Celebration began as a student response to a hateful incident on campus in the ’90s in which the Wilson House steps were chalked with homophobic remarks for everyone to see. Decades later, Celebration 2021 contained campy dances to Britney Spears with interludes of Macklemore remixes and spoken-word poetry: there was a sense of pride not only in the queerness itself, but also in the fun of belonging to a queer community. The glitter, the glamour, the get-ups: students embraced this as a means of creating more fun, more of that contagious joy which spread through the entirety of the quad. Celebration uses fun as a sort of liberation but what’s more, we’re drifting from the clandestine into the shameless.
This isn’t the prim and proper women’s school that Barbara Bush and Nancy Reagan attended; it’s a place where expectations of refinement and propriety are rejected outright. This flagrant display of pride is an essential part of our culture and I believe that we should cherish this change and become only more flamboyant.
How we display queerness on campus is more than just body glitter and shallow spectacle. There’s real value in our continued and shameless pride, as much as in the more subtle, somber moments shared by our queer community.
Because what happens when we leave this little haven? The impulse toward subtlety may creep back, until queerness is a secret once more, only expressed behind closed doors. Even if it goes unnoticed. Events like Celebration represent an exhibition which, for some students, is impossible outside of Northampton. Not every city has a rainbow crosswalk.
That’s why these big, showy events are essential. Because they’re fun: really fun. And there’s something to be said for that sort of joy. The humorous and the often ridiculous displays like Celebration demonstrate our resilience. It is one thing to hold joy; it is another to hold so much that you can make room for laughter. So much of life is somber and the silly often eludes us. When we reach it, we hold it in less importance. That’s why there’s often a false distinction between serious art and humorous art like soapy shows and sitcoms. But in devaluing fun strictly because it is fun, it loses its power.
The beauty of events like Celebration isn’t that they combat hate in some tragically moving way; it’s the ridiculousness of it, just the ability to be able to enjoy oneself authentically. The vigil reminds us why we hold this event, but the bliss of the dancing and the music reminds us of how we can redefine queerness. It is not always kept behind closed doors, not always clouded by fear, nor is it always a Romeo-and-Juliet-esque entanglement worthy of the screens. Our continued move toward the flamboyant is representative of a community rejecting the notion that queerness is only acceptable when it is quiet.
