It was the middle of the afternoon and I was walking across the quad from the Public Policy building to the library to return a book with a friend of mine. She and I were discussing her research project and she turned to go back to the dorms. I walked in front of a group of students. I crossed in front of them when I hear one of them yell: "Faggot." The rest of them started snickering to each other.

I turned around and thought briefly about confronting them; but there were too many. If I said something, I was afraid I'd be risking my own physical safety. I started walking to the library again when I heard another one say, "Fucking faggot; too afraid to answer back." They kept walking towards the Commons, still turning frequently to yell something at me. I tried to ignore them and kept walking towards the library but inside I was angry, I was seething. I am 27; I've been out more than half of my life and have suffered violence from partners and strangers. No one should be called names, especially derogatory names like that.

I am not afraid to speak up; nor have I ever been. I have on more than one occasion, in fact. This situation was too uncomfortable for me; I felt threatened. I speak out against violence in classes, I speak out against violence when I am with friends and I speak out about violence when I present research papers. I advocate for victims of intimate partner violence and have helped remove more than one from a physically dangerous situation. None of those scared me like this did.

Someone asked me why I advocate for LGBTQA rights. I advocate for them because even I am still afraid for my own safety. I advocate for them because without education these kinds of acts will never stop. Previous to today, I would have told anyone that my campus was a safe campus; in the middle of the afternoon in the center of the quad, I stopped believing that. My education and social groups have insulated me from the worst of the discrimination for a long time; today I was alone, and, for the first time, felt threatened.

Would it have been better to speak out? I don't know. I doubt that it would have ended well, at least for me. I can hold my own with one person and have never hesitated to confront singular acts of stupidity but groups of people are altogether another case. I was afraid to say anything to them; I was afraid to look at them and I was afraid to turn my back to them.

What do you do when your campus starts to feel unsafe? What do you do when you're confronted with a situation you cannot handle anymore? What do you do when every ounce of you wants to speak out, to confront, to educate but you're to afraid to say something? It is this oppression that drives me to keep fighting to change behaviors and actions. I want to make sure that people feel safe even if I do not. I want to make sure that this kind of behavior is ended. One voice is not strong enough, two voices are not strong enough when they are alone. Many voices together though, those get heard and those inspire change. Many voices drown out the single voice yelling out: "Faggot." Even in the middle of a summer afternoon.