Timothy Schaffert is the author of numerous books, including The Perfume Thief (Knopf Doubleday, 2021) and The Swan Gondola (Riverhead, January 2014). He is a series editor of Zero Street Fiction which is committed to LGBTQ+ literary fiction with commercial potential. The first book in the series, Forget I Told You This by Hilary Zaid, will be published in September this year.

In many parts of the U.S., a teacher could be fired for being gay in the 1960s. In some states, such as Florida, teachers might be interrogated, arrested, and stripped of their credentials. At the very least, a college professor’s research into homosexuality studies might be dismissed as too narrow, too alienating, proving an obstacle to tenure and promotion [1]. Because of this, and because the history of college curriculum is somewhat ephemeral generally—syllabuses and other course materials tend to be discarded or filed away at semester’s end—those of us who study college studies are at some disadvantage when exploring the development of LGBTQ+ courses at American universities.

One short list of LGBTQ courses, typed-up by pioneering gay professor Louis Crompton in defense of his own course, “Proseminar in Homophile Studies” offered at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln in fall 1970, has proven to be one of few lanterns in the dark. Seeking approval for his course, which was in development during the Stonewall Riots, Crompton gathered what information he could on the curriculum of other colleges.

The list is spare, with only the titles of courses, the instructors, and the institutions; it lists courses offered coincident or just prior to Crompton’s own, including “The Sociology of Homosexuality” at the University of California at Berkeley, taught by Dr. Roxanna Sweet. The list indicates that the course was offered in spring 1970 (at the time his list was compiled), to be repeated the following fall semester. Due to this list, and assertions made by Crompton himself in later interviews, essays, and lectures, the course is often credited as the first college course in homosexuality studies.

While there is no evidence that Sweet’s course existed, there is much evidence against it. The Berkeley course catalogs of 1970 don’t list it, and while Sweet did indeed study homosexuality at Berkeley, she dissertated in 1968 in the criminology department (not the sociology department, as noted on Crompton’s list). Perhaps the most definitive proof comes from Crompton’s own archive, in the form of a letter he received from the vice chancellor for academic affairs at University of California, Berkeley, in February 1970, in response to his request for information on courses taught there.

“… the rumor that any campus of the University of California is instituting a course on homosexuality is just a rumor,” wrote John Henry Raleigh. Raleigh, however, demonstrated his support for Crompton’s efforts: “…I should be happy to see homosexuals treated like all other human beings.” [Many thanks to Barbara DiBernard for bringing this letter to my attention.]

Crompton’s archive also includes a note from the National Institute of Health indicating no awareness of any course on the subject, other than Crompton’s, ever having been offered.

I suspect these weren’t the answers Crompton was hoping for. While he might have been personally inspired at the opportunity to offer the first course of its kind, he likely recognized that Nebraska wasn’t so inclined—he would need to assure the university that it wasn’t pioneering in this regard, that it wasn’t making history, that Crompton’s course was part of an established field of scholarship.

So, I believe Crompton did what many of us do when faced with administrative hurdles: he told the university managers what they wanted to hear and hoped they didn’t ask too many questions. I don’t mean to imply that the list was in any way fraudulent, or slapped together. The list is definitely in response to Crompton’s diligent and rigorous pursuit of support for his course, and for homosexuality studies in general. But he provided as little detail as possible, so that he could list a variety of academic milestones: lectures, seminars, symposia, courses offered without credit, and/or courses that were part of special programming.

In this regard, Crompton’s list is extraordinary; it served its purpose of providing insight into homosexuality studies on U.S. college curriculums. And I think it did exactly what it was intended to do: it presented Crompton’s UNL course as something slightly less groundbreaking than it was. In reality, Crompton’s course was almost certainly the first course in homosexuality to be offered for credit by an American university, fully approved, and listed in a course catalog. It was also the first course to offer an interdisciplinary approach that was entirely sympathetic to the homosexual in society.

Which brings us around to another groundbreaking component of Crompton’s work and activism. Arno Press, which began independently in 1963 and was later purchased by the New York Times, published a “collection” under the heading of “Homosexuality: Lesbians and Gay Men in Society, History and Literature.” Crompton served on its editorial board. In addition to reprinting out-of-print queer classics by authors such as Ann Bannon and Natalie Barney, the collection included new research; among those books was Political and Social Action in Homophile Organizations, a version of Sweet’s dissertation, published by Arno in 1975.

When I began organizing a celebration of Crompton’s course in 2020, the pandemic interfered with the list of visitors, readings, and presentations I’d planned. I sought out other ways to build off UNL’s historic role, and inspired by Arno Press, I proposed Zero Street Fiction to the University of Nebraska Press, a series devoted to new works of fiction by queer authors.

I’ll add one last first for Crompton’s 1970 course: It was the first course in homosexuality to be designed by a professor with such a clear personal investment in its success. While Crompton, as a gay professor, couldn’t have openly expressed this personal connection, the course does fit in with other projects he initiated, such as the series with Arno Press, and his work in establishing LGBTQ community and student organizations.

And that personal connection likely speaks to his commitment to the course, his determination to go against state and federal legislation, against powerful voices of oppression, against historical prejudice; ultimately, it was more than a course, and more than a rebellion. It was an act of compassion, a gesture of humanity and humanization.  

That course, and the courses that followed it and the entire field of queer studies, all have been a lifeline to the students of Nebraska and around the world. When someone throws you a lifeline, you can throw it to other people, and they can throw it to others, and before you know it, such acts of generosity and heart becomes a legacy of rescue.  

Parts of this essay were delivered at the dedication of a Nebraska History state historical marker in honor of Louis Crompton on June 20, 2023.

Notes

[1] In Poisoned Ivy: Lesbian and Gay Academics Confronting Homophobia (1997), Toni A. H. McNaron writes of her own start in academia in 1964: “In the overwhelming majority of cases… [lesbian and gay] faculty were silent, reluctant to risk credibility and jobs by announcing their sexual identities. This self-monitoring, based on homophobic displays at the national and local levels, as in the political efforts of Senator Joseph McCarthy and the House Un-American Activities Committee and in the routine raiding of gay bars, allowed universities and colleges to avoid even thinking about the needs or concerns of lesbian and gay faculty.”