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Marquis Fulghum, Undergraduate, Arizona State University I feel irritated when someone says they’ll “tolerate me.” I experienced a similar feeling trying to define “tolerance” for this essay. When someone says they will tolerate me, it invokes a negative idea or feeling and I’m not thinking this person accepts who I am. Early experiences taught me that if my behavior was being tolerated, there were negative consequences to look forward to ranging from verbal disputes to fist fights. If that word were used it meant that someone was low on patience and I would have to dial back on whatever they disliked or keep going and suffer the consequences. I also learned that my tolerance would not be rewarded the way I’d like. When I enlisted in the Marines, I convinced myself that it would be an escape from the prejudice of the outside world, and I’d find satisfaction in my service with like-minded people. It goes without saying that there were good people I bonded with, but overall, it was dissatisfying. Nothing went the way I thought it would. My peers expected me to be the quintessential Black male who played sports and was chronically angry, so I made it my business to break Black stigmas. I learned to swim, shoot, and speak properly. I avoided chicken and purple drinks, never touched watermelon, and, hell, I even stopped swearing for a few months. Near the end of my enlistment, I learned that none of it mattered and my identity was lost. I’d tolerated the ignorant rhetoric hoping people would see me as an individual, and not part of a monolith. My idea to change their minds backfired and I spent a year angry at myself. I compromised my identity by depriving myself of things I used to enjoy and changing mannerisms that were unique to me. What’s worse is that I alienated myself from the Black community. I couldn’t bond with them over the food, jokes, activities, or conversations because I forgot how to be genuine. The world I tried to convince rejected me, and I was unfamiliar to the people I called my own. There are two types of tolerances in America. One involves putting up with something or someone and the other waiting patiently for different results. African Americans have been waiting for the end of systemic racism and for our fellow Americans to treat us the way they’d like to be treated. Our predecessors preached patience, but it is not a requirement for fair treatment. Therefore, the word tolerate irritates me. While someone tolerates my existence, I’m waiting to be seen as an equal and to be treated accordingly. James Baldwin asked White America how much time they needed to progress to equality and his statement encapsulates my frustration. It’s been difficult for me to watch Black people murdered in broad daylight and justice prolonged while their relatives and friends mourn. Yes, there are two different tolerances in America. After examining my experiences, the past, and recent racial tension in America, I know tolerance is not the answer. Instead, asking questions like, “am I acceptant, kind, and empathetic,” are beneficial if we’re serious about bridging the divide.

Shiloh Bentacourt, Graduate, Arizona State University Tolerance is the story of getting my mother back. We had not talked in a few years after we had “the” talk. It was the talk where I told her that our Christian faith was homophobic and that I was transgender. The truth is I did not know what transgender was, nor did my mother. But I did know that the word was more in line with how disconnected I felt from my body—with the disconnect between the boy I saw in the mirror and the girl I felt inside. During the years of not talking to my mother, I was harassed out of work and out of house rentals, trained many hours with the Relational Center, and had long conversations with my medical doctor. I realized my own misconceptions of being transgender. When I did, I was able to appreciate my mother’s concerns with me being transgender. We reconnected. By the end of many hours of catching up, we both had a greater understanding of each other. I learned that I was wrong about my mother; her faith kept her alive while she was in ICE custody. I saw the fear for my safety in her face and heard her love for me when she cleared her throat a few times. The humanity in her silent tears were so alive and loud that it made it possible for me to see her, to see her care and love for me. Exchanging our fears and concerns through story telling humanized the positions we each took. It was only then that my mother and I were able to reestablish a relationship and triumph our differences. She remains committed to her Christian beliefs. I remain committed to living a full life as a Latina transgender woman, while still being able to be a daughter to my mother and practice my Christian faith. The Relation Center is a non-profit organization in Los Angeles focused on developing tools that help people relate to each other through café-styled trainings. The trainings enabled me to meet and learn from groups of people, both personally and professionally, that I would otherwise fear to meet. This was possible because the trainings taught me how to use radical inclusion and empathetic listening as tools to cultivate relationships and tolerance. In short, tolerance is self-awareness. It is being respectful enough to realize you do not know everything, being willing to respect what you do not know, but curious enough to ask. It means listening with an empathetic ear. It is realizing that when people belittle your views or existence, they are simply unaware and unsure. In times when diversity is “canceled,” the humanity in our stories and platforms where we can share that humanity become even more invaluable to maintain a tolerant democracy. Our humanity is what keeps citizens together and the fabric of democracy intact. I invite people to share their stories and to hear the sound of divergent stories, views with empathy. We may just be inspired.

Laura Lynch, Undergraduate, TMD Wayne State From the moment I walked into my cushy kindergarten classroom, I gained fundamental insight into the meaning and practice of tolerance. Looking up at the brightly colored walls, among posters chalk-full of forgettable, sing-songy phrases about manners, I was first introduced to “The Golden Rule”. Though the name suggests something highly-esteemed, the notion of “treating others how others as you wish to be treated” is something seemingly forgotten by the time we learn and soon after employ our first vulgar words. In fact, Americans today live in a society that’s educational system creates and instills a worldview that sets us up for intolerance. Just as we learn tolerance through schooling, we learn intolerance. Tolerance, the practice of treating others how you wish to be treated despite their differences, requires an individual to give everyone’s views the same respect as your own. The choice to act with respect and patient understanding opens the door to a diversity of dialogue that ultimately strengthens our society as a whole and cultivates the potential for love. Yet, Americans aren’t taught that as we move up the ranks in our schooling. In fact, the way we’re taught history almost always vices us into looking at situations in terms of “us” and “them”, with ourselves taking the position of moral superiority. An example of this pattern lies in how Americans are taught history. We spend many years learning about what the US did, why the US did it, our prosperity, and moral goodness. Little to no time is allocated to learning about others and their value, which has the latent effect of teaching us that there’s no need to inquire about the rest of the world and its functioning because we already have the best answers here. This understanding can easily be carried into social issues within the United States as well, when families and communities teach children that hatred toward and the isolation of individuals that are different is acceptable because they’re somehow inferior. Change on a societal scale in America requires a reformation of the educational system that’s based on a recognition of our inherent connection to one another as humans, teaches the merits of diversity by fostering an acceptance of differences in race, sexual-orientation, religion, and perspective, and encourages inquiry and mutual understanding. This is no meager task, but I believe the first step toward such reform can start with individuals. Many of us have understood that acting with tolerance has been an individual choice since our first days of kindergarten, but we must renew our commitment to this despite the ease of slipping into clutches of hate. By taking a few steps back, or even going a few years back in our education, we can foster a new understanding of the world around us. With this intentional decision and an investment in the practice of tolerance, we can melt barriers and open the door to a more peaceful and mutually-beneficial society forged on the commitment to respect and equality.

Ben VanBarr, Graduate, TMD Wayne State Seeing someone live a life that is radically different from yours can be scary. What if they push back against your way of life? What if theirs becomes more common and yours fades into the outlier? What if they know something you don’t? Thoughts like these can lead to intolerance. It takes courage to see their differences, acknowledge those fears, and choose to coexist. Harder still is working to advocate for tolerance. It seems almost contradictory; by pushing others to be more tolerant, aren’t we being intolerant of their intolerance? I do not believe this is equivalent, but it does lead to problems. Holding up tolerance as a virtue is a good thing, and spreading it where we can is too. We believe that killing is wrong, but tolerance does not require us to refrain from condemning murder; tolerance does not require us to be that tolerant of murderers. Likewise, tolerance does not require us to tolerate intolerance. Indeed, I would argue that working to oppose intolerance is necessary. Like building a tolerance to an allergy, if we tolerate intolerance we will only tolerate more and more of it, leading to less and less tolerance in the world. The tricky part is drawing the boundaries around intolerance itself, rather than around viewpoints that we associate with intolerance. I have been guilty of making this mistake. As a teenager, I was aggressively atheist. I believed that religion was not only false, but morally repugnant as an institution. By and large, I assumed that all religious people were intolerant in ways that led to wars, discrimination, and similar evils. I failed to recognize that by ascribing these views to religion at large, I was guilty of the same. In the time since, I have acknowledged the weaknesses of my own views, recognized some of the positivity religion can create, and come to terms with the fact that religious people are not the problem – intolerant people are. Looking at a group that appears to be frequently intolerant, it is easy to label the entire group unworthy of tolerance. Certainly, some groups may be intolerant by definition – the Nazi party and religious extremist groups explicitly claim intolerance as part of their identity. In those cases, maybe there is an exception. But in general, the dividing lines our society looks to – religion, race, citizenship, etc. – are not as divisive as we make them out to be. While many people of faith are intolerant toward the LGBTQ+ community, many others are loving and accepting. While many people harbor hostility toward races other than their own, many others cherish diversity and varied cultures. While many people resent non-citizens, many others empathize with their struggles wish them success. Tolerance means having the courage to live alongside someone different from you. The more you tolerate something, the more your tolerance of it grows. We can choose; either develop a tolerance for differences or develop a tolerance for intolerance. I choose the former, and I hope you will too.

Alexis Watson, Undergraduate, TMD BYU Growing up in Utah, I heard story after story about pioneers who bravely headed out West in search of religious freedom. These pioneers left most everything behind to cross the plains in search of something better for themselves and their families. When they arrived in Utah, the settlers were welcomed by nothing more than desert pocketed with Native Americans. Yet, from this harsh environment they created a thriving and prosperous community. Today, many Utahns pride themselves on being descendants of such pioneers, and rightly so; those pioneers were an impressive people. Yet today, Utah is also known as a place that is relatively intolerant of LGBTQ individuals due to traditional cultural beliefs (of course, there are many individuals who defy this gross generalization). Regardless, it seems surprising that a people with ancestors who themselves sought tolerance would be intolerant of others seeking the same thing. Church leaders in Utah encourage members to be pioneers in doing what’s right. But what is right? Certainly, doing right is, at the very least, being tolerant of those who do not believe the same things. However, being tolerant can be difficult in a community where homosexual behavior is in direct contrast with what the majority regard as a righteous way of living. Many are intolerant because they believe that tolerance means agreement. But tolerance is neither agreement nor acceptance of ideas; it is acceptance of people as they are. Tolerance, like crossing the plains, is only the first part of the journey. After we open up a dialogue, we might be in a new and uncomfortable land filled with hard conversations, confusion, and even tears. This is expected. But like pioneers, we can create something wonderful and life-giving from what was once a desert. Tolerance allows us to create a place of faith where people of all backgrounds and orientations feel comfortable sharing a church pew on Sunday. When faced with someone who lives differently than us, the easier thing to do would be to talk about the weather… or the time of day… or anything at all that isn’t of importance. But that isn’t true dialogue, it isn’t what a pioneer would do, and it isn’t going to change things for the better. When our initial reaction is to shrink back and defend, try instead to lean into those abrasive desert winds and understand with an eye of faith. Afterall, how can we call ourselves pioneers if we aren’t willing to do the brave thing? If our ancestors could cross the plains, then why can’t we cross our own personal “plains” of intolerance and misunderstanding? Being tolerant, we might just find ourselves in a place that John Wayne described as, “out where the skies are a trifle bluer, out where friendship’s a little truer, that’s where the West begins.” Tolerance is not becoming something new; it is going back to what we once were: pioneers.

Cicily Bennion, Graduate, TMD BYU As a straight, white woman in middle-class America, I’ve never had to ask for tolerance on my own behalf. I’m tolerated, sure. My mother tolerated my messiness. Later, my college roommates tolerated my sometimes-questionable music taste. Now, my husband tolerates my bad cooking. But when it comes to who I am, my very core identity¬¬¬––my gender, my race, my faith, my sexual orientation––society has already granted me tolerance. Instead of asking for tolerance, I’m allowed to demand acceptance, respect, and sometimes even love. This is, I think what it means to be privileged. Call me sheltered, but I haven’t always been able to say that I personally know someone who is openly a member of the LGBTQ+ community. Growing up in a small, religious town, I often heard people argue that legalizing gay marriage was a threat to my religious beliefs, that it might diminish the sanctity of the institution. I wasn’t sure quite how to feel about this. Then one day, when I was a sophomore in college, I spent an afternoon at the park and there, playing with their young son, were two dads. Watching them dote on their little boy, I was struck by the beauty of their family, the way they each radiated love and joy. I knew then that their love never was and never could be a diminishing force in society. That day, I decided I wanted to be an ally. As a Christian, I take seriously the command to love God and love my neighbor. Too often, I think, we make the mistake of imagining that loving is easy. The poet Rilke wrote, “To love is hard. When someone bids you to love, they are laying a great task upon you… They are calling your attention to what’s hard for you, what is neediest in you and at the same time most fruitful.” I wonder if Christ called loving the first and great commandment not just because it is the most important but because love is a great burden to bear. In comparison, tolerance is easy. Tolerance can be done from a distance. It is a sort of “live and let live” mentality. To tolerate something is to look past it. But Christ did not ask us to tolerate each other. He asked us to love each other, which is a task that requires closeness and intimacy and vulnerability. To love someone, you cannot look past them. The people we as Christians mean to tolerate are the people who most need our love. Tolerance is a good first step, but we’re mistaken if we think it’s the end of our responsibility. Tolerance means that you’ve taken the first step towards loving someone different from you.

Emma Baehrens, Undergraduate, TMD CWRU What is Tolerance to Me? Tolerance is a risk. It takes bravery, on some level, to be tolerant. The word itself can be applied to many different situations. One may build a tolerance to substances. One may be tolerant of an unfortunate situation they are in. I think the type of tolerance I am trying to make sense of is bigger that that. It is acceptance. Someone who is tolerant is brave enough to trust that the world, and the people in it can be good. I didn’t come out to my father until I was twenty years old. I was terrified of what he might say. He was born and raised in Mansfield, Ohio by a war veteran and a woman who grew up on a cotton plantation. In my psychiatrist’s office, when I finally choked out that I was gay, he stood up and hugged me. I learned something about him that day. Even though my father didn’t quite understand the struggle happening in me, and I hadn’t completely come to terms with my sexuality, he told me that he accepted what I told him. He told me that he loved me even more for sharing something so personal with him. I am so fortunate that my father is brave enough to believe that what I am is not dangerous or destructive to how he lives. When I see or read about a conservative person that supports LGBTQ people, there is an odd discomfort I feel. My entire life, I have seen such a divide between conservative and liberal values. It’s presented in media, and is taught in schools. There are many liberal people that I know who would spit at someone who admitted their conservative view points. I used to think like that as well. It’s not the fault of the individual. It is the way we were raised, and the media we have consumed since birth. It is faux tolerance. I thought that I was tolerant because I was accepting of liberal beliefs, but I still frowned upon conservative values without trying to understand why people held these beliefs. I had never tried to understand both sides of the war between religious freedom and LGBTQ rights. Now, the new conversation is how the two parties can coexist. In the short amount of time I have been alive, there have been so many changes in the US for the rights of the LGBTQ community. Kids like me are lucky enough to come out to their parents without fear of persecution. In a perfect world, tolerance would go both ways. It seems no one can ever be on the same page. I get so sad sometimes when I think about how much hate exists because of fear. Maybe, one by one, through conversation, we will be able to accept one another and be at peace. Maybe we can be brave and try to understand people who are different from ourselves.

Kyle Jorstad, Graduate, TMD CWRU “Tolerance” is a phrase often bandied about in cavalier response to conflicting values, as if simply demanding silent acceptance will make everyone happy. Yet for a society that eulogizes fairness and opportunity, the war on differing values carried out in our nation tells a very different story: one of fundamental misunderstanding of what tolerance truly requires. As a gay individual from a strongly Roman Catholic family, I have experienced this conflict of values and lack of dialogue on an almost daily basis. Objectors to homosexuality often lack the life experiences to empathize, or even sympathize, with gay individuals, and therefore simply presume themselves to be right. On the other side, the gay community, caught up in the fight against discrimination in search of equal treatment before the law, often neglects to learn the basis for the opposition they face from segments of society such as the church, and subsequently also fail to try to engage them in dialogue. This is simply one example within a society that understands the definition, but not the purpose, of tolerance. Many of us understand tolerance as “the capacity to endure without adverse reaction.” And, strictly speaking, that’s not inaccurate. But we fail in our efforts at tolerance when we make it the end, rather than the means, for societal progress. Think of it this way: when you did something to your sibling as a kid and your parents forced you to apologize, did simply saying “sorry” give your apology meaning? Of course not; the point of apologizing is an outward expression of internal regret. Your parents sought to teach more than just words; they sought to teach genuine emotion. The purpose of tolerance is not to maintain our society in a perpetual ‘feuding family’s Thanksgiving dinner’ situation where everyone knows there’s disagreement at the table, but nobody is willing to address it. Similar to the practice of affirmative action adopted in the 1960s, tolerance is the first step in correcting a fundamental flaw within our society. Before there can be dialogue, there must be the capacity to engage in civil conversation. But tolerance doesn’t stop at having that conversation. It entails actively engaging ourselves in the endeavor to reach a common understanding. This understanding does not require us to agree on everything. It does not entail adopting the religious, political, societal, or ethical values of individuals we might disagree with on some fundamental level. What it does require is moving past merely recognizing the existence of opposing viewpoints towards a fuller understanding of what that viewpoint is, why it is held, and how we might be able to compromise. Unfortunately, America’s current political climate strongly endorses a false dichotomy where we are encouraged to believe there are only two options to choose from, and too many of my generation have fallen into the camp ignorant of the potential for a middle ground. Only by actively advocating for tolerance by example can this hostility be properly addressed. So instead of telling your ideological opponent why they’re wrong, ask them why they’re right – you might be surprised.

Shannon McNamara, Undergraduate, TMD Alabama I grew up in a small sleepy town in North Carolina. From the time I was about four years old, I was already very confused. I attended a tiny Presbyterian pre-school, directly attached to the church. My teachers were nurturing, attentive, and beyond patient. But I couldn’t help wonder why I could be sent to time out for kissing a boy, and not a girl. How was it different? I’d never receive a straightforward answer. And I was confused when I told my 2nd grade teacher at Catholic school that I wanted to marry my best friend, a girl, because what I got in response was a nervous chuckle and quick subject change. These seem harmless. And there was probably no ill will intended. But have you ever seen a little snowball race down a hill, becoming bigger and bigger? By the time I was in high school, breaking news detailed a nun’s speech that was given to a large Catholic high school in my area. She told the students why same sex attraction was not normal or natural, and pointed an accusing finger at negligent parents and excessive viewing of pornography as the real gateway drugs to homosexuality and all related impure thoughts. I used to see “We are ALL God’s Children!” bumper stickers and snicker to myself because it sounded so juvenile, like something that would have been painted on my old preschool’s walls. But it appears that even such a simple statement is still very hard to comprehend for some educated adults. It may be uncomfortable for some to talk about, and others will say it doesn’t affect them so it’s none of their business, they’ll sit this one out. It is not enough to sit idly by and silently nod. It’s 2018 and we are past that. Parents should cry when a son or daughter comes out to them. Tears of joy should roll down their faces, because their child somehow managed to find the courage to become a potential target in the face of an outdated but ever present adversity. If you do not identify on the LGBTQ spectrum, be an advocate and a voice! Neither party has to be demonized if one would only control their bubbling passion or anger. Just breathe, and speak slowly. “Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you” Matthew 7:1-2. There is a serious problem when the measure you use is hate. I believe that is something most rational minded beings can agree on, regardless of one’s religious background, political party, or sexual identification. Replace hate with love, compassion, ambition for progress and peace. Now begin the conversation.

Crystal Smitherman, Graduate, TMD Alabama When I signed up for the SafeZone training, I was just doing it because my law school best friend dragged me along and they were feeding us lunch. I sat thinking, “Everyone knows how to treat the LGBTQ+ community with respect and we only know how to tolerate their lifestyle.” Well, I was wrong. I learned how my bias and stereotypes about transgenders may not have physically hurt anyone, but it did distort my view of the community. I just thought tolerance meant even though I do not agree with you, I just let you do what you want and not say anything to you. Yet, after I went through that SafeZone training, the word tolerance means so much more to me. I am black. I am a female. Since I am a black female, I am always asking for me to be tolerant of my race and gender. Now, I was being asked to be tolerant of another minority group, where a lot of people do not agree with their lifestyle and choose to retaliate against this group because of who they are. That is not tolerance but the destruction of the societal balance and what makes America so promising to so many groups of people over the past centuries. Tolerance means accepting people for who they are and what they believe in and trying to understand their identity and beliefs. Tolerance is about not allowing others to make someone feel bad, because of their gender, race, clothing, religion or sexual orientation. It is truly acknowledging and practicing the golden rule we are taught as children that “we should treat people the way we want to be treated.” After going to the SafeZone training, I made a promise to myself to always be a lending ear for any person I knew that was a member of the LGBTQ+ community. I put myself into the transgender students’ shoes and imagined how it would feel if I could not go to the restroom all day or making myself dehydrated in fear of what would happen to be if I used the restroom at school. I realized that the privilege I had as a heterosexual was something that still has not been extended to members of this community. After being training to be a counselor to students of the LGBTQ+ community, I wanted to educate my family and friends on what the LGBTQ+ community was about and how we could be more sympathetic and helpful to young people that identify with this community. As a minority, I can empathize with them. As a heterosexual, I can help other heterosexuals treat the LBGTQ+ community like normal people and be understanding towards their feelings, beliefs, and thoughts. Everyone has something unique about them, which makes all of us a piece of the puzzle that creates America. So, what is tolerance? Tolerance is the appreciation of every diverse person and the ability to live my life normally, while letting others live their own lives normally.

Blake Gibney, Graduate, TMD UIUC “I’ll regret it the rest of my life if I don’t do something to get you to change.” This was my father’s plea urging me to go to gay conversion therapy. I was twenty-two years old when my father told me this but he still treated me like a child, trying to “correct” my “immoral” behavior just like when I was growing up. I remember my grandmother incessantly lecturing me about how I needed to make friends with boys rather than just girls. I remember my father harassing me about the types of toys with which I enjoyed playing. My thirteen-year stint in Catholic schools only served my family’s campaign to force me into the “proper” mold. Any hope that others understood what I was going through seemed far from reality. I even remember a theology teacher comparing homosexuality to bestiality. These are just a few of the litany of memories that I struggle to forget. I am flooded with many emotions when these memories inevitably pop up in my thoughts. I feel inferior. I feel shame. I feel pain. Among all my emotions, tolerance for those who have caused me this pain is not one that tops the list. On the contrary, I often have wanted to inflict my pain onto those who have made me feel this way. In the moment it feels empowering to disparage those in the religious community who have caused this pain. But this feeling is fleeting. I have quickly realized that causing this pain to others does very little—it does not change any of my past experiences, it does not change my family’s view on homosexuality, and it does not make views on LGBTQ rights any less polarized. While tolerance sounds commendable in the abstract, as a gay man I am often left questioning: “how tolerant do I have to be?” and “do I have to sacrifice my identity to be tolerant?” My concern rests squarely on how I should interact with individuals who have caused me so much pain. In answering these questions, I think it is important to first consider what tolerance does not require me to do. Tolerance does not require that I deny the pain that those in the religious community have caused me. Tolerance does not require that I change my identity to fit into a “proper” mold. Tolerance does not require that I agree with the beliefs held by the religious community. My core values and identity do not have to be sacrificed to be tolerant. But, tolerance does require me to accept the reality that other people have different core values. Tolerance does require me to accept that I cannot change the hearts and beliefs of every person. Acceptance is difficult but it is the best way to propel meaningful dialogue. The adage an eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind seems fitting. Better put in this context: more and more infliction of pain leaves the whole world polarized.

Elizabeth Kazmierczak, Undergraduate, TMD UIUC I am a closeted bisexual woman. I chose to be because it’s easy; easy for society to accept. I’m scared to be judged and discriminated against. I know I should be brave and not ashamed of who I am but tolerance among people that are “different” isn’t something our society is very good at. I was a very different person in high school. I was in my school’s Republican Club, went to Pro-Life marches, only sought friendship with people who looked and did the same things as me and was homophobic. I guess the joke is on me because now I am a Democratic, Pro-Choice, bi-sexual woman. Not to say these things changed overnight, but during that time in my life I was in an environment that was not tolerant. I didn’t have outside perspectives being shared with me, and when I did, I didn’t give them the time of day because I believed I was right and they were wrong. I was ignorant, and I feel guilty for being intolerant. I don’t have all the answers. My faith may tell me that I live in sin, but it also tells me that we are all sinners; God welcomes and loves us all. Tolerance, for me, is full-heartedly believing that above all else, we are humans and God loves us. The lines in the Bible that are twisted to discriminate are taken out of context and used for hate. I am tolerant not because I understand everyone’s struggles, pain, and perspective, but because I believe that everyone is valid for having them. In every ecosystem in the world, diversity is valued and necessary for the survival of all organisms in the environment, a more diverse population has a stronger fitness. There’s one exception to that rule and that's with human society. We think diversity makes us weaker. Again, I don’t have all the answers, but talking is a great way to start. I’m not going to get my church to fly the rainbow flag anytime soon but talking to the people in my faith about being part of the LGBT community can foster some kind of dialogue. Maybe they’ll discover we have more in common than they thought—like I did coming to college. Strip away the ignorance, allow yourself to be uncomfortable, and accept that things aren’t as simple as they might seem. Tolerance is the first step, then comes acceptance. Sure, I would love everyone to tolerate me, but more than anything I want people to accept me for who I am. I don’t want to have to feel that the closet is the best place to be; I don’t want anyone else to feel that way either! Let’s all try today, and each day; try not to make a judgment about someone the first time you see them or meet them. Embracing that diversity makes us all stronger—and God loves us all. Changing tolerance won’t happen overnight, but it can happen the second you open your heart.