As Mount Holyoke evolves, alums must too

BY SARAH/SAL COSMEDY ’20

Performances for alums are simultaneously the most rewarding and stressful of my a cappella group’s gigs. Every time we perform for alums, they’re attentive and tell us just how special it is for them to hear the V8s sing. But as Mount Holyoke is an ever-changing place, the version of the school they remember is often very different from the one that I know. So along with the praise and kindness we receive at these performances, we also encounter gendered language. 

This past weekend, the V8s drove nearly two hours to perform for a group of alums, and as soon as we were through the door, we were greeted with “Welcomes, ladies! Come on in.” I always think I’m used to this language, but as a genderfluid transmasculine person, I still flinch every time I’m lumped into such an overtly feminine category. The hardest part is that I know how kind the alums are trying to be. “Make sure to help yourself to all the food in there, you gals must be hungry!” “Could we get all the young women in the kitchen for a picture?” “You girls are so talented!” 

I feel simultaneously grateful that they are expressing so much kindness and hurt that I am being misgendered over and over again. I so desperately want to correct them, but when is the time right? What are the right words? This is especially scary considering how important alums are as donors to the College. I have no way to know how much information they have about the trans policy, or how they feel about it, so to out myself to these people could potentially be dangerous for me or damaging to the V8s. The V8s perform frequently at alum events and rely upon our alum network for donations. 

At this performance I asked around, wondering if the entire group would be willing to say names and pronouns when we introduced ourselves so that I would have the opportunity to stop the constant barrage of “ladies.” We’d only been at the venue for a half hour, and I swear we’d heard it 15 times. They agreed, and the first six people to speak introduced themselves with she/her pronouns. Right before my turn, the coordinator spoke up and said “What is this pronoun thing you’re doing?” No one was prepared for this. We didn’t come in with a game plan on how to explain transness to people with wildly varying degrees of understanding. The alums in the audience ranged from the Class of 2000 to Class of 1948. The coordinator spoke up again, “I’m assuming you’re all ‘shes,’ but it’s cool that you don’t assume that.” Someone said, “Well, not all of us,” at which point I said my “Hi, I’m Sal! I use he/him and she/her pronouns,” but my entire body was shaking and I was  freaking out. I don’t know what they were thinking about me, but I at least hoped that telling them about my pronouns would stop the onslaught. Again, I was wrong. We didn’t stop getting “ladies” for the rest of the excursion.

It’s hard to understand how especially isolating it is to be excluded from language that is intended to be kind. When alums use “ladies” to invite us to get food or drinks, or to make ourselves at home, they’re doing it to extend hospitality and make us feel welcome. I know in my heart that they care so much, but still I’m wounded because I feel excluded by their attempt at inclusion. The rest of the group is supportive of my stress, but I’m exhausted and mostly unable to do anything about it. I left the event wishing I had been better prepared for these interactions. 

So, how do we help trans students in their interactions with alums? With reunion season coming up, it’s a pertinent question to ask. If I could go back and do it again, I would ask our directors to send an email to the alums beforehand asking to refrain from use of gendered language for the group. Terms like “folks,” “students” or  “everyone” are great alternatives to “ladies” or “girls.” Advanced notice would give them the chance to sit with it for some time before interacting with the group, ask any questions they might have to understand new terminology and prepare those who are planning on attending the event. It’s also helpful for cis students to offer pronouns in introductions without prompting, so that trans people don’t have to be the only ones offering their pronouns. 

With regards to reunions, the College should reorient returning alums to the changes in student language. Although they may fear the donorship repercussions, prioritizing students is essential. The Alumnae Association should communicate about how the College has changed so that trans students can fully use the support of the alum network without fear. 

All of these things would have helped me a lot this past weekend, but they’re not ubiquitous. The most important thing you can do to support trans people is ask them what they need to feel comfortable. For some, that might mean not being outed to people they don’t know or don’t feel safe around. But for others, it might mean having the support of their peers to feel confident in being out around alums who might not have the tools to be supportive just yet. Overall, I have found that alums are incredibly caring and receptive of current students’ lives, but it’s hard to know if this is always the case.

 Meet your trans peers where they are and support them in any way you can. Kindly correcting alums’ use of gendered language can be especially hard for trans people who are frazzled or upset by being misgendered. The College’s official policy to admit transgender students means that the use of “ladies” is never a safe bet for a general group of students, so cis students shouldn’t feel afraid to correct that. The College is behind you, and you’re making the lives of your trans peers a little bit easier and more comfortable.