At HBCUs, Some Queer Students Say They Have a Choice: Come Out or Join Divine 9 Greek Life

Illustration by Bea Oyster, Photos via Getty Images

*Indicates a name has been changed for privacy.

Nia Martin, a 2021 graduate of Howard University and member of the Alpha Chapter of Delta Sigma Theta Sorority, Inc. remembers vividly how emotional it was to begin at the historically Black university. “As soon as I went on campus it felt like home,” she says. “It was just the perfect fit for me — I really needed it. I would not be the person I am today if I did not go to Howard.”

Lovingly referred to as a “four-year family reunion,” historically Black colleges and universities (HBCUs) are often a safe haven for young, Black students beginning their journey into adulthood. It’s a chance to find yourself without navigating microaggressions, discrimination, and the daily mental olympics of interacting with white America — it’s also a unique opportunity to consistently sit in rooms where nearly everyone looks like you. That comfort is the reason that, like Martin, so many Black high schoolers look to these 107 colleges across the country as their potential home for higher education. Mostly founded during Reconstruction as a vehicle for Black youth (who were largely restricted from education) and newly free slaves to receive higher education, HBCUs are inherently focused on Black empowerment and cultural safeguarding. A large part of that safeguarding comes in the strong presence of Greek life and other organizations on these campuses.

Black Greek-letter organizations formed in the early 20th century as a response to the institutional racism of the time. These groups “evolved during a period when African Americans were being denied essential rights and privileges afforded others,” according to the National Pan-Hellenic Council, focused on providing space for Black students who shared common goals. Now, nine of these organizations — known as the Divine Nine — comprise the National Pan-Hellenic Council and have a strong cultural significance for Black Americans, playing a great role in uplifting many of their members. For HBCU students especially, the Divine Nine represents a path to success.

But for LGBTQ+ students, that path isn’t always so set in stone. For queer or trans students trying to join Greek life or other student organizations, and for queer and trans men in particular, Black Greek-letter organizations at their HBCU can foster a culture of heteronormative masculinity that makes it, if not unsafe, not in the student’s best interest to be openly queer.

“I think that royal courts, Greek letter organizations, [Student Government Associations] have always been organized by ideas of ‘proper gender,’” Jeffrey McCune Jr., PhD, the founding chair of the Department of Black Studies at the University of Rochester, says. Because these organizations can choose who joins their ranks, McCune says they’re primed to make exclusionary choices, like basing membership off being the “right kind of woman or man.” This can be particularly complicated when you layer in racial politics and the pressures of Black masculinity. “One’s appearance or style-choices [have] historically been a big part of exclusive practices — rooted in an unfortunate desire to police in ways which create a fiction that we are ‘keeping our community normal,’ when Blackness in America is always outside norms and never truly aligns with ideas of proper anything.”

In July, this message took the national stage when GLAAD reported that Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Inc. — the first Divine Nine organization founded— had moved to ban transgender members during the fraternity's annual convention in Chicago (the ban was passed during the organization’s constitutional convention, but still faces multiple steps before becoming official, including a general ballot vote, The Root reports). The proposed amendment to the fraternity's bylaws would restrict membership to "any male defined as a human being naturally born male, who remains and continually identifies as a male."

Teen Vogue has reached out to Alpha Phi Alpha for comment, but has not yet heard back.

This move sparked intense discussion in the Black community. Some support the effort, calling it a move to protect these Black cultural spaces; others called it an exclusionary and outdated attitude that doesn’t serve the community at large. But for LGBTQ students, it was yet another reminder that they don’t necessarily fit the traditional Black masculine role expected of them, particularly in these fraternities.

“For the males it just seems like they’re not budging,” Jessica*, who asked for anonymity because she hopes to join Greek life, says about Divine Nine fraternities. “That news came out about Alpha Phi Alpha considering a trans ban and my heart broke because I personally know a trans man that wants to join the organization. I also know a few gay men that are in the organization and just crossed in the last two years. So hearing that was heartbreaking because I don’t understand it.”

While Divine Nine organizations are a bastion for Black students, they’ve also historically excluded some students (the brown paper bag test was, unfortunately, real), and fostered a sense of elitism — that they were a space only for the chosen few. And, Black Greek organizations aren’t the only ones with issues — predominantly white organizations also come with their own set of flaws. But for queer HBCU students, entering into Greek life can feel almost like going back in the closet.

"Some people are just completely against the idea of coming out in college or they wait until they get their letters."

Da’Quan Cooney is a senior at Howard University. He previously served on the school’s royal court and does a lot of work with student government and Cascade, the LGBTQ+ organization at HU. A Howard legacy, Cooney has always been active in his community, but until he got to college, he says his sexuality was never something he placed at the forefront when it came to his community service. It became unavoidable to separate his identity from his on-campus image because of how loud of an advocate he chose to be.

But, Cooney says that choice can be challenging. Though he isn’t part of Greek life, his impression is that the overall environment of some campus organizations isn’t always accepting.

According to the Human Rights Campaign’s 2024 Black LGBTQ Youth Survey Report, 82.6% of Black LGBTQ+ youth are considering attending college, and 92.2% say that attending college is important. However, 28.6% of Black LGBTQ+ youth believe that their LGBTQ+ identity could negatively affect their future college and higher education opportunities. In a 2018 article, The Nation explored homophobia and transphobia at HBCUs that some called “embedded” in their culture.

“Traditionally HBCUs do well at nurturing the Black identity. Where we don’t always do a great job as HBCUs is also nurturing and supporting and showing compassion and understanding the gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, however you identify—that part of your identity,” Brent Lewis, who ran the LGBT center at Fayetteville State University, told The Nation at the time. “For students, that becomes difficult. As we think through intersectionality, our identities don’t move separately. Those identities impact each other.”

A.J. King, director of Intercultural Affairs and LGBTQ+ Resource Center, said Howard University focuses on intentionally inclusive policies and programming to ensure all students feel welcome, including numerous programs specifically for the LGBTQ community. Dominic Carter, assistant director of Fraternity and Sorority Affairs at Howard University, said that the school’s Greek letter organizations foster a “diverse, inclusive atmosphere” that’s in line with the University’s overall policy. In 2022, Howard was named the most inclusive HBCU for LGBTQ students by BestColleges.com.

Overall, Carter says he thinks that historically Black Greek letter organizations have become more inclusive in the last few years — something he believes Howard has influenced. “Our fraternities and sororities here are very inclusive and it has a trickle down effect to other institutions.”

For Cooney, the idea that certain organizations wouldn’t accept him because of his out-and-proud attitude still rings true. Some of these organizations, he feels, most accept “certain types of men.” In other words, men who are largely straight and traditionally masculine.

Winston Williams, an openly gay rising senior at North Carolina A&T University, reports a similar understanding, saying that there is a “mould” for those who are chasing after Greek positions or Student Government roles. There are outliers, but for many young people entering their historically Black university — finally having the chance to fit in — it can be hard to avoid making yourself fit that mould so you have access to the community the success Greek life can provide.

NASHVILLE - January 01:  Alpha Phi Alpha's Fraternity plot at Fisk University on January 1, 2016 in Nashville, Tennessee. (Photo By Raymond Boyd/Getty Images)
NASHVILLE - January 01: Alpha Phi Alpha's Fraternity plot at Fisk University on January 1, 2016 in Nashville, Tennessee. (Photo By Raymond Boyd/Getty Images)

“When you have aspirations to do different things on campus, everyone's watching,” Williams says. “I think that adds a whole other layer, especially if you're trying to be in a fraternity or sorority. Some people are just completely against the idea of coming out in college or they wait until they get their letters, which is understandable because there's ignorance in a lot of spaces. And especially with the Divine Nine.”

While Divine Nine organizations aren’t explicitly religious, many in the Black community are Christian, which Williams feels adds to potential stigma for queer or trans hopefuls. “I can only imagine why a lot of people keep their business on the low,” he says. Teen Vogue has reached out to the National Pan-Hellenic Council for comment but has not yet heard back.

But, in Williams’s view, the issue isn’t necessarily an institutional one.

“I know so many people who are what they call ‘down low’ because they're either scared of their parents, their parents are paying for their tuition, or they're scared because they grew up in a heavily religious household,” he says. “I think it's more so a Black community issue that we really do have to address.”

According to the Pew Research Center, Black Americans tend to have slightly more conservative views on sexuality than the larger public does. A 2021 report found that 6 in 10 Black Americans said that homosexuality should be publicly accepted, compared to 7 in 10 of all people.

“I think the attitude toward LGBTQ+ folks ranges from intimate acceptance to complete misunderstanding to downright rejection,” McCune says. “Religious organizations justify bigotry through scripture and interpretation, fraternities and sororities are concerned when individuals visually speak or embody gender or sexual difference aloud. I think many queer people have found themselves either feeling as exiles, or having to choose when and where they wish to navigate these problematic and sometimes violent community rules. Indeed, it is common that young LGBTQ+ folks remain in hiding, or separate themselves from family and friends who attempt to disable their freedoms.”

When attitudes about what type of man should join a fraternity prevent queer and trans students from applying, Cooney said it’s not only upsetting, it could also limit their potential, cutting them off from important connections through these organizations that could boost their future success. In the Journal of Blacks in Higher Education, Hamilton J.B. Raymond wrote, “Giving a young Black man the opportunity to join a Black Greek letter organization offers an invaluable opportunity to enhance their personal growth, build meaningful connections, and contribute positively to both their university and society.” The mentorship programs, leadership training, and network of other professionals offers young Black members a leg up, something that’s particularly important given racial bias in hiring and in the leadership pipeline post-grad.

“It's upsetting because you have gay boys and even trans students who might have thought about pursuing these organizations because they're legacy, or they might have heard of the impact that these organizations can have not only on a person's personal growth in their self realization, but also because of their reach in their community, their network, and service,” Cooney says. “So I honestly think it's pretty sad.”

“ I've seen people who have not been themselves while being in these spaces, and you can see the toll it takes on them."

But, not all queer students feel the same, and the pressures they face aren’t all equal. After spending her younger years struggling with insecurities, Nia Martin, who called Howard a new home, found her niche on what she says is a “very gay” campus. She got involved with Student Government and Cascade, an LGBTQ+ focused organization on campus. There, she spent a lot of time fostering other young queer students entering her university, so she saw first-hand how Black queer students' lived experiences are shaped by their surroundings. When she first came out to her family, Martin says she faced struggles that impacted her ability to afford school. It was her community at Howard that helped her find a scholarship to cover her school costs until her familial relationships recovered.

While reports affirm that Divine Nine organizations have historically been hesitant to support LGBTQ events or issues on campus (something Cooney says he faces when trying to organize Cascade events), Martin says the student population at large at Howard is supportive, or at least indifferent. While the 2018 article in The Nation reported that many HBCUs were making a concerted effort at the time to be more LGBTQ inclusive and accepting, she’s still faced some homophobia on campus. Still, Martin says that there’s a key difference in her experience: she’s a woman.

“It's going to be a little bit different for [cis] women than it is going to be for men, trans people, and non-binary people in general,” she says about joining Greek life as a queer person. “For women, everybody is just like, ‘okay, she's trying this out.’ Nobody was judging. For men, I had a lot of friends who stayed in the closet all the way up until they graduated because they were trying to be Greek, and they wouldn't allow them on line at all, so they had to do everything in secret. I used to sometimes have to hold them while they were crying because they were hiding a huge part of their identity.”

Rachel* who attended Jackson State University and is a member of Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority Incorporated believes that the difference between queer men and women on campus is deeply rooted in the patriarchy. “HBCUs are predominantly Black and masculinity is on full display around your people all the time,” she says. “I'm not speaking for them, but I can imagine, if you're a queer guy in a dormitory and you're sharing a room, possibly with another male who is straight, you may not know where they come from, especially when you're a freshman. And there’s that fear, whereas with women, you're kind of seen as a woman first, and those fears aren't as prevalent or top of mind. At Spectrum (the LGBTQ+ organization at JSU), one of the causes we worked on was with the dorms. Some of the residents I worked with were afraid of being seen as gay first and then male, and that fear can resonate and replicate and cause them to hide.” Teen Vogue reached out to Jackson State University but has not heard back.

Rachel recalls one friend who was out when he joined a fraternity. “I feel like his fraternity was better for it,” Rachel says. “The impact that they were able to make was amazing.” But because the larger HBCU community is so small, she says there’s a hyper-visibility about being at one, something that increases if you’re in Greek life, and increases even more if you’re one of few openly gay people.

“Having that stigma on top of our Greek organizations being held to a higher level of scrutiny on an HBCU campus than that of a non-HBCU campus is intense,” she says. “Your visibility is automatically magnified, whereas when I went to [a state school] for my master's, I did not know any of those students. On HBCU campuses, your visibility increases overnight, your status even increases overnight, and your scrutiny increases overnight.”

Like Martin, Cassidy*, a student at Clark Atlanta University, has found an accepting community at her school. They hail from the Pacific Northwest, where the Black population was small. So, attending CAU and getting to explore the Atlanta University Center Consortium (a collective of four HBCUs) has been a game changer for her identity.

“I feel connected to my Black womanhood when I think of all the Black women that have come before me, the ones that have raised me and the future young Black women that will come after me,” she says. “My she-her pronouns really connect me to my ancestry. My they-them pronouns really connect me to my queerness, and allow me to express myself differently than the gender roles and gender standards for what's expected of me.”

As a queer Black womxn, she’s been teetering between what pronouns she wants to use after being interested in joining the Divine Nine. They have spent time talking to their organization of interest, making sure they’re as inclusive as she needs them to be. She was excited to know how welcoming the sorority she’s interested in was of queer members.

“For sororities it's easier,” Cassidy says. “But for the males it just seems like they’re not budging.”

That progressivity exists in a trickle down system and it starts at the top. Black professors on HBCU campuses are often regarded as a safe space for students. There’s a level of support and care that isn’t often awarded to young Black students anywhere else, particularly when you consider that only about 6% of all college and university faculty are Black. For once, it feels like there are adults who look like them and are constantly also looking out for them. But, that means professors also have a large stake in setting the cultural tone on campus.

Chauna Lawson, former associate director of the Human Rights Campaign’s HBCU Program runs a focus group at Howard University looking at the experiences of LBGTQ+ students. “Our findings was that the biggest bullies LGBTQ students have on campus are more often than not their professors and their administrators. They more often than not pick on people who do not confine to gender norms,” she says. King, the director of Intercultural Affairs and LGBTQ+ Resource Center at Howard, said that if students brought any complaints against professors to the University, they would be properly investigated. “The student is priority,” King said.

Professors, Lawson said, should work to support students at the intersections of their identities.

“It's very important to ensure that you're unpacking a lot of the internalized oppression that we have as a Black community,” she says. “Respectability politics, colorism, misogynoir, fatphobia, all the things. LGBTQ culture is just a huge piece of that, and a lot of those other things kind of mesh into it, like misogynoir. So it's challenging, but then it's not so challenging because you have educated folks who already are able to wrap their minds around these nuanced and complex conversations.”

Curtis Shannon is a graduate of North Carolina A&T, the former Mister NCAT, and a member of Phi Beta Sigma Fraternity, Incorporated. He saw firsthand what it meant to be the first openly queer King at his HBCU and deal with an atmosphere he felt was unready for change.

“I've dealt with one of the most conservative administrations, and being the first openly queer King, it was kind of a controversy,” he says. “People wondered: ‘Is he going to be this flamboyant King? Is he going to be someone that can hold this position and uphold everything it entails, or will he be completely different from what we've been used to?’ I had to go in there with the mindset that I still needed to be myself, that the next person after me should want to come into this position and feel comfortable. I dealt with a lot of rebuttals. I dealt with a lot of negativity surrounding me being bisexual and being open about it.”

In a statement to Teen Vogue, NCAT said the school is affirming and accepting of students of all backgrounds and orientations. “North Carolina A&T student leaders and student organizations are wonderfully diverse and include students with a wide range of backgrounds and characteristics,” a representative for the school said. “We do not exclude any student’s participation in student activities on the basis of race, gender, gender expression or sexual orientation. In fact, we have celebrated same-sex pairings in coronation ceremonies and LGBTQ students on our Royal Court, including students serving as Mr. and Miss A&T.”

The HRC works closely with queer Black students to help them navigate the nuanced and layered experience that is existing on an HBCU campus. More than anything Lawson wants all HBCUs to know that queer rights is a Black liberation movement. “A lot of the narrative around LGBTQ rights is, ‘Oh, that's that white people stuff.’ A lot of the work is just unpacking the miseducation around LGBTQ culture, history, and experiences,” she says. “It’s really showing the powers that be, in the HBCU community, how heavily steeped in white supremacy this is, and how it ultimately hurts our entire community to continue to carry this out.”

“This is a conversation I had with myself before going into Spelman,” Sydney Wilson, a member of Sigma Gamma Rho and Spelman College student, says. “It's much more apparent that there is a gender role that you need to fit into because it is a historically all women's college, and then you're next to Morehouse. So a lot of the conversations are inherently gendered. Questions like, ‘Are you going to marry a Morehouse man,’ this, that and the third. I would definitely recommend to young people navigating the HBCU experience to be themselves. I've seen people who have not been themselves while being in these spaces, and you can see the toll it takes on them, mentally and physically. In the long run, it's very exhausting holding this huge secret inside.”


Originally Appeared on Teen Vogue