Gray Bunting ’26 is a Public Policy major and Gender, Sexuality & Women’s Studies minor. They are a disabled, queer individual that has been active on campus in regards to advocacy and inclusion. His current hyperfixation is the Six of Crows duology, and he highly recommends the series! Contact them at mgbunting@wm.edu.
Sage Futrell ’26 is an Anthropology major and a Biology minor. They are a neuroqueer individual who is involved in multiple student organizations that advocate for inclusion and awareness. Their current hyperfixation is angleology, the study of angles and scripture! Contact them at scfutrell@wm.edu.
The views expressed in this article are the authors’ own.
This article contains discussions of sexual content, specifically kinks and BDSM.
“Who Comes Here, Belongs Here” is a saying that the College of William and Mary prides itself on. Multicultural student organizations carry the weight of making this statement ring true. Run by committed students who are driven to create spaces for diversity and inclusion, these organizations have been safe havens for many. In this opinion piece, we respond to the inflammatory piece ‘W&M Pride: Inclusion for who?’ and argue that the ideas presented are improperly constructed. As queer, disabled, executive members of multiple student organizations, we have experience with crafting safe spaces and managing the difficult realities that come along with doing so. And, as queer disability scholars, we have extensive knowledge of the history surrounding the creation and maintenance of inclusive queer spaces. Conversations around inclusion and accessibility in these spaces are imperative — we need to bring these conversations to the table in a way that unites our communities rather than dividing them. Ryan Flanagan’s ’27 article does the latter, which is why we are so inclined to respond and set the record straight.
As individuals with knowledge of the inner workings of the W&M Pride Committee, we push back on Flanagan’s assertion that the Pride Committee, and other queer-adjacent organizations, are not inclusive to neurodivergent folks. The argument that Pride Committee and other queer organizations have been spaces of neurodivergent exclusion relies heavily on anecdotal evidence from the author’s personal experience, and it does not acknowledge the opportunities given to them by the members of those organizations. Events that were recommended by Flanagan, particularly related to intersex awareness, were scheduled on the Pride Committee calendar, but fell flat because Flanagan failed to contribute to the planning and execution. We also note that other neurodivergent individuals have had positive experiences in these communities and expressed gratitude for these spaces being accessible to them. The less rigorously planned format of the Pride Committee provided a relaxed outlet to brainstorm ideas without judgment. Many committee members identify with neurodiversity, complicating Flanagan’s argument that this group was systematically excluding them based on their neurodivergence. Alongside this, Flanagan did not express their grievances to the group professionally or productively; if they had, the group would have been receptive.
On their next point, the call for more admin oversight of registered student organizations is a double-edged sword that the author does not fully address. In many contexts, university administration has historically been the force that sanitizes or suppresses queer radicalism. For example, Yeshiva University weaponized its religious policies to restrict the congregation of its campus’s Pride Alliance. Flanagan suggests that more standardized oversight would prevent “sidelining vulnerable communities,” but we have seen in recent years how increased administrative power has led to the disproportionate censorship of queer organizations, especially those led by BIPOC. An example of this is the W&M Queer/Trans People of Color organization not being invited to Queer Prom. Like Flanagan, we are white queer individuals who have not been personally affected by racialized restrictions of our student organizations. However, we understand that the same systems that censor queer people of color will surely come for us as well. In politically turbulent times like these, when the rights of marginalized students are being threatened on a federal level, queer folks need togetherness, not inflammatory statements aimed at dividing the community. Seeking administrative intervention to solve internal community disputes, instead of finding common ground on an interpersonal level, could lead to a loss of the very autonomy that allows queer organizations to exist.
Finally, the elephant (or rather, dog) in the room: Flanagan critiques the negative responses to their expression of kink in organization events, specifically citing a private Lambda Alliance Discord discussion where members criticized their kinky “puppy play” gear at a fall 2025 showing of the Satanic Mechanics’ “The Rocky Horror Picture Show.” The author argues the members involved are “mis[using] consent language” in a form of internal policing that mirrors the respectability politics of the 1950s with the Mattachine Society. As defined by Matchett and Berkowitz in their work, “Play, Performativity, and the Production of a Pup Identity in the United States,” “puppy play” is a “socio-sexual activity” in which one individual takes on the role of an “owner” and the other, a “puppy.” While no sexual penetration occurred at the “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” showing, an inherently sexual scene was enacted at an event that, while raunchy, had no students engaging in sexual foreplay or kinks in the same manner as Flanagan, who was not fully clothed. Students did not attend the Satanic Mechanic’s 2025 showing of the “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” with the intention of witnessing two individuals engaging in puppy play. They attended the showing to see a student-sanctioned production. Students merely grabbing dinner, who did not have awareness of the show, were also subjected to the same display. Students were, therefore, not able to engage ethically with Flanagan’s display of kink. Consent inherently relies on being fully informed of what one is consenting to; that is to say, they understand fully what will be occurring. In the case of the showing of “Rocky Horror,” individuals had no prior knowledge of Flanagan arriving in minimal, tight clothing and enacting a BDSM scene.
On an administrative level, they are also ignoring the guidelines that Satanic Mechanics and Drag & Drop have implemented regarding attendees’ attire, which contradicts their earlier point advocating for stricter oversight. For instance, according to Drag & Drop’s updated Code of Conduct, the presentation of explicit kink performances and nipples is prohibited. These guidelines are ones that Flanagan took issue with shortly before exiting the conversation in an untimely manner. This is true of all RSOs: If you show up to an event, it is your responsibility to abide by the rules of the hosting organization. And if their rules raise concern, it is your responsibility to follow through with suggesting changes or alternatives to the organization in question. A clear rule was broken in this case: nipples were present on both participating individuals, and attendees recalled seeing exposed buttocks; images and student discourse demonstrate this to be true, even now as images of the event are resurfacing on YikYak in light of Flanagan’s article. As a result of attendees and club members being unaware of Flanagan’s status as a student or member of the overall Williamsburg, Va. community, many were hesitant to approach them to ask them to abide by the rules in place.
To understand the role of power in these interactions, one can look towards the work of Michel Foucault, a French philosopher and gay rights activist. Power, as Foucault suggests, is a silent, invisible force that manifests itself in a variety of interactions between people. It is not limited to one paradigm, and the most prominent examples we see are through the constructions of race, gender, sexuality and ability, as Flanagan emphasizes in this article. But as one can be erased in one dimension of their identity, one can receive power from another. What goes unspoken in the article is Flanagan’s interactions, and who is represented (and who isn’t) within them. They seem ignorant of how their age (being a 34-year-old non-traditional student) and privilege affect their interactions in an undergraduate space.
Overall, Flanagan’s article lacks critical awareness, understanding and context of the workings of queer organizations. We acknowledge that the College, as an institution, is not the most accessible, but MCOs have put in the work to make their spaces inclusive to everyone. We ask Flanagan: Whose inclusion is it, ours or yours?
