A little less than a year ago, my friend and former teammate Kate Morris wrote an editorial piece for The Crimson entitled “A New Conversation” in response to the odd and upsetting instance in which urine spilled on a bunch of LBGTQ books in Lamont Library—an incident which was declared to be an “accident” by Dean Evelynn M. Hammonds. Kate chose not to focus on the incident but rather to look at what she saw as the larger issues at play. Most profound to me was her conclusion that “common human dignity” was more important than social spaces and funding which would allow her to be “separate and unequal.”

I don’t feel it’s my place to comment on the purposes these resources could serve. I’ve been lucky enough not to deal with stigma in my life, so I can’t speak for those who have.

But I have an enormous respect for anyone who is brave enough to write such a personal piece and for anyone who has been brave enough to “come out,” whether to the public or only to their closest friends. And I agree that dignity and respect are the most important pieces in the fight against prejudice.

I always considered my high school to be impressively open-minded, but I think we owe a great deal of that to a young woman named Liz Guenther. I was lucky enough to get to know her in the spring of my freshman year while playing with her on the varsity lacrosse team. A phenomenal athlete, Guenther captained the soccer, hockey, and lacrosse teams and was extremely outspoken about her own experiences with homophobia. That I played lacrosse with her for only three months and consider her to have a great impact on how I think about LGBTQ issues speaks to how influential a person she was, and I have no doubts that she has continued to inspire her friends and colleagues to this day.

The fact remains, however, that not everyone is as brave as Liz or Kate, and it’s pretty unfair to expect them to be.

Instead, we, the straight “allies,” should be the ones taking the step forward to say “Yes, we support and respect you.”

Here at Harvard, some of the best examples of this allied support have come from athletes.

For example, when I was a freshman, a few of my teammates and I attended a discussion called “Queerness in Athletics,” in which four “queer” athletes and one “ally” discussed their experiences. Since we had been at a team function, the discussion was almost over by the time we got there, so I never heard whether or not the ally panelist had any personal connection to the issue. But I do remember his claim that while there weren’t any openly gay athletes on his team, he couldn’t imagine his teammates hating anyone. I don’t think that event ever got much publicity, but I don’t think this pledge of a team’s support should be forgotten.

I was impressed by the panelists, but I also saw how uncomfortable some of the athletes were.

Clearly, as allies, we need to be more vocal in our support of our classmates.

An outstanding instance of this support came this fall when the entire wrestling team decided to come out as allies on National Coming Out Day. While standing outside of the Malkin Athletic Center, the young men wore T-shirts with messages such as “Some dudes marry dudes. Get over it.” That show of solidarity received plenty of well-deserved publicity, and I certainly hope it encouraged other members of the campus to voice their support.

We also shouldn’t forget the actions that occur on a smaller scale, from campus-wide posting of Facebook statuses to the wearing of rainbow-colored pins.

So I guess this column is my 700-word declaration of support. I recognize that I haven’t exactly been an activist. I certainly don’t consider this column to be anything brave or ground-breaking. But I also feel that every word counts, that every ounce of kindness has a positive impact that may not always be seen.

So a year after Kate called for dignity, I am doing my best to answer with a showing of respect. It may not be much, but if it makes even one person feel more comfortable in his or her skin, then I’ve done my job.

—Staff writer Christina C. McClintock can be reached at ccmcclin@fas.harvard.edu.