Katherine is a bright young woman with impressive enough a background to be admitted to West Point. Despite the demanding process for admission to the Academy and having survived the challenging adjustment to the educational institution, she has decided to leave West Point. West Point's honor code states that "a cadet will not lie, cheat, steal or tolerate those that do." In a way, leaving West Point is Katherine's way of adhering to the honor code because every day she lives there, she has to lie in order to hide her identity as a lesbian.
Hearing people's experiences helps put policy questions into perspective. The NYT ran an article yesterday that highlighted the gay culture at West Point Academy. One cadet noted he spends time alone in a car every night to make personal phone calls for fear his sexual identity will be discovered and he will be discharged. Given the outcomes over the past year for civil rights in the LGBT community, it's clear we don't all agree on policies that impact gay and lesbian people. But surely we can all understand how lonely it must feel to have to literally hide in order to be yourself. Reading about the cadet's solo car time conjured memories for me of being the new kid at a school (my dad was in the Air Force so we moved a lot) and spending lunch alone in the bathroom because I did not know anyone. I'm certain that many people can understand and relate to the cadet's experience, even if the root of our experiences aren't the same as his.
Sometimes I cannot relate to another person's experience because I have privilege and literally have never been in their shoes. On Monday, Service Members Legal Defense Network began releasing letters from family members of servicemembers impacted by Don't Ask, Don't Tell. Read one woman's story:
"There were so many things that we had to be careful about. For example, Joan had asked that I not call her at work unless it was truly an emergency. When we were out in public if Joan saw someone from work, I learned to "disappear," until Joan's co-worker moved on. We didn't dare go to nice restaurants on Valentine's Day or even Saturday nights. We could not show any familiarity while out in public. I went to parties at colleagues' homes alone lest a guest I didn't know learn that Joan was in the Navy."
As a straight woman, I've never thought twice about the restaurants I attend with my partner, or whether or not it's safe to call his office. Hearing this woman's experience filled me with utter disbelief and wonder at having to experience a relationship in this way. I'm glad to have read the story because it is in sharing stories that I can better understand the experiences of a particular oppressed group.
All of this is to say that the policy questions we consider almost always impact a person and more than likely a person we know well and love. When we fail to agree on policy, returning to the experiences of those impacted, oppressed or empowered by the policy with an empathetic heart and mind may bring us to a place of justice and fairness. No one should have to hide who they are, and love should be freely exercised. In other words, Don't Ask, Don't Tell should be eliminated.