Thoughts from MY Intersection

Like most high school seniors who graduated in Spring 2016, I applied to colleges in the Fall of 2015 then impatiently and excitedly waited for their admissions decision. My high school best friend Kelcie and I were set by February that we were going to attend the University of Nevada Las Vegas (UNLV) together.  Then one February evening, I received an email from a school called Saint Martin's University. The subject read, "FREE Application! Apply Today!" I did not think more of this email nor even think twice about it. Based on the name, I could tell it was a private Catholic school, which only meant it was too expensive. But I applied anyway because I thought "another school and scholarships for the graduation slideshow." So I filled out the application and went to bed. The next day, I received an email from the Dean of Enrollment, Dr. Pamela Holsinger-Fuchs. She talked about how excited she was that I applied and told me the other documents I needed to submit...

For most of my life, I struggled a lot with having straight male friends. It wasn't that I did not want to be friends with them; they did not want to be friends with me. Though it wasn't really shared, I could tell and have always known that it was because of my sexual orientation. Straight boys (no, they're not men) have isolated me and did not want to be associated with me because they did not want people to think that they, too, were gay. Especially when I was in elementary school, boys never wanted to be in small groups with me or include me in "boy things." Of course, there were many times when boys would tease me for being gay and use my sexual orientation as a joke or an insult towards other boys. "Go to your boyfriend Mc Erl," one would say, or "Mc Erl, ____ likes you!" Because of this, most of my friends growing up were girls. I struggled to befriend guys because they did not understand what it means to be gay. Being ostracized because...

For me, this is probably one of the most challenging things to write about at this time of divide. The conversations regarding this topic have been approached more politically than humane. I invite you, as St. Benedict writes in the first words of his Rule to "Listen with the ear of your heart." I hope that after reading this, your love for me does not change and that you seek to understand where I am coming from, than to try and persuade me, debate with me, or belittle me. I do not speak for other LGBTQ+ members or speak for the other faithful LGBTQ+ members, but I firmly believe that my story is not one hundred percent unique. To a certain extent, it resonates with many members of the LGBTQ+. They were turned or have turned away because of how they identify. In my most recent blog about the women in my life, you learned about my aunt. She taught me how to pray the rosary in Ilokano, Tagalog, and English. I was raised in a Catholic home. We had an altar that held crucifixes,...

It sounds silly to think that a simple word break down could be such a mind-blowing discovery, but it happens; listen. The scene is the first day of Keri Graham's class in the Fall of 2017: History of American Women. We were doing self-introductions: Name, Year, Pronouns, and why you are taking this class. The class was pre-dominantly women, I'd say about 99% of the class. I sat in my seat and thought about why I was taking this class. I needed it for my minor: Gender and Identity Studies (GIS). But why be here, right now? It hit me, I am here because men write history, but this class was different. It was about women; History of American Women. With my English hat on, I honed my focus on the class title's bookends: History and Women. In my previous GIS classes, I heard about gender inequality, gender inequity, and that men write history books and tell the stories. When you break down the word history, you hear something almost eerie to think about: History...history...his-...