A Letter to the Principal

The following is a modified version of a letter sent via a liaison by two anonymous students to Principal William Rawson in the fall of 2019. Rawson did not agree to meet with the students directly but held a private meeting with said liaison and encouraged the two students to publish their letter in The Exonian. He also said that the matter would be brought to the Dean of Students for further discussion. 

Since then, the students have not had further correspondence with Rawson or with school administration. For fear of being personally identified, the students did not publish said letter until now. In the context of several posts on @queeratexeter concerning the intra-dorm relationship ban, they felt it fitting to publish their letter in The Exonian at this time.

Dear Principal Rawson,

I have put off writing this letter, addressing a largely overlooked and deeply personal issue, for far too long, for quite a few reasons: fear of administrative repercussions, fear of being “outed” to the school community at-large, fear of innumerable consequences for both my social and academic life. Being a gay couple in general, at Exeter or in the world, is difficult. Every day, with everyone you encounter, safety is constantly on the forefront of one’s mind. Will they hate me for existing? Do they not want me here? This social fear is yet further exacerbated, in Exeter and beyond, by policies that hinder our right to exist and love openly. 

 I am a gay student at Exeter presently in a romantic relationship with a member of my own dorm. I hope the reasons for this letter’s anonymity are now somewhat more obvious. Though not the subject of this letter, the policy I am referring to was enacted as part of the new visitations ruleset: the ban on intra-dorm relationships. Page 57 of the E-Book states that “relationships among dormitory residents and/or day student affiliates may not be intimate, sexual, or exclusive in nature.” It is the only school policy restricting student relationships and is by nature targeted towards same-sex couples. I have read the text of the rule countless times by now to parse its language and figure out exactly what it means for me and my boyfriend, clinging onto some hope of an exception for our situation. But the text is pretty straightforward. It bans intra-dorm romantic relationships in all cases, putting me directly in conflict with the school I call home.

Though I understand the intent of the policy, I cannot begin to stress how demoralizing its impact has been. It feels as though the school has told me who I can and cannot love, as though it has labeled my love illegitimate. In an Academy that would be quick to affirm in words that “love is love,” I feel betrayed by the asterisk. Yes, love is love, it tells us, but not your love. That is the first of many cages, all of which prevent me from embracing who I am and who I love.

I would honestly not be writing this letter, however, if the rule were just demoralizing. The problem is that it has sent me into deeper hiding and deeper paranoia than ever before. This year, I was beginning to take steps to embrace my own sexual identity in an outward way. I felt like I was beginning to step out of the closet. But now that I’m in a relationship, I have to walk back in. To me and to others, it feels like we are being forced back in the closet, forced to hide our identities again, forced to live a lie again, forced to be invisible again. Someone finding out about my sexuality is the first step to their finding out about my boyfriend. We do not feel safe so much as hugging in public, let alone coming out as gay. And if we were both to come out, suspicions would abound in our dorm, among students and faculty alike. And so the closet has become our second cage.

That closet also keeps me from opening up to faculty members. There are Exeter faculty with whom I have shared just about every facet of my life, but I absolutely could never talk about my boyfriend with a teacher because it would expose my “rules violation.” The truth, however, is that relationships are a natural thing that many students will experience or experiment with throughout their time here. In that process, adults are great resources in navigating them, great assets for information and great people to lean on for support. 

Unfortunately, while I cannot attest to their veracity, there have at least been rumors that students caught in an intra-dorm relationship would be separated into different dorms. That would mean losing time with all the friends I have in my own dorm, it would mean a very obvious outing to Exeter at-large, it would mean having to choose between my dorm and my partner and it would mean the involvement of my parents. Imagine not only having to explain your sexuality to your parents, but also having to explain how you got ejected from your dorm because your romance was “illegal.” It is quite literally one of my worst fears, and it is my third cage.

I understand the intent of the school in crafting such a ban. However, I do not believe that an administrative ban would actually stop any intra-dorm relationships. I, for one, accept that I live in a perpetual state of rule-breaking, if only because I genuinely love my partner. I don’t think anyone who has honestly experienced romantic love would let some three-sentence school rule stop them. 

Though it cannot actually prevent relationships, the rule certainly has an effect on the morale and freedom of LGBTQ+ students. The ban leaves us trapped -- unable to come out, embrace who we are, live like any other couple would, or reach out for help when we need it. This rule is not protecting anyone and only hurting the LGBTQ+ community at Exeter that has fought so hard for recognition and acceptance. It amplifies the pain and the fear that queer students live with daily and imposes an effective gag rule that prevents us from having open and honest dialogue about healthy relationships. Why then, does this hurtful and outdated rule, our own “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell,” even exist?

I want to genuinely thank you for reading this letter. At the end of the day, I am comfortable enough to write it because you’ve been a firm ally of the LGBTQ+ community thus far. To that end, I feel it would be unfair for me to just drop you this letter without speaking to you directly. Both me and my boyfriend, who helped in writing this, would be happy to meet with you in person, provided that we could be assured that neither of us would be outed, have our parents contacted, be forced to move, or face administrative repercussions. If you would be willing to accept as much, feel free to reach out and schedule a time to talk by replying to the return address, who will in turn contact us. We would greatly appreciate it.

Proudly Yours.