Today, as you head to the Greenhouse for your customary Chick-Fil-A, you may notice something a little out of the ordinary. It may come to your attention that there are a dozen same-sex couples outside, kissing each other in the open air. Yes, today around lunchtime the Bisexual, Gay, Lesbian, Transgender, and Supporters Alliance (BGLTSA) will be staging a kiss-in action in front of the Science Center. We’ve thought long and hard about this event, we’ve discussed the plans with our membership, and now we want to clearly communicate to the larger Harvard community the reasons behind this kiss-in. So pop an Altoid, and read on.

You see, “tolerance” is a dicey word. It gets repeated like a mantra in these parts. Its syllables merge into the murky, hypnotic murmur of PC-speak that might be called the soundtrack to Harvard life. Tolerance is a generous word, not particularly demanding on those who use it, because it leaves lots of room for uninterrogated prejudice under a brittle veneer of civility. Tolerance accommodates statements like, “I have no problem with gay people, I just don’t see why they have to be so in-your-face about it.” Or how about, “Homosexuality doesn’t bother me, I just don’t really want to see it on my way to class.” Tolerance never challenges the visceral discomfort and silent disgust which undergird these statements. Nor does it engage with the privilege accorded to heterosexual public displays of affection—whether in the mass media queer students have been ingesting since birth or on the footpaths through Harvard Yard which we walk every day. So, taking our cue from student groups at Princeton, Wesleyan and the University of Michigan, the BGLTSA will stage a kiss-in today to claim public space for queer students and queer bodies. We hereby register our disappointment with the benevolent hypocrisy of “tolerance,” and we challenge the Harvard community to evolve beyond it.

“But,” some may sputter, “we don’t want to see straight couples making out in front of the Science Center either.” This assertion is a red herring, and misses the point of today’s action. The kiss-in theatrically draws attention to smaller, daily gestures of heterosexual public intimacy which have become so routine as to be invisible. On the National Day of Silence earlier this month, participants disrupted our everyday routine by refusing to speak, and provoking us to wonder what other silences we live among, unknowingly. The kiss-in has a parallel philosophy. It steps outside the boundaries of everyday public behavior to give a new perspective on the commonplace—(straight) hands held en route to class and (straight) kisses good-night in the corridor.

For that matter, Harvard isn’t exactly bereft of public and semi-public contexts where kissing is permitted. Your House’s upcoming formal, your friendly neighborhood final clubs, some steamy party in Leverett Towers—you probably don’t think twice about seeing a straight couple making out in those contexts, but would you be so blithe about a queer pairing? Would you wrinkle your nose at two boys? Would you hoot and holler at two girls? Would you squint and stare at a couple whose genders you couldn’t figure out? These are the double standards which today’s kiss-in hopes to highlight. Certainly, we understand that different codes of conduct apply to behavior at a room party and behavior in front of the Science Center. But two dozen strong, with HUPD standing by, we have the collective confidence to question a boundary that we might be individually cowed into respecting.

So on your way into the Greenhouse today, take one of our flyers, or better yet, stop and talk to the demonstrator who’s handing them out. Gawk at the PDA if you’re so inclined. Look deeply engrossed in our posters while you watch us out of the corner of your eye and feel yourself getting secretly turned on. If you feel queasy, go ahead and feel queasy. All we ask is that you’re honest with yourself about your reaction, and then critically conscious about why you react the way you do. We’ll give you a hint: feeling uncomfortable is precisely the point. Please realize that we will feel uncomfortable too. We’ve talked this over with our parents and blockmates and lovers, mulled over how we’ll respond if hecklers jeer or an ancient uncle sees our picture in tomorrow’s Crimson. We’ve decided that personal discomfort is a small price to pay if we can confront this university with an opportunity to think hard about heterosexual privilege. We’ve decided to give you something to chew on after you’ve polished off that Chick-Fil-A. So eat up.

Marcel A.Q. LaFlamme ’04 is a folklore and mythology concentrator in Mather House. He is the public relations chair of the BGLTSA.