By Rylie Oswald
Katherine Rose-Mockry talks about her new book, Liberating Lawrence, which delves into LGBTQ activism at KU in the 1970s. Rose-Mockry also talks about the recent DEI centers merger at the University of Kansas.

How do you feel about the merging of the DEI centers at KU?
It certainly relates to my book, and it relates to the work I did for 20 years. I have strong feelings about what’s going on. And it’s interesting because it really harkens back to the 1970s.
I find it very interesting in how it’s unfolding. The students who are organizing, they are so together in putting things together. I’m very impressed with their level of organization and fortitude.
What do you think this means for the future of the centers that were part of this merger?
I think the answer is multilayered. It sort of depends on what this round of protests will bring about. Will the administrators making this decision follow up and listen and hold a town hall meeting? As for feedback, we don’t know. If they do that, will it influence their decision on what they arrived at?
Another thing that we don’t know. The larger political climate is really central in this too because regardless of what a person feels about who should be the winner in this race, each of the presidential candidates have very distinct views about diversity and multiculturalism, inclusion, etc. And so, that will influence where things go. I’ve noticed there are more and more instances of restrictions being set into place, whether they’re bills or laws, and its influence on climate.
What other parallels do you draw between LGBTQ activism in the 70s and what’s happening now, especially with the merger?
I feel strongly that the centers need to stand alone as individual units. And the issues are somewhat different in that we’re talking about structural units. Back then the argument was, “You need to include us. We need to be recognized.” And I guess in a sense you could say that students are saying this time around, “We need to be recognized as individual entities to be focused on.” So there is that similarity – calling for recognition.
I think another commonality is the determination and courage of the students coming forward, as well as staff and faculty. The issue for staff and faculty, particularly in this round, is it could jeopardize jobs if they are working anywhere on campus. And that’s pretty intimidating.
Back then in the 70s, you could be fired from a job without cause, because there were no protections for people who were gay and lesbian. So very scary for people who came forward. I think I included a couple of stories [in the book], and if I didn’t, people certainly told me about concerns that they might be fired because they were involved in that activism.
I think there was a story in there from the 1950s, where a faculty member had reported that there had been a dance off campus. And one of the deans had come into the dance and recognized campus faculty, and those people were fired.
What originally inspired you to write about the LGBTQ activism in KU?
I have been a director of a women’s center, a women and gender equity center for like 35 years. I feel very strongly about these issues. In the 1980s, when I was at UCLA, I would often hear from people in the LGBTQ community who came into our center with issues. For instance, they were being harassed, they had issues like parenting. What do you do when you and your partner are raising a child, and you’re concerned you might lose your rights? I heard about all sorts of things. I heard about some heartbreaking things, and I also heard about some of the wonderful outcomes.
Many people who are very close to me are gay, lesbian, and other classifications. These issues are important to me. When I came here [to KU], things began to change in terms of gender and sexual identity. As the categories have evolved, I think it’s even more important because many don’t understand and are hostile and excluding. Many are still getting a lot of flack and are ostracized.
I was looking at a number of categories for my dissertation when I entered the program. My advisor at the time, Lisa Wolf-Wendel, reached out to me. A KU alumnus had approached some academic departments looking for a doctoral student who wanted to do research on the Lawrence Gay Liberation Front.
It required a writing sample. I submitted one and was excited I was the one chosen. Not knowing a whole lot about the group, in the 70s, I started gathering research.
What was the most surprising thing you learned while writing this book?
One was the tenacity of the [LGLF] group members.
I know what it takes to maintain a student group, overseeing many during my tenure. Students have coursework. You can only devote so much time to a group. Some students who really care about these issues – women’s issues and gender equity issues – had to drop out of the group because they felt too stressed.
But with all that going on, and the pushback, and the kinds of projects they were taking out, those students persevered, and that’s pretty remarkable. And the group persevered through all of the name changes and so many different things.
Number two was in these groups there’s a lot of different views about one’s identity.
Some thought a person had to be at the place where they were proud of being gay, they were out. Everybody should be proud, everybody should be out, and if you aren’t talking about it, what’s your problem? Come on, get out, right? Some members had the desire to really push and make people accountable for the lack of presence for LGBTQ people on campus and other places.
Then there’s this other group of people where just coming into that [LGLF] meeting was their activism right there. They didn’t want to be radical, out there, raising a ruckus, so to speak. They just wanted to meet and connect with people. And there are all sorts of different levels between those two places; but in a lot of communities, groups dissolved because of the fighting among the radical and the more conservative branches.
So, there’s a group [LGLF] that furthered the “ruckus”, and a group that did not; but both respected the others right to their stance. I thought this was really important, and I’m sure it happened in some other places, but it wasn’t common. Usually, a group would get started, it would last a little while and it would implode.
How were women involved in LGBTQ activism?
When I did my dissertation, the group had started out being gender inclusive. The idea was, “We’d be for women and men both.” And to accomplish that, they had a female and a male co-leader. A great idea, and I thought that was very creative at the time to do that.
David Stout ended up leaving as the semester began in September. And the female co-leader, Elaine Riseman, took over. And she did a good job of maintaining that balance. But the balance began shifting, and it evolved into a primarily male group. But I was very curious: “So what about the women? I want to know what happened with the women on campus.”
With this book, one of my goals was to interview some of the women and find out their story.as well. And I loved writing that part. The women were really phenomenal and very much inclusive. They worked through their affiliations and connections, and that’s how they brought about change. They were integrated everywhere — in student-centered groups, classes, sports, they were in all sorts of places. The men less so. Their connections were more related to the group as a whole.
The stories that the women brought forward, they were mostly funny, some sad, empowering, remarkable. I think a lot of these women identified themselves first as feminists, rather than first as lesbians. And so they were more involved in that community.
Is there anything else you’d like to add?
In my book, I finished writing it before this all [the centers merging] came to pass. And before it came to pass, there was the SGD [Center for Sexuality and Gender Diversity]. I said, “Finally, the center that the people in the 70s were fighting for — it’s now an entity.”
Well, now it’s not. I’m trying to get the word out in other venues, so I don’t misrepresent the current reality. We don’t know what’s going to come to pass.
If campus administrators change their mind, that might be worth another book. Who knows? But there is no indication that this decision will be reversed, so I feel I need to set the record straight. It is also a good reminder that hard-fought progress can easily be undone.