Are Straight People Ruining Splash?
the Reveille opinion column, uncensored
I wrote this article draft as a quick, non-serious addition to my weekly opinion column in the Reveille newspaper at Louisiana State University. My section editor thought it was a hilarious idea, my LGBT beta readers approved, and we were all excited to put it in the morning print — when our superiors at the newspaper quashed the project. I couldn’t really do anything about it.
They don’t get a say in what I put on my own blog, though. :P
“All across campus, people are saying the same thing. It was a joke at first, maybe, until each retelling rang more and more true. Hungover students in sweats groan about it in the back of your 8am lecture. Sorority members recite it to their sisters in preparation for their Friday night out. First you laugh, then you grimace, until, by the hundredth time you can only accept it as tragic fact: “Straight people are ruining Splash.”
Splash, for those unaware, is a popular gay bar and nightclub a short trip from LSU’s campus down Highland Road. Since pandemic restrictions began to fall last year, many of my friends and fellow students have visited the place to dance, mingle or attend a drag show. The club itself aims to provide a safe environment and a hub for partygoers in the LGBT community, like many other bars and spaces of its kind across the United States.
The Splash building’s proximity to campus, its themed event calendar and its chic interior makes it more than “just another dive,” – on a particularly lively night, the line at the front doors commonly wraps around and down the block. This popularity has integrated Splash into common culture among our undergraduate Tigers. It’s also made the environment at the nightclub dynamic. Eyewitness testimony from peers throughout our student body point at a trending growth in Splash’s straight attendees. In short, people view it as a hotspot for all sexualities and genders.
Is this true? If so, is it a good thing? A bad thing? Does it even matter? Many might not care one way or another. Other voices I’ve heard around me have begged the question. Are straight people really ruining LSU’s flagship gay bar? I decided to visit the place on a bustling Saturday night to develop an informed opinion.
Over the course of five hours and twenty interviews with almost thirty interviewees, I received a wealth of distinct opinions, stories, and perspectives on the subject. One thing was quite clear, however. More than half of the people I interviewed corroborated the anecdotal suspicions of a swelling presence of straight people visiting the club.
In the words of Erin, a bisexual woman I interviewed,
“Splash is almost more straight than it is gay, at this point.”
I also didn’t wait long before sighting one of the straights in question myself. Devin, a shirtless heterosexual man grooving in the line at the complimentary water coolers, happily explained his reasons for attending a gay bar,
“I feel like Splash has the best environment. The lights are the best, the stage is the best, the music they play is the best,”
Christie, a straight woman I met later on, had slightly different motivations for visiting:
“I don’t have to worry about drunk frat guys groping me all the time. It's just a different vibe. I don’t have to worry about walking out of the bar by myself and sitting and talking. I feel safer.”
Many other women, whether LGBT or not, shared opinions similar to Christie's. The safety they observed and valued, however, was unfortunately not considered universal.
Kali, an asexual woman, told me of an encounter she had with one of her friends.
“During one of the first times we came, a guy would not leave her alone while dancing with her. Someone had to pull her away and be like ‘no she's with me.’”
Her story was far from the only anecdote of harassment or discomfort I received that night. Hearing about such encounters is always heartbreaking. It also led me to another question, one I believed to be the most important to ask. How do members of the LGBT community, for whom the nightclub exists, feel about the increasing numbers of straight people visiting their space?
Brandon, a gay man, said,
“I wouldn't say it's been a negative experience, but I do think there is a level of discomfort…traditionally [Splash] has been more of a safe space. Not saying that it's not anymore but I am on a different type of alertness than I used to be.” Later, he added,
“If they’re coming out of allyship it could be a very positive thing. But I think it begs the question: if we’re inviting people into a safe space who have not always made us feel safe, does it bring a level of discomfort where people start to pull back a little bit? I don’t know.”
Alison, a bisexual woman, said,
“I don’t really mind it, as long as they're with someone in the community. But if straight guys are coming here just to come here because they know that bisexuals hang out here it kinda makes me uncomfortable.”
London, another bisexual woman, said,
“I have no problem with it as long as they’re respectful about it. If it becomes a situation where someone’s being disrespectful, or if they’re causing a scene or being too touchy-feely, then it's a huge issue.”
Taylor, a lesbian woman, said,
“As long as they keep the negativity and the closed mind at the door, I’m cool with it. Actually, I would rather have that.”
The thoughts shared with me by the LGBT individuals I interviewed that night were invaluable. Everyone I spoke to was delighted at the club’s inclusivity and happy to see straight allies coming to join the party. Still, they consistently noted the change in atmosphere and safety dynamics that warrant consideration by anyone looking to get in on the fun.
In that spirit, heterosexual individuals looking to visit should carefully consider the space they are about to enter. This goes double for straight men. Splash exists as a judgment-free zone, built to safeguard a community from the slurs, abuse and discrimination they risk every day in the United States. So long as allies pay the location and its attendees the respect they deserve, the LGBT community there have relatively open arms. However, if you’re a straight man going alone to hit on women or “turn someone straight,” you should probably just stay at home.”