I was a sophomore at the College of William and Mary in Williamsburg, Virginia. The first fraternity, Phi Beta Kappa, was founded at the College in 1776, making William and Mary the birthplace of the Greek system in America. But I wasn’t thinking about that as I slunk in late to formal meeting. I was just trying not to get caught.

Jenny Hagel

I rushed in dressed up, wearing my Kappa Delta pin. I took a seat in the back row and crossed my legs at the ankles, per formal meeting rules. As I did, I looked to my right and noticed two fellow sophomores, Mary and April, giggling to each other.

“What are you two laughing about?” I whispered, eager to be in on the joke. They looked at each other, turned to me and smiled that smile of people about to let you in on something really good.

“You know how they say that ten percent of people are gay?” Mary asked.  “Sure,” I shrugged. I thought I’d heard that vaguely somewhere.

“There are a hundred people in this room,” April pointed out. “So. Who do you think it is?” The three of us craned our necks and looked around the room at our sisters. At the rows of girls, dressed up, wearing sorority pins, legs crossed at the ankles.

“No way,” I thought. “There is no way anyone in this room is gay.” Twelve years later, it turns out that four of the women in that room were gay.

Turns out one of them was me.

If you had asked me in 1996 if there was anything wrong with being gay, I would have emphatically replied “no.” I knew, intellectually, that there was nothing wrong with being gay. Still, it was something that people didn’t really talk about.

The late ‘90s were a unique moment in time, just after it was no longer considered okay in most circles to be openly homophobic but just before being gay started to be met with acceptance. In 1987, Eddie Murphy’s box office smash Raw opened with Murphy declaring proudly, “I hate faggots.” In 1998, Will & Grace premiered as the first network television show to include gay characters in its premise. But in that space in between there was a certain silence around gayness.

I wasn’t self aware enough as a college sophomore to understand that I might be gay. And so I felt then about gay people the way I sometimes feel now about victims of a natural disaster in a far away country. I understood in an intellectual way that they were in a difficult, complex situation, but I didn’t understand how that connected to my life.

And because gay people seemed so distant and far away, it never occurred to me that one might be in my sorority.

Twelve years later, a lot has changed for gay people in America. While, clearly, there is a long way to go toward achieving full social acceptance and civil rights, huge advancements have been made towards equality in the last decade. At a time when Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, the right to marry, and protection from workplace discrimination still hang in the balance for so many gay Americans, though, why should anyone care about gays and lesbians in fraternities and sororities? Why does it matter if a gay undergraduate man is allowed to attend a toga party? Or if a young lesbian has access to all-night puffy-painting sessions?

According to the North-American Interfraternity Council, 9 million people in the U.S. and Canada are current or alumni/ae members of the Greek system. Over the course of American history, 48 percent of U.S. presidents, 42 percent of U.S. senators, 30 percent of congressional representatives and 40 percent of U.S. Supreme Court justices have been Greek. Thirty percent of Fortune 500 executives are Greek. So, even if the worst stereotypes of Greek life are to be believed, it seems that the beer bong enthusiasts of today are the decision-makers of tomorrow.

Several greek organizations created specifically for LGBT (and LGBT-friendly) members exist throughout the U.S. The largest LGBT greek organizations include Delta Lambda Phi National Fraternity, founded in 1986, and Gamma Rho Lambda National Sorority, founded in 2003.

The exact number of such organizations is difficult to determine, however, because many gay fraternities and sororities consist of only one local chapter.

In any case, whether or not gay and lesbian students feel welcomed into mainstream fraternities and sororities by today’s young people can tell us a lot about how gays and lesbians will be treated by tomorrow’s adults. And, more importantly, how they  – and their rights – will be treated by our nation’s future leaders.

NEXT PAGE: “You didn’t want anyone in your sorority to be gay.”

That’s how I felt Tuesday night as I stood in Grant Park with 500,000 people, listening to Barack Obama give his victory speech. I was the least likely person to be there.

I say “least likely” because, embarrassingly, I have a history of political apathy. I’m 31, but I didn’t start voting for president until 2004.

In 1996, I was in college and too embedded in the insular bubble of campus life to care about what was going on in the outside world.

In 2000, my excuse was even lamer – I never registered to vote.

I meant to, I really did. There was a voter registration table outside my grocery store and every time I passed it on the way in I’d think, “I’ll register on the way out.” And then every time I passed it on the way out it seemed like too much of a hassle to set all of my bags down to fill out the form.

At the height of the suffrage movement, some women were willing to lay down their lives for the chance to register to vote. I wasn’t willing to lay down a gallon of milk.

But there I was on Tuesday, in a line outside Grant Park, clutching my rally ticket like I’d found it in a Wonka Bar.

While I now vote, my approach to politics is still hands off. I don’t volunteer, I don’t canvas, I don’t donate. I never thought, in a million years, that I would attend a political rally.

I never thought I would stand in line for two hours to hear a politician speak. Or make frantic phone calls demanding election results. Or restrain myself from hugging strangers over shared love of a candidate.

I never thought I’d shout “Viva Obama!” at a news crew from Spain before adamantly telling them in Spanish that Obama was going to win and everyone knew it, so there.

But really, how could I help it? The air in Chicago was so charged on Tuesday night, it felt like if you lit a match, Chicago just might explode like a piñata. There was an outbreak of Obama Fever and I was not immune.

After waiting in line for two hours, my friends and I finally, finally got to the park. Just as we crossed through the entrance gate, a guy ran by us shouting, “CNN JUST CALLED IT! OBAMA WON!!” I broke into a full sprint. I pumped my fist in the air. I woo-woo’ed. When we found a spot in the huge field where people were gathered, I asked a man in front of me to remove his fedora so I could stare adoringly at a distant speck that may or may not have been Obama’s podium. And when the victory speech started, I got goose bumps.

I was moved by much of what Obama said Tuesday night, but most of all by this: “This victory alone is not the change we seek. It is only the chance for us to make that change.”

He’s right, I thought. It’s not enough that I voted. It’s not enough that he got elected. While I’m casually declaring at parties that politics “isn’t my thing,” my civil rights movement is going on around me. The war for my rights is being waged, and not just by other LGBT people, but also by straight allies who don’t want to live in a country where discrimination is law. What will I tell my children when they ask what I did during the fight for equal marriage? That I crossed my fingers and hoped it would turn out okay? That I sat back and let other people win my rights for me? That politics wasn’t my thing?

Externally, I joined the crowd in Grant Park chanting, “Yes we can.” Internally, I vowed to get involved.

The rest of the evening is a blur. We walked the streets of downtown Chicago and bought funny Obama t-shirts and talked to strangers. We met two undergrads from Indiana University who had driven to Chicago that night to be part of the excitement. “I gotta find out if he took Indiana,” one of them said, “‘Cause if he did I’m gonna do, like, five shots.”

Finally, at 3 a.m., my friends and I collapsed in a hotel room we’d booked on Michigan Avenue.
Even though I didn’t drink Tuesday night, when I woke up Wednesday morning I felt hung over. I had an early conference call, so I put on my clothes from the night before and tiptoed out of the hotel room where my friends still slept. I slunk into a Dunkin Donuts and ordered coffee.

This feeling is familiar, I thought. What is it? I took inventory of myself. Bed head. Smeared mascara. Last night’s clothes. Oh, yeah, I thought, This is the Walk of Shame. The Morning After.

We all know that feeling, right? From college? You go to a great party and spend the night there and the next morning you have to crawl back to your end of campus in some incriminating glittery tank top that tells everyone you did not wake up at home. The fifteen-dollars-worth of Obama buttons on my jacket were my glittery tank top. I was totally having a Morning After.

It made me think of how sometimes, when you’re drunk, you and a friend will start hatching crazy plans.

“We are going to Vegas TOMORROW!” you and your friend will declare on a porch at 4 a.m. “As soon as we wake up, we are booking flights and we are GOING!”

And in the midst of the excitement of drinking and partying, this sounds like a GREAT idea. It sounds, in fact, like the only logical thing to do. Then you wake up the morning after and you slowly remember that you promised to go to Vegas and you get kind of nervous as you remember that you have things to do and Vegas is kind of loud and do you really even like that friend anyway?

In a similar fashion, on the morning after the rally, I started remembering pieces of Tuesday night. Soon I was remembering my drunk-on-Obama promise to myself to get civically involved.

I wonder if I’ll actually do it, I wondered.

Three days later, I’m hoping that I will.

I’m hoping that I’ll take President-Elect Obama’s words to heart and seize the chance to make the change that I seek. That I’ll stop relying on others to move this country forward, to win my rights for me, and that I’ll start trying to do so myself.

I’m hoping this is the year, the moment, that I finally lay down my gallon of milk and get involved.

Jenny Hagel is a writer and actor in Chicago.

As the woman behind the counter ran my credit card, she casually drawled, “Yep. It’s thirty-five dollars unless you’re co-workers, spouses or domestic partners.” My partner and I exchanged a look and I knew we were both thinking the same thing: “Is it worth thirty-five dollars to convince someone that we’re gay? In public? In a red state?”

Thriftiness got the best of me and I blurted out, “We’re a couple!” “Okay, then,” the woman smiled, “let me cancel that charge.”

While my awkward self-outing saved me $35 (and brought my relationship with the Avis woman to whole new level of honesty), it probably would have been easier for me to know the company’s policy before I arrived. Not interested in having your own Very Special Episode of Blossom at a rental car counter? Check out the list below for details on the additional driver policies at some of the nation’s largest rental car companies.

Avis & Budget

When it comes to adding your partner as an additional driver, it doesn’t get much easier than Avis. According to Alice Pereira, Manager of Public Relations for the Avis Budget Group (which owns Avis), “Domestic partners are included, no questions asked.” In fact, Avis is the official car rental choice of the National Gay and Lesbian Chamber of Commerce.

Avis’ gay-friendly policy applies to all of their corporate-owned and operated locations. A small percentage of locations are owned by licensees, however, and the policy may vary at these locations.

How do you know if a rental location is owned by the corporation or by a licensee? “Call the location,” Pereira says. “For the most part our licensees do follow our policy but it’s best to call to be sure.”

To reserve a car, and to learn about Avis’ domestic partner policy, visit www.avis.com/prouder.

Budget Rent-A-Car is also owned by the Avis Budget Group and Pereira says that there are, “no additional driver fees for domestic partners on the Budget side [of the company] either.” According to Pereira, Budget’s additional driver policy, with respect to domestic partners, is the same as Avis’.

Learn more, or rent a car, at www.Budget.com.

Enterprise

Enterprise Rent-A-Car also waives the additional driver fee for domestic partners. “This is standard throughout the company at all locations,” according to Lisa Martini, Manager of Public Relations for Enterprise.

For more, visit www.enterprise.com.

Dollar & Thrifty

Dollar Rent-A-Car and Thrifty (both owned by the Dollar Thrifty Automotive Group, Inc.) charge additional driver fees for opposite- and same-sex partners. According to Chris Payne, spokesperson for Dollar Thrifty, “Our policy is that additional drivers identified as a life partner will be treated as a spouse.” When asked why Dollar Thrifty has a policy on same-sex partners when there is no discount involved, Payne replied, “We just want to make sure it’s a non-issue for us….A customer’s a customer and we just treat everyone the same.”

Visit Dollar and Thrifty online at www.dollar.com and www.thrifty.com.

Hertz

Unfortunately, the Hertz corporate office did not return multiple calls for this article. According to the company’s reservation line, however, Hertz charges a daily fee for each additional driver, regardless of their relationship to the renter. This policy is consistent across the country, although the amount of the fee varies from state to state (for example, it’s $3 per day in New York and $11 per day in Illinois). The only exception is for Hertz Gold Members, who may add an opposite- or same-sex partner to their rental agreement free of charge.

Check out www.hertz.com for more information.
What if..?

It’s wedding season again, and my partner and I have yet another out-of-state wedding to attend. Last week, we called around to rental car companies, checking availability and comparing prices. The calls were routine until, during one call, my partner’s brow furrowed.

“Budget just told me I can add a husband for free, but not a domestic partner,” she said as she hung up.

“That can’t be right,” I said. Having spoken recently with Pereira, I knew that was inconsistent with the Avis Budget Group’s policy.

I called Budget’s toll free number and was also told that I could not add a domestic partner to my rental agreement for free. I asked a few follow up questions and the agent ultimately admitted that she wasn’t entirely sure what the company’s policy was.

Finally, I asked to speak to a manager, who assured me that I could add my partner to my rental agreement without an additional fee. Ultimately, I got the right answer – but it took three conversations to get it.

I spoke with Pereira about my experience with Budget’s reservation line. She reiterated that, at Budget, “domestic partners are treated as spouses.”

So what if, as in my case, a traveler knows that a company’s official policy is the same for opposite- and same-sex partners, but the agent they speak with doesn’t comply? “They should ask to speak to a supervisor,” Pereira says, “because that’s the policy.”

Travelers who are AAA members can call AAA Headquarters in Orlando, FL for help with customer service issues. According to AAA Director of Public Relations, Mike Pina, AAA’s Member Services Department is happy to intervene to resolve conflicts between members and travel service providers. “Our policy,” says Pina, “is that everyone receives equal treatment…and we would certainly encourage our partners not to discriminate.”

To contact AAA Headquarters, call 407-444-7000.

You can be your own advocate, though, by knowing a company’s official policy before you make your reservation. As illustrated above, calls to a company’s reservation line can yield a variety of responses, both correct and incorrect. For the most accurate information, call the rental company’s corporate office.

In her latest book, “Don’t Call Me a Drama Queen,” Dr. Debra (as she calls herself) introduces readers to the Drama Queen Syndrome and offers advice on how to live a happier, drama-free life.

Recently, Dr. Debra spoke with 365gay.com about her new book, emotional goblins and Dora the Explorer.

Dr. Debra, what should readers know about your new book?

What’s most important about “Don’t Call Me a Drama Queen” is that we’re talking about loveable drama queens. Not those Emotional Vampire types.

How do you spot an Emotional Vampire?

Emotional Vampires, in my opinion, are the ones that really suck you dry. They have no sense that what they’re doing is causing somebody else distress.

Drama queens are people who have a sense that what they’re doing is overreacting. They’ve been told that they make mountains out of molehills, and they’re tired of doing it, but they just don’t feel like there’s any other way to be.

Are there other types of emotional creatures? Is there such a thing as an Emotional Goblin? An Emotional Unicorn?

I would bet that there are.

Do you think gay men are more likely to be drama queens? Or is that just a stereotype?

I think that’s definitely a stereotype.

I see it across the board. I see it in lawyers and teachers and clerical workers and actors and artists. [I see it] in gays and straights, in white, in black, in every kind of package.

It really depends more on the person and how they learned to process information in the world.

Are actual queens – like Queen Elizabeth or Queen Noor – more likely to be drama queens?

That would probably be more of a stereotype.

You can have people in power who are very subdued. Just look at the election that’s going on right now – look at the total difference in styles between the people who are in power.

Speaking of the current election, who do you think is a bigger drama queen: Obama or McCain?

Probably McCain.

I took the test at the beginning of your book and it turns out that I’m a level 2 drama queen. If you could give someone like me one piece of advice, what would it be?

Just take a look at what your reactors are. What are the things that push your buttons?

Once you identify them, you make a choice internally and you say, “I could actually have a different reaction to this if I recognize where I have control and where I don’t.”

In your book you talk about “hugging [someone] with your words.” How does that work, exactly?

You can inflame a drama queen with your words, by saying things like, “What is WRONG with you?”

That does not help a drama queen. Instead what you say is, “Hey, what is your trigger? There’s gotta be something that you’re reacting to that I just can’t see.”

That would be a hug with words. That would be saying, “I care about you and I’m concerned about what’s going on with you internally.”

You make the distinction in your book between “survivors” and “thrivers.” If I name some celebrities, can you tell me if they’re a “survivor” or a “thriver?”

Let’s give it a shot!

Britney Spears.

Oh, I’d say victim-survivor. I think maybe she’s headed in the direction of thriving. If she gets the good help that she needs she can get there.

Rudy Giuliani.

I would say that he poses as a thriver. I’m not so sure that he is.
 
Dora the Explorer.

I’m gonna guess that she’s a thriver.

What is the one thing that every drama queen should know?

Expectations are huge. If we can just get a handle on those, we won’t have that chronic sense of disappointment.

If you have a friend who you expect to be on time, who’s always late, what’s going to happen every time your friend’s late? You’re going to be disappointed and angry. Instead, understand that if you’re going to meet that friend for lunch, bring a book!

Anything else people should know about drama queens?

Everybody knows a drama queen in their life. It may be somebody you really adore and care about but you always feel like you’re sucked into some whirlwind of chaos with this person. It’s worth it, if this person is meaningful to you, to try to get a handle on this, so you can be a helpful part of his or her process in life.

Dr. Debra is a psychologist, relationship expert, author, columnist and speaker. Her new book, “Don’t Call Me a Drama Queen,” is now available in stores.

Visit Dr. Debra, online at www.drdebraonline.com.

“My partner and I were kind of slow on the uptake that morning, so we were flipping a coin for who was gonna drive,” Giebfried remembers.

Giebfried lost the coin toss and she and her partner, Jennifer Beckham, went to a local breakfast place for oatmeal. As they quietly ate, neither woman had any idea that within an hour, they would get a call on their radio that would put them at the center of one of the greatest tragedies in our nation’s history.

Giebfried and her partner rose above the call of duty that day.

At the World Trade Center site, they repeatedly put themselves in harm’s way as they moved people to safety, triaged wounds and calmed people’s fears.

Rev. Bonnie Giebfried

Twice, Giebfried was buried under falling rubble and managed to find her way out.

At one point, Giebfried gave her helmet away to a woman as she helped her out of the lobby of the South Tower.

“It was a horror movie scene,” Giebfried recalls. “Everything was burning.”

By the time she left Manhattan that morning, Giebfried had sustained multiple injuries and suffered three asthma attacks. More importantly to her, though, she had done her job.

Seven years later, Giebfried is still living with the physical effects of that morning. She has been diagnosed with 26 medical conditions, including post-traumatic stress disorder, reactive airway disease, arthritis, vertigo and “WTC Cough.” Her thumb, wrist and arm have been reconstructed.

“I’ll never be without medications now because of the injuries and the diseases I have acquired from doing my job,” Giebfried says.

Giebfried’s situation is not uncommon. Seventy percent of the approximately 40,000 emergency responders present on 9/11 suffer from illnesses derived from their service at Ground Zero, according to John Feal, founder and president of the Fealgood Foundation, a non-profit dedicated to spreading awareness about the health effects of 9/11 on first responders.

Next page: No health insurance, no job