
reaction to what I had seen.

I approached the door, feeling the

icy touch of its frigid handle. Memories
began to flood my mind as that same,
bitter Michigan chill danced through my
fingers. My eyes watered, and whether
the single tear that managed to escape
was from the gust of wind or the influx of
memories, I do not know. Yet, as I crawled
into bed that night, my freshman self took
a hold of my mind.

The fear that I saw in the faces of

those two men outside was all too
familiar. It was the same fear I felt just
three years earlier, walking through an
unfamiliar campus with my freshman
year roommate. That fear of rejection,
how others may react. Suddenly, that
insidious, creeping isolation began to
re-emerge in my mind.

Hoping to clear my thoughts, I peered

outside my frosted window, but now,
beneath that same, dying streetlight lay
nothing but leaf-covered pavement.

There I knew, despite the people I’ve

come to know and the things I’ve come to
learn, I could not escape that unshakable
loneliness.

Wednesday, October 24, 2018// The Statement
7B

Courtesy of Sam Goldin

Caleb Grimes

Courtesy of Sam Goldin

Alix Curnow

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