ABSTRACT
When I first went to teach at Oberlin College, a big debate about my sexual preferences took place on the wall of a women’s rest room. In constructive, politically correct fashion, those walls were covered in paper. This also allowed me to take the document home and place it among my own papers. This public discussion, which really centered around the question of whether or not I was a lesbian, came to my attention only when it led to actual face-to-face conflicts between white and black female students on campus. A black female student felt it was invasive. Annoyed that white female students were “daring” to have this discussion about a black woman professor, she had written: “Bitch, what’s it to you anyway. She don’t want you.” The comment led white females to confront this student about her sexism; she then challenged them about their racism. The black student felt that, had I been a white female professor, this level of disrespect would not have been shown 140me. In the many discussions that ensued, both organized and on the grapevine, we talked about why it was so important for students to know my, or any, professor’s sexual preference; about the danger of attempting to “out” any untenured professor in a homophobic institution; about whether feminist students think they can do no wrong; and most importantly, we talked about the ways black and white females often think differently about matters of sexuality.
