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ABSTRACT
Studies demonstrate that LGBTQ+ college students experience explicit and covert discrimination with research documenting various microaggressions reported by university students whose gender and/or sex identities are minoritized. Building off existing models of LGBTQ microaggressions, the current study adds to this literature by utilizing focus groups to explore campus safety perceptions among a sample of U.S. undergraduate students who identify as LGBTQ+. Findings highlight the diverse microaggressions experienced by students at the interpersonal and environmental level. Moreover, the results displayed the mechanisms students employed to avoid or disengage from situations where microaggressions may be encountered, as well as underscored ways in which students may combat or engage with persons or climates perceived to be hostile to members of the LGBTQ+ community. Implications for research, policy, and practice are presented. Keywords: Microaggressions, college students, fear of victimization, model of LGBTQ microaggressions
While colleges and universities are often viewed as progressive institutions accepting a broad range of ideas and groups, segments of the population, notably students who identify as LGBTQ+1 continue to report experiences with discrimination and exclusion (Browne et al., 2020; D’Augelli, 1989; Ellis, 2009). A growing body of empirical work has explored this population’s general experiences on campus, yet much is still unknown about how this group navigates the university environment and how their minoritized identity affects their collegiate experience. While burgeoning literature demonstrates that students who identify as LGBTQ+ report bias within the campus community, as well as their interactions with peers (see Miller & Smith, 2021; Nadal et al., 2016; Platt & Lenzen, 2013), less is known about how criminal victimization and fear of crime/victimization – especially as it relates to students’ sexual and gender identity- shapes students’ behavior on campus and ultimately, their social, emotional, and educational lives while actively enrolled in college courses.
The campus climate and variations in higher education inclusivity efforts for students who identify as LGBTQ+ is especially concerning when examining the research on victimization among the LGBTQ+ population more generally and college students more specifically. Recent research suggests that individuals who identify as LGBTQ+, whether in the general population or within the university environment, are at a high risk of victimization with much of this research focusing on intimate partner violence and sexual victimization (Coulter et al., 2017; Griner et al., 2020; Johnson et al., 2016; Lombardi et al., 2001; Walters et al., 2013). Given high rates of victimization coupled with documented experiences with bias, specifically microaggressions, an investigation into how general perceptions of safety and comfort on campus influence LGBTQ+ students’ lived experiences is warranted. Prior research has examined microaggressions against LGBTQ+ students across college campuses in the U.S., and indeed several models and taxonomies of understanding have been proposed to frame these experiences (e.g., Nadal, 2019; Nadal et al., 2011; Nadal et al., 2010; Platt & Lenzen, 2013; Vaccaro & Koob, 2019). In particular, the works of Vaccaro and Koob (2019) who propose a critical multidimensional model of LGBTQ microaggressions which includes methods of interpretation, interpersonal and environmental contexts, and the responses of the victims along with Sue and Capodilupo (2008) and Sue (2010) who delineate interpersonal and environmental microaggression guided our current exploration. The current study adds to the existing literature by utilizing focus groups to explore perceptions of general safety on campus among students who self-identify as LGBTQ+ and explore the utility of previously established models in categorizing and conceptualizing their experiences with microaggressions.
Research exploring LGBTQ alumni’s perceptions of campus climate indicates a gradual shift in the culture and environment on U.S. campuses with LGBTQ undergraduates reporting more positive experiences as time progresses (Garvey et al., 2017). There is, however, evidence that campuses vary regarding how welcoming, supportive, and inclusive they are when it comes to students who identify as LGBTQ+ (Browne et al., 2020; Garvey et al., 2017; Woodford et al., 2018). One institution-specific characteristic that has been tied to LGBTQ+ students’ campus experience is the geographic location of the college/university (Fine, 2012; Renn & Arnold, 2003). For instance, institutions located in rural environments and those outside of the New England region have been linked to more negative experiences among the LGBTQ+ student population (Garvey et al., 2017). Campus climates that are less accepting of gender/sex minorities have the potential to negatively impact the retention of LGBTQ+ students and these students’ educational progress and overall well-being (Garvey et al., 2020; Woodford et al., 2018; Woodford & Kulick, 2015). Importantly, research identifies variations in the extent to which universities integrate student programming designed specifically for LGBTQ+ students (see Fine, 2012; Woodford et al., 2018). Lack of LGBTQ+ specific programming can impact whether students feel recognized by their educational institution, as well as affect their feelings of belonging to the broader campus community.
Heterosexism, cisheteronormativity, and homonegativity are often cited as key features of adverse campus climates for students whose sexual and/or gender identities are minoritized (Woodford & Kulick, 2015; Woodford et al., 2017; Woodford et al., 2018). Essentially, these “isms” serve to privilege hegemonic social identities while diminishing and/or ignoring the existence of diverse forms of gender and sexual expression (Vaccaro & Koob, 2019). The social stigma attached to LGBTQ+ identities can work to isolate students who identify as LGBTQ+, as well as affect their feelings of safety and comfort on campus. While research demonstrates that students who identify as LGBTQ+ are at an elevated risk of criminal victimization (Coulter et al., 2017; Griner et al., 2020; Johnson et al., 2016; Lombardi et al., 2001; Walters et al., 2013), scholars also underscore the prevalence of covert forms of discrimination, namely microaggressions, that LGBTQ students encounter during their collegiate experience (Hong et al., 2016; Miller & Smith, 2021; Nadal et al., 2011a; Nadal et al., 2011b; Nadal et al., 2016; Platt & Lenzen, 2013; Woodford et al., 2017).
Microaggressions refer to more subtle forms of verbal communication or behavior that, often unconsciously, disparage or convey hostility towards a marginalized social group (Sue & Capodilupo, 2008; Sue, 2010). The “micro” element of the concept is not intended to minimize the significance or effects of these encounters; however, it is employed to emphasize the subtly and implicit bias underlying these remarks or actions (Nadal et al., 2010; Sue, 2010). Individuals who engage in microaggressions may not do so with ill-intent rather their actions may be the product of misinformation or a general lack of awareness (Sue & Capodilupo, 2008; Sue, 2010).Scholars argue that marginalized groups are more likely to encounter microaggressions within modern society as compared to openly hostile forms of discrimination, as explicit bias is often discouraged while implicit bias is more socially acceptable (Sue & Capodilupo, 2008; Sue, 2010). This is not to say that social approval of bias does not vary across particular social groups and towards different identities. For instance, it may be more socially acceptable to be openly transphobic than it is to be observably racist. Additionally, even though these microaggression need not include actual violence or violent victimization, they may still lead the target of these actions to feel vulnerable to further attack which may result in victimization.
Research has delineated both interpersonal and environmental microaggressions. Interpersonal microaggressions can be separated into three types, (1) microinvalidations, (2) microinsults, and (3) microassaults (Sue, 2010). Microinvalidations refer to “verbal comments or behaviors that exclude, negate, or dismiss the psychological thoughts, feelings, or experiential reality of the target group” (Sue & Capodilupo, 2008, pg. 112). A person who engages in microinvalidation is unaware that they have been dismissive or invalidated another’s experiences/feelings. A professor may engage in a microinvalidation by responding to a student’s concerns about their sexuality causing their assigned group to exclude them from activities with “you are too sensitive, they may not even realize you are gay.” Similarly, microinsults involve inconsiderate behaviors or remarks that insult or shame an individual’s sexuality or gender identity (Sue & Capodilupo, 2008). Like microinvalidations, microinsults are typically unintentional and lack malicious intent, but are disparaging and can stereotype persons who identify as LGBTQ+. An example of a microinsult is the casual use of the phrase “that’s so gay” to cast a behavior in a negative light (Nadal et al., 2010). In contrast to microinvalidations and microinsults, microassaults are intentional verbal/nonverbal forms of communication or behavior that serve to discriminate against a marginalized group (Nadal et al., 2010; Sue & Capodilupo, 2008). Examples would include calling a member of the LGTBQ+ community a derogatory name and actively avoiding or excluding a person because they identify as LGTBQ+ (Nadal et al., 2010; Vaccaro & Koob, 2019). Again, while these actions may not include any physical violence, the target of these microaggressions may feel that violence is likely or that they may be in physical danger due to such actions.
In comparison, environmental microaggressions draw attention to how implicit biases can be transmitted via the climate of a physical location. This can involve individual and/or institutional cues that a particular space is not welcoming to a marginalized group. Environmental microaggressions can surface within larger social institutions, for instance, the educational system, or can emerge on a smaller scale within a microclimate like a specific university or classroom (Vaccaro & Koob, 2019). Given the plethora of microaggressions documented in the literature and their manifestations at multiple levels ranging from the macro to micro, several taxonomies and theoretical models have emerged in the extant literature (Nadal, 2019; Nadal et al., 2011; Nadal et al., 2010; Platt & Lenzen, 2013). Recently, Vaccaro and Koob (2019) proposed a multidimensional model of LGBTQ microaggressions. An important aspect of their model deals with the ways persons who identify as LGBTQ+ respond to microaggressions: by either engaging or disengaging. In the current study, we explore the utility of this framework in categorizing LGBTQ+ college students’ responses to microaggressions.
Studies have documented college students’ experiences with LGBTQ microaggressions. Collectively, this body of work shows that LGBTQ+ college students experience all forms of interpersonal microaggressions, as well as encounter environmental microaggressions within the campus community (Hong, Woodford et al., 2016; Miller & Smith, 2021; Nadal et al., 2011a; Nadal et al., 2011b; Nadal et al., 2016; Platt & Lenzen, 2013; Woodford et al., 2017). Moreover, scholars have highlighted how students have coped or responded to being the target of microaggressions (Nadal et al., 2011b). Miller and Smith’s (2021) study of college students who identified as LGBTQ+ with a disability found that students engaged in “identity management” to avoid microaggressions (pg. 502). Although their participants discussed passing as heterosexual and/or nondisabled as a means of avoiding being othered by peers and faculty, they also indicated this practice was demanding as it involved dedication, preparation, and energy (Miller & Smith, 2021). In a similar vein, research indicates that LGBTQ microaggressions adversely impact the targets’ mental/emotional health including college students (Nadal et al., 2016). Woodford and Kulick (2014) documented evidence that heterosexism negatively impacts academic and social integration among LGBT students.
The prevalence of LGBTQ+ microaggressions in the broader social environment, as well as more localized climates like college campuses, may not only impact feelings of belonging on campus but may also affect whether students feel safe from violence on campus. More specifically, the presence of microaggressions on campus may serve as a constant reminder to LGBTQ+ students that violence motivated by their minoritized identity is a looming possibility. For example, Fileborn (2016) notes that LGBTQ+ individuals often felt unsafe due to heterosexist violence and abuse which could be signaled by the presence of large proportions of heterosexual males who either they or others have experienced verbal, physical, or sexual abuse from before. Thus, their mere presence in locations later, whether they are actively aggressive or not, may increase feelings of being unsafe or at risk for victimization within a given space. Relatedly, existing research suggests that individuals who identify with a minoritized sexual and/or gender group report higher levels of fear of crime compared to their counterparts (see Grinshteyn et al., 2020).
The vulnerability perspective can explain how LGBTQ+ individuals’ minority sexual status influences fear of victimization. According to this perspective, groups who are more socially vulnerable due to their lack of privilege and status in society are more fearful of crime. Sexual minorities have traditionally been stigmatized and marginalized by society, and their experiences with informal and formal support systems (i.e., justice system) may exacerbate fear of crime (Doude & Cook, 2021). Research documents personal and vicarious negative experiences with the justice system among the LGBTQ+ population (Asquith et al., 2017; Hampton, 2019; Kunzel, 2008; Shortnacy, 2001; Smith, 2002) which may function to elevate anxiety surrounding victimization given that LGBTQ+ victims may anticipate discrimination and negative treatment when reporting crime.
Moreover, fear of victimization and feelings of safety may influence avoidance and protective behaviors among LGBTQ+ individuals which can have a significant impact on quality of life. Scholars argue that efforts to reduce victimization can make individuals more fearful and can negatively impact well-being by reducing individual involvement in activities that promote social integration and emotional health (Daigle & Muftic, 2020). Little research, however, has explored fear of victimization, including avoidance and protective behaviors among LGBTQ+ college students. The current study adds to the literature by exploring whether students who identify as LGBTQ+ feel safe on campus. We explored the determination of safe and unsafe spaces, avoidance behaviors, and other action steps taken by these students to safely navigate campuses while simultaneously comparing the experiences of our participants with previously established models of explanation (i.e., Sue & Capodilupo, 2008; Sue, 2010, Vaccaro & Koob, 2019).
Participants for the current research were recruited from a mid-sized regional, public university in the southeastern United States with an enrollment of approximately 10,000 undergraduate students. Several means of recruitment were utilized. First, a flyer with a QR code was placed in campus residential, classroom, and recreational buildings. Flyers included a brief purpose, eligibility requirements, incentives, IRB information2, and contact details for the primary researchers. Additionally, digital forms of these flyers were displayed on television screens in the two primary student centers on campus. Students who scanned the QR code were directed to a Google Form that provided a more detailed summary of the study, including the purpose, the anticipated duration of the focus group sessions, and the incentives which included snacks and a $15 gift card. In the form, potential participants acknowledged they read the purpose of the study and consented to be contacted by the research team to schedule a focus group session time.
In order to collect our data, focus groups were utilized because it has been noted in previous research that focus groups are useful when dealing with vulnerable populations or ones where the researchers are deemed outsiders because it allows the respondents to mainly talk and interact with one another rather than the researcher/research team and for studies where the researchers’ primary focus is one of understanding their participants own experiences understandings, and viewpoints (Wilkinson, 1998). It specifically allows for respondents to interact with one another, hear the thoughts of others, and could potentially prompt them to add their own thoughts (Wilkinson, 1998), allowing for a more in-depth conversation than what might occur in a one-on-one interview. A semi-structured interview schedule was used to facilitate sessions, which allowed researchers to cover the same general topics while also providing the flexibility to follow new leads as warranted (Billups, 2021). As such, each group was asked the same set of questions; however, there was variation in when and how they were asked. Follow-up questions/prompts were used as needed, along with requests for clarification to ensure understanding. Questions assessed students’ feelings of safety on campus, comparisons to other public spaces, and if participants felt their peers had similar attitudes regarding safety. Participants were also asked if there were places on campus that they viewed as safe/unsafe, along with the qualities of a safe space. Finally, participants were asked about their personal opinions regarding their likelihood of experiencing victimization on campus, along with techniques employed to increase personal safety and suggestions for making campus safer. Participants were not asked how or why they identified as a part of the LGBTQ+ community, but many self-identified with a specific minoritized gender and/or sexual identity during sessions.
Four focus group sessions were conducted in the Fall of 2022, with a total of 193 participants across groups. They were hosted at a diversity center on campus and lasted approximately 1 to 1.5 hours each. The diversity center was selected because it serves LGBTQ+ students as part of its programming goals, serves as the meeting location for a LGBTQ+ campus organization, and is in the central part of campus. This location was likely familiar to most participants and as such, was intended to present as a safe place to have open conversations. Moreover, the center is in an enclosed space that is easily separated from public spaces within the building, which facilitated privacy for the participants and the conversations that unfolded.
The research team included four researchers: two main faculty researchers and two graduate assistants. The two faculty researchers who conducted all interview sessions including moderating the sessions, asking questions, and following up with prompts, are heterosexual cis women whose expertise lie in victimization and issues surrounding the criminal justice system’s treatment of persons who are minoritized due to their gender and/or sexuality. They also regularly teach courses discussing these topics within the classroom setting and with college-aged people. The graduate students tasked with notetaking were two students who volunteered to be a part of the study based on their research interests in the LGTBQ+ population. All sessions were audio recorded and later transcribed utilizing transcription software which was checked for accuracy by the researchers. At the beginning of each session, before the audio recording started, the main researchers described the purpose of the study and reviewed the informed consent process and forms. When sessions concluded, there was a short debrief among the research team (between 15-20 minutes) where emerging themes, patterns, and general content of sessions were discussed.
Once transcripts were reviewed for accuracy, the two main researchers began a thematic analysis of each transcript which included repeated reading of transcripts, chunking the data into initial codes (i.e., encoding), and then a re-analysis into more highly developed themes (Acocella & Cataldi, 2021; Morgan, 2019). Specifically, each focus group transcript was read several times by each main researcher before developing initial codes. These initials codes were typically one to two words highlighting major themes starting with chunking out gender and sexuality, then diving deeper into issues such as fear, cis-white-males, and community building. Once codes were identified by researchers independently, the two met and discussed themes that emerged and compared them for reliability. Any discrepancies were discussed and considered in light of existing literature until researchers reached a consensus. Once themes were set, a grid was developed, and researchers identified excerpts from transcripts that most accurately represented each theme. To ensure validity in the themes and passages identified by the main researchers, we reflected upon our own identities as heterosexual, cis women and how that might impact our interpretation of the data and might lead to misinterpretation. We then asked the director of the diversity center to review the findings to make sure they reflected what the director has observed in their work with this population. This diversity center specifically aims to provide services to women, as well as individuals who identify with diverse gender and sex identities.
The original purpose of this study was to explore general feelings of safety among individuals identifying as LGBTQ+ on a university campus and explore how these feelings of safety may affect their lives. We were particularly interested in perceptions of the likelihood of criminal victimization and actions students take to mitigate this risk. However, we quickly realized that while participants had a general fear of “street crime,” they were more concerned with microaggressions and managing their behavior to avoid microaggressions. Due to the fluid nature of qualitative research, we went where the data led. Thus, while each focus group session still included the original questions regarding victimization, we found that students continually turned to incidents of name-calling, being “outed,” or worrying about being “othered” while in public. In turn, after reading and analyzing the transcripts, we realized that our major findings corresponded to the microaggression framework first identified by Sue (2010) and Nadal et al. (2010), and later expanded by Vaccaro and Koob (2019). Collectively, their work classified microaggressions as microinvalidations, microinsults, and microassaults, which can occur both interpersonally and environmentally. These frameworks also outlined targets’ reactions to microaggressions by differentiating between acts of disengagement and engagement. More specifically, we noticed that our findings highly aligned with Vaccaro and Koob’s (2019) expanded model. We thus began analyzing our data to explore the utility of their model in categorizing our findings and whether we could build or expand upon their framework. This led to us noting a third reaction from the participants in our study: community-building to enhance public safety.
Participants indicated they generally felt safe on campus. Nevertheless, they often took measures to mitigate their risk of street crime victimization. When participants expressed safety concerns, it was typically centered on temporal or spatial aspects of campus. Being isolated at night seemed to present feelings of apprehension, often related to the fear of predatory crimes, but also hate crimes to an extent. Some participants noted that they carried items for self-protection like pepper spray or pocketknives. Some indicated that they avoided certain areas of campus after nightfall due to inadequate lighting. Others indicated that they made sure to walk with others at night, even when they were unconcerned walking alone on campus during the day. When asked about personal safety and proactive safety measures, one participant noted:
Like if it's night, and I’m walking back from my car, like I’ll do that. But if it's broad daylight on campus, like I never really, I mean, I like have mace on my keys I have with me at all times, but I never feel the need to like have it accessible during the day if I'm just walking around, I just try to like, stay alert of my surroundings and hope for the best I guess.
This quote highlights the temporal and spatial aspects considered in students’ feelings of safety. Participants often framed their comfort and safety by comparing their current feelings of safety to how they felt in their hometowns. Frequently, when students were from a smaller town than the one the university is in, they indicated feeling less safe from street crimes in general, but often felt safer on campus. This is reflected in the following quote:
I think I feel safer on campus than like out in (university town). Okay. Yeah. But like less safe on campus than like my small hometown.
Additionally, it appears the general measures taken to mitigate predatory victimization risk among our sample are akin to university students in general (see Archer, 2019; Maier & DePrince, 2020). It seems regardless of gender or sexual identity, individuals take steps to actively mitigate their risk of predatory victimization. However, even when answering questions specifically regarding victimization, many participants’ concerns centered around microaggressions rather than street or predatory crimes victimization. When asked in a general manner if they felt safe on campus, one participant replied:
So, I feel like it depends like what you mean by safety, of course, there's always some way. We are like a college in the South. And if you present yourself as more or queer outside, you're more likely, I'd say, to be like the target of some kind of microaggression. But I don't believe like you like in risk of falling into like a major hate crime, but like there are plenty of instances of microaggressions across campus and stuff.
Many respondents were concerned with the possibility of enduring microaggressions. They particularly noted that spaces or organizations dominated by cisgender and/or heteronormative values were areas of concern. More specifically, all groups noted that religious groups and Greek organizations were unsafe spaces. Several participants acknowledged that while some of their feelings about religious and Greek organizations4 were tied to personal experiences, their fear partially stemmed from stereotypes/perceptions of these institutions as unsafe spaces. Much of this apprehension was linked to the long history of victimization among people identifying as LGBTQ+ at the hands of these organizations or persons affiliated with them. This is typified by one of our participants discussing religious groups on campus:
Oh, these don’t make me extremely uncomfortable. But sometimes like there's a lot of clubs, like religious clubs on campus. And a couple of times those have made me really uncomfortable because I grew up, I went to a very, very Christian school and I have kind of like a lot of trauma with that…….. So I'm not sure like if I'm walking by and they're looking at me like, oh, that person needs to be saved or something along those lines. That's what I'm really worried about - is them looking at me and thinking, “Oh, I need to go save them,” and then walking up to me and trying to, you know, rant to me about something that I've spent 13 years of my life already hearing about and kinda have trauma with. Like, I know that's not everyone's going to have trauma with religious stuff, but that could be the case, especially with the person or with queer people.
Participants in several groups also indicated that classes from departments with historically male-dominated majors such as business and criminal justice could be unsafe. This coincides with the previous research of Fileborn (2016) who noted that LGBTQ+ individuals in their study felt less safe when they were around large groups of heterosexual men. They tied their perceptions back to feelings that they were unwelcome or would not find a sense of belonging in the classes because these academic disciplines are perceived to be dominated by cisgender people, especially cis males. They further noted that their views of these majors might be stereotypical.
I think also this is just, this is purely me being stereotypical. But I don't meet many queer people that are business majors. I think that's a big part of it is just and I, we do kinda fit stereotypes sometimes it's like a lot of queer people I know are in the arts.
All groups detailed at least one of the three forms of microaggression as defined by Sue (2010) and Nadal et al. (2010) at both interpersonal and environmental levels.
Microinvalidations were noted across all focus groups. They were particularly prominent when describing treatment by religious people/groups. Several participants noted discomfort around religious entities, particularly Christian ones, who were not deemed as welcoming or accepting of LGBTQ+ people. These experiences included encounters with roommates, family members, and religious organizations on campus, so they spanned individual and environmental levels. Many times, the stories relayed involved both interpersonal level and environmental level invalidations combined. For instance, one participant had a bad experience with roommates that ended with a disappointing resolution from campus housing:
The girl in the room next to me. We related so much. But then the two girls that were literally just across our apartment, or in the same apartment they they were very conservative. They identified as Christian, but like they just, they definitely didn't take into consideration mine and the other girls’, you know, wants and needs. And it was kind of disheartening because I don't think that I want to try rooming on campus again after that experience. Because that was also what was suggested to me that I should move out. And almost like, I have all my stuff set up. Like why would I want to do that?
Participants also experienced microinvalidations at the hands of family members that impacted their view of religious organizations on campus, and perhaps triggered them or led them to believe they would experience similar situations from people while at the university. For instance, experiences with family members who were Christian and who asked them to refer to their partner as their roommate were noted:
There's a lot of history in how these religious organizations, and being a part of the LGBT, being queer as hell, don't mix very well. And it's just even like I've met good Christians who actually care and are nice and like aren't mean, or cruel in any way. But it's like how many is it? How many don't want their children to speak to me because, you know what I mean? It's like, it's hard not to think of those instances. Like I've had family members that are rarely religious. Like set the scene. My younger cousins, like eighth birthday, they told me, go ahead and bring your girlfriend and then we'd get there and they're like: That's your roommate.
Another participant discussed experiences with microinvalidations as a bisexual woman. These experiences involved cis men not respecting her sexuality and ignoring her stated preferences.
It happens way less now, but people would just like assume that I was bisexual and that I was into like cis men and when I would be like, like turn them down they like wouldn't believe me. Or they'd be like, Well, there's no way that you like couldn't be into me. It's like no, there's a way, like I'm not, you know, and… because I don't really have a specific label for myself.
Participants noted experiencing microinsults in various campus settings. These included “bad vibes” from people, being told that a person “doesn’t agree” with their sexuality, and remarks conveying cisheteronormativity and/or heteronormative values within classrooms. Our findings also indicated that these experiences operated at interpersonal and environmental levels, sometimes in tandem. In one focus group, two participants engaged in the following exchange detailing the awkwardness of being asked about and potentially judged for their sexuality:
Participant 1: I felt that but like when, when, like, I guess an example in a university setting would be like if a classmate asks you which, it's kind of like rude to ask somebody, like, Hey, what's your sexuality? But I know that some people do it not really knowing. But when somebody asks you, you tell them like, Hey, I’m bisexual like, and they’re like well, That's great, but I don't agree with that. I think it definitely makes..
Participant 2: or they tell you to go to church
Participant 1: Yeah. Well, there's a way there was a way for you to get past this. And I'm like, no, there's actually not. That it kinda makes me view. Like if I have to see that person repeatedly, like it makes me view being in that classroom a little bit different. Especially if I have to see that person every day.
This passage highlights the interconnected nature of interpersonal exchanges and how they can impact a student’s views of the broader climate, and the classroom microenvironment. The participant noted the knowledge that one student is unaccepting has the consequence of making the classroom environment feel less welcoming. Another participant acknowledged the professor’s role and how that can impact the microclimate of the classroom:
Like it's a case of like saying if you're in a class and a teacher just says like, like the worst is when you get called on as an example. And it's like, and it's talking about like, oh, when you get a husband in the future… That's the worst... is are like the most uncomfortable because sure, I'm dating a cis man right now. I very well might marry him and have a husband. But it's just the kind of assumption, it's just the reaffirming of a stereotype that what if I wasn't ever going to have a husband like, why can't you say if you have a spouse in the future or something like that, it’s those types, It's like a real It's a very small thing that you don't think of if you're not queer, but when you’re queer, it really stands out a lot because it just really really... It feels like you're highlighting that I'm different in some way.
This further highlights the interconnectedness and overlapping nature of microaggression classifications, because while it is a statement that is largely insensitive to non-heteronormative lifestyles, it is also a microinvalidation. It is not hard to see how students identifying as LGBTQ+ would feel diminished by stereotypical views of heteronormative relationships permeating classrooms. This also reflects Vaccaro and Koob’s (2019) observations concerning how the role of the individual perpetrating the microaggression influences the target’s reactions to such behavior. A professor is in a position of power over students, thus microaggressions emanating from their verbal, nonverbal, and behavioral actions can carry a lot of weight in determining whether a student who identifies as LGBTQ+ feels safe and/or integrated into their classroom which may extend to perceptions of belonging on campus.
Participants relayed many examples of microassaults from their lived experiences. They faced these assaults in high school, their hometowns, on campus, and through interactions with various organizations. Like other forms of microaggression, many of these microassaults were attributed to religious or Greek organizations or individuals affiliated with them. A few participants disclosed that they were outed in high school and that students reacted by approaching them in the school and asking if they were gay. One participant described how some students they went to high school with also went to the university, but that they avoided these people due to their previous experiences with them. Another participant noted that he was outed on a GroupMe thread in high school when a boy he went to school with made a homophobic joke about him hooking up with a guy.
Another participant noted that the university was where school became unsafe, and that the first time she was called a slur was on campus:
Until I got to university, I had never been called a slur, like really recently, a couple weeks ago I got called a slur in the library. And that's an example of when it became really unsafe. But it wasn't like a really bad slur like I wasn’t called the “f” slur, But I was called homo and it was just the way they worded it, like yeah I am, but the way they worded it was like really off-setting. I don’t really remember how it was said, but it was really said really negatively that I was like yeah I don't feel safe.
The participant went on to convey that this microassault impacted the way she viewed people on campus because “sometimes people don’t see me as another human being just because of my sexuality.” Participants across our focus groups noted the problematic nature of Yik-Yak, an anonymous posting application used by students on campus, because one student making an anonymous slur or threat had the consequence of making the whole campus feel unsafe due to the inability to determine who had made the comment. While the application allows anonymous posts, it reveals the poster’s location so students can see how close the posters are to their location. Again, this highlights the complex relationship between interpersonal and microclimate aggressions.
Vaccaro and Koob (2019) classified two major reactions to microaggressions including engagement or disengagement. While several participants relayed reactions that fit into these categories, we also found a distinct theme among our participants that involved reacting to microaggressions or the fear of microaggressions by building community among one another. Below we detail the themes based on participants’ reactions to microaggressions.
Engagement has been described as acts of defiance, which are typically accomplished through discussion, dress, and/or expression (Vaccaro & Koob, 2019). When discussing means of increasing personal safety, several of our participants noted that they tried to look confident or intimidating. One participant succinctly stated: “I try to look more intimidating.” While another participant said: “I definitely try to seem less approachable. Like definitely make sure I look mean.” Another said when they are feeling less than confident, they will make sure their full sleeve tattoo is showing because they saw it as a sign of strength that perhaps makes them seem less approachable. They also discussed the success of their confidence, with one participant noting that while they were not sure if being confident lowered the risk of experiencing victimization, it seemed to work for them:
I personally try to exude some sort of confidence. It's like, Do you want to try this? Does it actually work? I don't know. I don't know if anyone has wanted to hurt me and not but I know that I haven't ever experienced a situation where I'm like, oh no, I’m scared.
Students from two separate focus groups also mentioned what they termed a “mini-pride” event that occurred during the first few weeks of the fall semester. Participants detailed an incident where a preacher was on campus with a microphone name calling at passersby. He was using derogatory language, particularly aimed at individuals identifying with gender and sexual minoritized identities. According to participants in one focus group:
Participant 1: People who look visibly queer have been called the F-slur (by the preacher with the microphone).
Participant 2: I’ve figured he's going to, I've always, I'm always like there's gonna be some horrible thing here, like students and him clashing. Like I think that happened.
Participant 1: It did the first time they had like a ..pop-up mini pride against him one day.
Participant 3: Yeah. I remember that because I was coming back to the dorm from work and I was just driving. I was like, is there like, I just see a crowd and I'm like, Oh my gosh is there a fight I drove up, I see it’s the guy I'm like, don't interact with him. That's my main philosophy whenever those people come on campus, just don't interact with them. I was like, Okay. Yeah.
Details from the other focus group participants were similar. The following passage demonstrates how some participants chose to avoid the man, while others engaged.
Participant 1:: One thing is it's every single year, so it kind of sucks, but definitely avoid him. I definitely avoid him. Or I just go in front of him and I pester him.
Participant 2: As you should.
Participant 1: Yeah I pester him, like..
Participant 2: I did that too, I did that this year.
A notable component of these exchanges within the focus group sessions was the intense participation within this conversation. Even participants who had not personally witnessed the event heard about it through word of mouth. The groups noted that the LGBTQ+ organization on campus warned people of his presence and relayed that some people were rallying against him. It appeared the organization wanted to make students aware so they could plan to avoid or engage based on their level of comfort. It was also clear there was a distinct mix of fear regarding what could result from the event, while also evidence of pride for standing up for themselves and the LGBTQ+ community.
We observed more stories of disengagement from our participants than engagement. Disengaging actions include masking one’s identity, attempting to “pass,” or avoiding certain places or people (Vaccaro & Koob, 2019). Many of our participants reported at least one incident of disengagement, and indeed, disengagement was a running theme across all focus groups as a coping mechanism for victimization. It was the most mentioned theme when discussing safety precautions. Students noted that they avoided certain groups, notably religious or Greek organizations. They further described dressing a particular way for classes to go unnoticed. Several also mentioned that they did not feel like they were as likely to be targeted because they could be “straight passing.”
Regarding avoidance, a participant in our fourth focus group noted that she tended to avoid Christian organizations on campus.
I tend to avoid like the Christian organizations on campus and their events. Just because I've had a previous, a few previous experiences in the past or like just hearing the way that people talked about people within the LGBTQ plus community, especially when it concerns gender, really made me uncomfortable. And yeah, so I don't like taking the risk of not knowing if I'm going to be in a space where I'm going to hear something that personally makes me feel uncomfortable or is something that's rude and negative about like how I identify, or about how like people that I'm around identify.
Another discussed how they based their wardrobe on the situation they would be in, and that they were likely to dress more conservatively in some classes, depending on their interpreted expectations of the classroom. The following quote underscores the amount of planning and preparation that this strategy entails.
It's kind of expected, but yeah, I kind of alter how I dress. I'm wearing a very simple outfit today, but I do like to wear it kinda crazy outfits and makeup and stuff. And I definitely kind of alter how I dress even based on like, what classes I'm going to.
The notion of passing to avoid being targeted or victimized might be best articulated with the following two statements:
Yeah, I don't really present particularly queer, I guess, at least not to my knowledge. So I don't really feel like I'm going to be attacked for being queer in any way because I don’t, I’m not obviously queer. If that makes any sense?
Uhm, like, I don't think I'd be targeted. But again, same, it’s because of the way I present myself. Well, my favorite shirt It's just like this little T-shirt it says “be a nice human” with the rainbow underneath. And just wearing that around {state redacted} before I've just had people be like: “Oh are you gay?” Okay, the message is be a nice human. But that’s like…..anyways that's besides the point. But again, I feel like if I did wear that shirt or did express myself more in the way as I normally do when I'm not coming to campus. I think the possibility {of victimization} would increase.
Again, most of our participants reported some form of disengagement that they used as a reaction to threats, whether they be past, current, future, or vicarious threats. Indeed, a member of one focus group was so disheartened by the discussions of avoidance and passing, that while they were relating their own tendencies to disengage, they hated that others had the same story:
It's hard…. Like now when I go into very, very, very southern hillbilly-esque towns, do I not hold my girlfriend’s hand in those situations? Absolutely not. That's a little scary…. So I don t know what this campus is like at nighttime from personal experience. But I think like having a sense of self confidence is big, right? Because like it breaks my heart that one of the go-to things that I've heard in this room is I’m just less myself. Because you guys are cool.
Community-Building to Enhance Safety and Comfort
The previous passage also highlights a theme that emerged through our discussion groups that does not fit readily within the model outlined by Vaccaro and Koob (2019). Several participants across all groups noted that they made efforts to build community as a form of fostering feelings of safety and increasing comfort. They expressed how they actively sought out other people who identified as LGBTQ+, actively gave each other compliments, and discussed moments of bravery they engaged in as an effort to make other people more comfortable.
When discussing why they were participating in our focus groups, one student replied that she “wanted to meet other individuals that are part of the LGBTQ+ community because I don’t really know that many people honestly,” to which several other participants in the session agreed. To this end, at the end of almost every focus group session, the researchers witnessed participants exchanging contact information or providing information regarding the dedicated LGBTQ+ organization and other safe spaces on campus. Many participants walked out together with people they had just met during the session.
Participants also identified times when they were brave to help others. Community building could overlap with behaviors that Vaccaro and Koob (2019) classified as engagement, but these actions were motivated by the desire to make the environment safer for others who identified as LGBTQ+, not just themselves. Thus, it was not a simple reaction to the individual microaggression. For instance, several students were nodding or affirming the actions of others regarding the preacher and the mini-pride event. They indicated that they said something because other people could not. One student discussed using dress to make others feel more comfortable:
But sometimes I'll go out of my way, like I'll do the opposite. I will go out of my way to look more androgynous or look more queer in those big classes in case there's someone else that's like, I don't feel comfortable because …I’m hoping that they’ll see me and be like, oh that person is comfortable enough to do it. I know that I have at least one other person in here with me that I can feel that I know won’t judge me. I know will be on my side.
Again, while this could be considered an act of engagement, the participant made it clear that she did this because she wanted to make others feel safe. Another student in that group responded, “I’ll do that too.” It was a clear theme throughout the focus groups that individuals within the LGBTQ+ community wanted to support each other and make each other feel more comfortable.
Consistent with past research, the current study documents various forms of implicit and explicit bias that college students who identify as LGBTQ+ encounter on campus. Additionally, the findings from our study largely fit within the framework developed by previous researchers (Sue 2010; Nadal et al., 2010) and expanded by Vacarro and Koob (2019). Our findings highlight how students experience these microaggressive behaviors at the individual level as well as call attention to broader social influences that filter down into institutional microclimates such as student groups, campus organizations, and classrooms. The findings indicate that students take conscious steps to avoid victimization and discomfort – notably microaggressions – on campus. Our participants also responded to microaggressions in similar patterns as those laid by Vaccaro and Koob (2019) with both engagement and disengagement strategies, yet we noted one more type of response: community building to enhance safety and support. Overall, the results contribute to the extant body of literature dedicated to understanding the campus climate for students who identify as LGBTQ+ and present several key implications for policy, practice, and future research.
First, participants in the current study noted a variety of ways in which they manage their anticipated reactions to and responses of those around them on campus. It was clear that mechanisms (e.g., altering behavior and dress) aimed at reducing the likelihood of encountering microaggressions required careful planning and almost constant vigilance to determine the “vibe” of a given situation. They took active steps to “pass” as heterosexual and/or cisgender in situations they felt were more heteronormative and cisgendered. While the focus of many of their behaviors was aimed at reducing microaggressions, it should be noted that some participants mentioned fear of being “hate crimed.” Some participants indicated that while they did not feel like they would experience a hate crime and that they were more worried about people yelling at them or microaggressions, the fear of violent victimization was often an undercurrent guiding their protective action. The vigilance of determining the “vibe” in situations often appeared to be rooted in making sure the situation did not get “out of control” to where violent victimization may occur. It seems safe to suggest that this behavior management takes a toll on individuals who must consistently engage in this type of protective behavior. Consistent with our findings, minority stress theory (Brooks, 1981; Meyer 2003) suggests that bias, stigma, and discrimination lead individuals with minoritized identities to encounter stress and hostility within their social environments, which contributes to negative mental health outcomes. Scholars have found support for minority stress theory’s arguments with evidence linking microaggressions to psychological distress and other mental health problems (Nadal et al., 2016; Woodford et al., 2018). Such stress on a college campus could potentially impact academic success and retention.
Participants also called attention to a unique reaction to microaggressions: active community building. Students discussed multiple ways in which they attempted to make other members of the LGBTQ+ community feel supported and welcome on campus. These attempts were often discussed within the context of environments, like classrooms, where students who identified as LGBTQ+ might feel unwelcome and/or isolated. While this behavior could be viewed as a form of engagement (Vaccaro & Koob, 2019), it was not portrayed by participants as a way to engage with individuals who perpetrate microaggressions rather it was conveyed as a way to help other LGBTQ+ identifying students. It was a way they could support one another. These acts of openness and outward symbols of community were viewed as a means of fostering inclusivity for peers who may not feel comfortable disclosing their sexual or gender identity in a specific context. Thus, we believe this finding could be used to expand Vaccaro and Koob’s (2019) model of LGBTQ microaggressions. In their work, Vaccaro and Koob (2019) noted that “models are not meant to be static…they are meant to be applied, tested, critiqued, and expanded by researchers” (p. 1337). Our findings work to expand their model and indeed fall in line with the dynamic spirit they proposed for their model.
Collectively, the current findings present several practical implications, especially for collegiate institutions. The themes that emerged from focus groups indicate that university employees at all levels need to be cognizant of marginalized students’ experiences. It is important that faculty, staff, and administrators not only examine their own implicit as well as explicit biases and how these prejudices affect their individual behavior, but that university employees must advocate for university-wide changes that recognize LGBTQ+ students’ experiences. As recommended by Miller and Smith (2021), adding a discussion of gender and sex diversity, as well as fostering a meaningful dialogue on the lived experiences of varying segments of the LGTBQ+ population within ongoing professional development efforts may help employees recognize their own biases, as well as consider ways to be more inclusive and respectful in their everyday encounters. For instance, making faculty aware that their assumptions surrounding gender may serve to exclude students in their classes and how small steps like simply asking for names and pronouns can go a long way in making students who identify as LGBTQ+ feel more comfortable in their classes. Participants in our study made it clear that if they felt safe with the professor, they felt safe in the classroom. They often perceived a faculty member as safe when they asked for pronouns and names, or if they provided trigger warnings for material that might be considered re-traumatizing. Education is a vital first step in addressing one’s own responsibility in ensuring students feel safe to be themselves on campus, but it is also necessary if we expect university employees to advocate for students who identify as LGBTQ+.
Additionally, focus group participants consistently discussed the plethora of religious organizations affiliated with campus while simultaneously noting the dearth of LGBTQ+ dedicated resources. This is not to say that they did not speak highly of the one campus student organization devoted specifically to LGBTQ+ identifying students and the university campus center that also served LGBTQ+ identifying students as part of its programming, but they recognized that dedicated resources for students in the LGTBQ+ community were lacking. To provide more context, at the time of the focus group interviews, there were 16 campus ministries and 11 religious-based student groups listed on the university’s organization page5. In comparison, there was only one dedicated campus group for LGBTQ+ students and the diversity center where interviews took place also specifies LGBTQ+ students as a target population. Therefore, our findings coincide with other studies that underscore variation in the prevalence of campus resources aimed at serving LGBTQ+ students with some campuses lacking dedicated spaces for gender and sexually diverse students (Coley & Das, 2020; Nguyen et al., 2018). An important step to improving the campus climate and feelings of inclusivity for students who identify as LGBTQ+ is to increase the presence of LGBTQ+ specific groups/services on campuses and/or actively integrate LGBTQ+ students into existing campus spaces. For example, some of our study participants reported experiencing microaggressions with their roommates on campus and were met with an unsatisfying solution from housing. Thus, it may be important to not only educate campus housing staff about how to properly manage these issues so that all parties are respected but also identify ways to better accommodate LGBTQ+ identifying students in the housing assignment process.
Further, it may be that some university services and groups are welcoming to gender and sexually diverse students but their efforts at inclusion are not well-known or advertised to students. Consequently, it is not only important to actively promote the integration of LGBTQ+ students into the campus community via additional culturally specific programming and service provision, but it is also necessary to further promote existing campus efforts. Miller and Smith (2021) describe passive components of inclusivity that may take place throughout the university, which relate to increasing the visibility of safe spaces for LGBTQ+ students. University entities can engage in passively integrating LGBTQ+ students by employing visual representations of the LGBTQ+ community in different spaces (e.g., rainbow flags, pronoun pins) to recognize the presence of gender and sexually diverse students, and/or to indicate allyship. Increasing passive efforts may signify to students who are LGBTQ+ that campus is a safe space. However, these efforts should not simply be undertaken to “check a box” or appear welcoming to LGBTQ+ identifying students rather universities need to take the use of these symbols seriously so as to not further isolate and stigmatize minoritized students should these “safe” spaces not truly be hospitable to diverse students. Considering our finding that a specific set of responses to microaggressions is community building, these efforts to identify safe spaces may be even more important for students navigating campus life and trying to build community with one another.
A few noteworthy limitations of the current work must be examined. First, due to the original scope of the study, we were unable to explore all aspects of the college environment that may influence and relate to LGBTQ+ microaggressions. Moreover, recruitment efforts targeted the broad LGBTQ+ community, and subsequently, focus groups were comprised of individuals identifying with diverse gender and sexual identities. Since groups were composed of a mixture of identities, we were unable to tap into the nuanced experiences of individuals with specific minoritized gender and sexual identities. There was also limited racial diversity within the sample. Most participants were white, which affected our ability to explore the intersection of minoritized identities. Recent research notes the importance of exploring the intersections of minoritized identities such as having a disability while also identifying as LGBTQ+ (see Miller & Smith, 2021; Vaccaro & Koob, 2019). Some participants did note the importance of considering the impact of race on LGBTQ+ persons’ experiences, and one participant discussed the impact of ableism, however, these discussions did not comprise a theme in the current work. Future research should consider how intersectionality may impact experiences with microaggressions on campus. Additionally, our findings are limited by the small sample size. Our findings may not be representative of the experiences of LGBTQ+ students outside of the university within the Southeast United States from which it was derived. Nevertheless, our findings align with prior studies of microaggressions conducted in other regions of the U.S. (Miller & Smith, 2021; Nadal et al., 2011; Nadal et al., 2016; Platt & Lenzen, 2013). Finally, we recognize the limitation of the two primary researchers of this study being heterosexual, white, cis women and how this might have influenced our respondents’ interactions within the study and how we interpreted the data, specifically due to our lack of firsthand knowledge/lived experiences of what it feels like to be a person who identifies as LGBTQ+. We did our best to mitigate these possibilities by creating a warm and inviting atmosphere during our focus groups, and by having the director of the diversity center read over our findings to see if they fit with what they knew about the community studied. We sought to allow our respondents to build off one another, and we only engaged when we were asking a new round of questions or following up/clarifying participant responses. We feel our efforts were successful as many of our participants thanked us for giving them space to talk and for listening to their thoughts on topics they felt were important to them. We also observed that several of our participants exchanged contact information with one another after our focus group sessions ended – again noting their inclination toward community building.
Despite limitations, the use of focus groups enabled participants to build off one another’s contributions and expand on their peers’ reported experiences. These first-hand accounts enabled us to collect rich data on the lived experiences of students who are LGBTQ+ and how these experiences inform their behavior. Data based on a larger-scale survey instrument would likely not capture the detailed descriptions of microaggressions and the methods employed by students to avoid and/or engage with perpetrator(s) or environment(s).
Students who identify as LGBTQ+ are constantly navigating on and off-campus environments to reduce their perceived chances of victimization. Often they relate their perceived risk of victimization to their experiences with forms of LGBTQ+ microaggressions. The current study adds to the growing literature focused on these students’ experiences by highlighting the consistencies in actions taken by students in this study with other studies studies (i.e., Sue & Capodilup, 2008; Sue, 2010; Vaccaro & Koob, 2019) and by noting a unique reaction to microaggressions: active community building. Participants in our research were constantly checking the “vibe” of environments in order to determine risk of victimization (whether it be violent or verbal), and when possible, they actively worked to make environments more inviting for LGBTQ+ identifying individuals. Oftentimes, these actions were small, such as how they presented in their dress, but they were done purposefully and with the intention of letting other LGBTQ+ identifying individuals feel more comfortable. They also noted the small changes that professors could make that would result in the classroom feeling safer like asking pronouns and names. However, there are many additional changes campuses could enact to be more inclusive and safer for students who identify as LGBTQ+. University campuses, administrators, faculty, and staff should work together to make campus a safer place for all students so that universities remain a place where students can learn and flourish.
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Christina Policastro, Ph.D. is a UC Foundation Associate Professor of Criminal Justice in the Department of Social, Cultural, and Justice Studies at the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga. Her primary research interests are in the area of victimization with a specific focus on intimate partner violence. She has published articles on diverse topics including perceptions of intimate partner violence victims, pre-professionals’ knowledge of elder abuse, and trajectories of recurring victimization among persons with serious mental illness. Her most recent work appears in the Journal of Quantitative Criminology, Journal of Interpersonal Violence, and Criminal Justice Review. In 2017, Dr. Policastro received the New Scholar Award from the Academy of Criminal Justice Sciences’ Division of Victimology. Dr. Policastro has also served on the executive board for the Southern Criminal Justice Association (2016-2019) and the executive board of ACJS's Victimology Section (2019-2023).
Courtney Crittenden, Ph.D. is a UC Foundation Associate Professor of Criminal Justice in the Social, Cultural, and Justice Studies Department at the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga. Her research interests include jail and prison programming, consensual sexual relationships between faculty and students, and the measurement of social identities and their intersections in criminology.
Jadon Clark, M.S. is an alumnus of The University of Tennessee at Chattanooga. She is currently employed by the U.S. Probation Office Eastern District. Her research interests include exploring gender and its relation to crime and victimization.
Rileigh Arrington, M.S. is an alumnus of the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga.