Last year, I was fortunate enough to be living on one of two gender inclusive floors here at USF, and my friend (now roommate) and I were discussing the possibility of living on campus. We had wanted to be roommates essentially since we had first met; we both valued our privacy, enjoyed the same snacks, and more importantly, we were both gender non-conforming.
We had this conversation in the comfort of my dorm room, accompanied by my roommate at the time. I had expressed my fear of having to live in all-girl dorms—fears my friend shared—because of how drastically it increased my dysphoria and the amount that I was misgendered.
My roommate did not see what the problem was. In fact, she jumped in the conversation by saying, “Well, as long as you apply early it shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll be applying to gender inclusive housing ‘cause I wanna stay on campus and that’s the easiest way.”
The air went frigid and my roommate stayed blissfully unaware of both my discomfort and her own privilege as a cis girl.
When housing applications opened again, I had to fill out a questionnaire to be considered for gender inclusive housing. One of the questions asked “What will you be contributing to this community?”
I wanted to answer sarcastically. I wanted to say “I’ll be bringing my non-binary self and the very concept that I should be providing something to you as a trans person instead of you, a housing organization, providing a safe space for me to live in is absurd.”
I didn’t answer in so many words, but I did think it was odd. Sure, the University of San Francisco is spearheading Jesuit universities as the first with gender inclusive housing. And yes, SHaRE does ask for pronouns and asks for gender inclusive housing applications. But so much of that feels incredibly performative.
For instance, our gender inclusive housing was cut down to two floors instead of being a building like it is with other campuses in California—in fact, on average there are more rooms afforded to males in Toler (previously Phelan) Hall than there are to females or gender non-conforming individuals.
Gender inclusive housing is also open to cis people. This isn’t inherently a problem and I understand how harmful gatekeeping can be, especially if people are closeted or questioning. However, it was more difficult for a few trans people I know to be accepted. Meanwhile, last year, my old roommate and a student who had transferred last minute to USF, both of who were cis, had rooms. Even this year, a person who was openly transphobic and misgendered both me and others lives on the floor. It seems so easy to be accepted on this floor when you’re cis it almost seems silly to have an application process at all.
It’s become pervasive among cis people at USF to take advantage of this as well—like my old roommate, they find it easy to have on-campus housing as long as they push the right buttons or say the right words. They game the lottery system that our school utilizes. Cis people are, as with other gender inclusive options at our school, completely heedless of their occupation of the spaces that trans people need and SHaRE really hasn’t done anything to rectify this with their application and vague wording.
Second, in my own correspondences with SHaRE I’ve been misgendered despite my name and pronouns being listed in my signatures. E-mails about housing are still sent to me using my legal name instead of my preferred name—so why ask for pronouns and preferred name if you won’t bother to use them?
It goes to say that perhaps it is not the fault of SHaRE but of the campus’s attitudes towards trans people as a whole. But SHaRE should still take responsibility and instruct cisgender people throughout the application process. There should be consequences for transphobic behavior both in and out of gender inclusive housing. It’s not an outlandish request to ask for gender inclusive people to live on the gender inclusive floors, and SHaRE should have that standard too.