By Kilmer Merritt-GaweSPECIAL TO THE CHRONICLE
This past Tuesday, Hofstra hosted the Long Island Blood Drive. Hundreds of people were lining up to donate blood in order to, as the many ads said, “Be a hero. Save a Life.” I could not help but feel proud and angry at the same time.
I am proud to be a member of the Hofstra community; a community that is socially aware and then acts on that awareness. However, I felt angry that I could not donate blood for reasons that are unfounded.
Despite research and new technology, the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) still bans men who have sex with men from donating blood unless he has been abstinent for a year. I have witnessed many blood drives, and had thought I had come to terms with my ineligibility. That was the case until I was repeatedly reminded that I could not “be a hero.”
Tuesdays happen to be one of my busier days, and I find myself traveling through the Student Center many times for one reason or another. On this day, whenever I was there, I just happened to be approached by herds of men and women in white lab coats, armed with fliers and ready to encourage me to participate in the heroic act of donating blood.
Sadly, each time I was approached, I had to decline. I did so by ignoring the advances – which worked, but I felt incredibly rude – or by informing them I was unable. Saying I couldn’t lead to the inevitable question of why, whether it be verbal or in the simple raise of an eyebrow. When I told them, there would be a look of discomfort or laughter. I do not need to tell you how hurtful the latter response can be.
I carried on with my day and the awkward encounters continued. The Blood Drive was coming to a close as I was done with classes.
On my way back to my room, there was still one elderly man petitioning people to donate blood and I made the fateful mistake of making eye contact with him. As I continued to walk to my room, he spouted his rhetoric that I should take the time to be a hero – to donate blood. I should man up, not be a wuss.
After hearing the same speech all day, I was tired, and I imagine the volunteers were equally so – albeit for entirely different reasons. In that moment I wanted to do nothing more than lash out at the man and aggressively inform him of the reason I could not give blood and be a hero. Instead, I walked faster to my room, where I eventually threw myself on the bed and ranted to a friend over text message.
I was not the only one to experience the perceived harassment and ridicule by volunteers. Many students who are queer, international or belonging to any other group that the FDA bans from donating blood, faced the painful moment of being reminded that he or she is different, less than or not capable of “being a hero.”
Giving blood may not seem like much, but it comes to symbolize the greater institution of inequality where people are regularly demeaned for their identity.
I am not saying blood drives are bad. They help save numerous lives, but in the process they can occasionally harm the lives of many. For future blood drives that happen at Hofstra, I ask that they be done with care, and that those who are unable to donate blood be treated as equals to those who can.
The views and opinions expressed in the Op-Ed section are those of the authors of the articles. They are not an endorsement of the views of The Chronicle or its staff. The Chronicle does not discriminate based on the opinions of the authors.