WASHINGTON - As we celebrate Pride Month 2021 throughout June, AUEagles.com will feature the personal stories of some members of our community who identify as LGBTQ+ and are open to sharing those stories. Our first Q&A is with rising sophomore Sasha Liu of the men's swimming & diving team.

1) You were 13 when you came out to friends and family. Did anyone know before that? When were you yourself sure and able to put a name to it?

I came out "publicly" (as public as a 13 year old could be) in the fall of 8th grade, just before my 14th birthday. I had come out to a close friend the summer before, at a sleepover. For the months between that night and my coming out, I told a few people here and there, when the time felt right. I was certain in my feelings about halfway through 7th grade in who I was attracted to. I realized that I liked boys in 6th grade as there was this one guy that I got butterflies in my stomach whenever he talked to me or we hung out together. However, the beginning of puberty is a difficult time for anybody and I wasn't sure if I just wanted to be his friend, or if I wanted to be his boyfriend.

2) You were worried about reactions, as most are, but it went well for you overall. Based on what you know about how hard it's been for people in the past, do you think there's been a real shift with your generation? Is it really not a big deal for most kids these days, at least in many areas of the country?

I truly believe that there has been a shift in our generation when it comes to LGBTQ+ rights and coming out. I often reference a story that happened shortly after I came out to illustrate the generational gap in LGBTQ+ rights.

It was Valentine's Day of my 8th grade year, about four months after I had come out. I thought this boy in my grade was cute so I decided to buy him a CandyGram that my school was selling. It was 50 cents and I wrote a cute little message (something along the lines of "Hey I think you're cute") and put a lollipop on it and had the people deliver it. I got home that day, proud that I was brave enough to admit my feelings to a boy. Upon telling my mother, she proceeded to yell at me for about 30 minutes, while I sat there, confused.

She feared for my safety, as a 14 year old gay boy. She had grown up hearing about how gay men were beaten and murdered after being picked up out of gay bars. She had grown up with the story of Matthew Shepard, a young gay man murdered simply because of the fact that he was gay. She feared for my life because of my identity and I was too young to understand where she was coming from.

Granted, coming out is still a big deal. The scariest thing about coming out was that it made my identity real. There was no more speculation. It was out in the open and it was a fact. When you're 13 from a town with 1,000 people (Tivoli, N.Y.), that makes it scary. However, I think the rise of social media and the inclusivity that schools, teams, and organizations have created allows teens to be more comfortable with themselves and to INTERNALLY not make it such a big deal.

3) When you came out, your swim teammates had nothing much to say and treated you the same as always. Was there any disappointment around that? Is no reaction the same as acceptance do you think? Were you hoping to talk more about it and/or were you eventually able to do that?

This is an interesting question to ask and I'm glad that you asked it. Had you asked me this question four years ago, I think my answer would've been much different. I almost felt as though my teammates were using their lack of reaction to hide their genuine reaction. If anything, it felt anti-climactic. I had set up this whole idea in my mind about what would happen or how people would react and none of it happened. There were no ugly faces, no remarks, nothing that stood out of the ordinary. Just a simple acknowledgement.

Looking back now, I'm glad that there wasn't a big reaction to my coming out. I feel that if there's a big reaction followed by poo-pooing and an influx of exaggerated love and support, it undermines the effect that the audience is trying to instill. If your goal is to make me feel like I am no different than my teammates, having a huge positive reaction really doesn't make me feel like I'm an equal.

That being said, this sort of stuff varies from person to person so take my opinion with a grain of salt since I do not speak for the entire community. I personally was not hoping or wanting to talk about it more as it was a fairly private subject at the time. As the years progressed, I would become more open with love interests, personal problems, etc.

4) What advice do you have for other young people in general who want to come out to friends and family, and especially for student-athletes?

I would always advise people to take their own safety into account. Your safety overrides any sort of obligation to come out. That being said, find a group of people that you feel comfortable with. Finding people with whom you feel comfortable with even when you're still in the closet is incredibly important as it will allow you the environment to first accept yourself, before telling other people. Coming out is almost always a shot in the dark no matter who you come out to and that initial fear will almost never subside. Even now, as a 19 year old "veteran" queer, it still causes anxiety to come out to people that I do not know, or just met. So, I cannot say it'll be easier as time goes on but as you gain more experience with coming out, you will learn what situations will be safe to come out.

I often think of coming out as ripping a band-aid off of you. If you take it one person at a time, it's like ripping a bunch of teeny tiny band-aids off. If you put it on social media in one go, it's like ripping one huge band-aid off yourself. Different people will prefer to do things in different ways. Personally, I found posting my coming out on social media was much more scary than going person by person. However, it might be easier for you to just post it once and call it a day. Do whatever makes you feel the most comfortable and the most safe. 

For those on the receiving end of a coming out: this is an honor. This person coming out has deemed you to be a safe space. They feel safe enough to show their true self to you and to let you see them at their most vulnerable. Do not screw it up. Respect them for who they are. I recognize that the environment of sports is a little bit more harmful to queer people, but even inside these programs there are allies. There are people that will stand up for you and respect you.

5) What has been your experience at AU? Do you see improvements that could be made to increase acceptance of the LGBTQ+ community at American?

My personal experience at AU has been very good so far. One thing I would like to see is the promotion and inclusion of LGBTQ faculty, alumni, etc. As a Chinese person, I can walk around campus, look on websites, see

posters, and see other Asian people. As a queer person, I can't simply look at a person and know that they're queer. I'd like to see recognition of LGBTQ professors, staff, administrators, alumni, athletes, etc.

AU has provided me with some of my closest friends and allies. One in particular, my teammate Nick Buckley, comes to mind. Buck, in appearance, reminds me of people from my hometown, which isn't necessarily a good thing. However, outside of looks, Buck differs greatly from those back home. He has been one of the most supportive people of my identity and was the first person from the team to wish me a happy pride month. When I visited him in his hometown, he made sure that I was comfortable when visiting his friends and family. In fact, the entire swim team, including Garland Bartlett, has been whole-heartedly supportive of me and my identity and I'm glad that I represent such a respectful and inclusive team in the water. 
 
For the queer folk that may read this. Remember these lines spoken by Dominique Jackson.
 
You will not tell me that you accept me.
You will not tell me that you tolerate me.
That is not your power. I take that from you.
You will respect me for who I am.