Lisa Howe never intended to be a "lesbian activist." Nor, in an interview with the Scene last week, did she seem like someone who thinks of herself in terms of "sexual identity" or "socio-political frameworks." She came across, pretty much, as what she says she's always been: a dedicated soccer coach and a devoted Christian.
But the events of the past two weeks are forcing Howe into a new role, whether she likes it or not. Surrounded by allies experienced in civil rights issues, including powerhouse Nashville attorney Abby Rubenfeld, Howe has remained positive ever since a flap erupted over her controversial exit from Belmont University — a move that Belmont tried to spin as a mutual agreement, but which Howe's players told the media was an administrative ouster related to the pregnancy of Howe's partner.
Until last week, she had also remained relatively quiet, allowing the Belmont community, and others outraged by her sudden exit from Belmont's athletics staff, to speak loudly and forcefully in her defense. At present, she will not discuss the terms of her hiring or firing. Nevertheless, her story has spurred a national dialogue that has not only called into question Belmont's policies, but has brought to light broader issues of discrimination in women's athletics and within the Christian community.
Yet it is sometimes easy to forget that Howe's story begins — and will likely soon resume, she hopes — on the soccer field.
While coaching at the high school and college club levels after her own collegiate soccer career, Howe didn't intend to make coaching her profession. During the early 1990s, though, as the passage of Title IX created more opportunities in women's soccer, she decided to ride the wave of expansion. She was head women's soccer coach at Berry College in Georgia for one season and Jackson State University for the following 10 years, in a program she says she "started from scratch."
In her six years at Belmont, Howe turned a losing team into Atlantic Sun Conference champions and was named conference Coach of the Year in 2009. Her student-athletes have also flourished under her leadership. Despite her alleged ouster, the Belmont Athletic Department's website still brags: "The program has not only soared on the field but continues to excel in the classroom under Howe's leadership. Thirty-one players over the last three years have earned Atlantic Sun All-Academic honors."
When asked if she was ever openly gay while heading any of these soccer programs, Howe simply responded, "I have never been out." A cultural stereotype exists that women's athletics is an accepting environment (or even a breeding ground) for lesbians. But according to Howe — and to Helen Carroll, a former NCAA women's basketball coach who is now director of the National Center for Lesbian Rights Sports Project — this assumption has created an opposite backlash.
"Every woman [in college athletics] winds up being put on this defensive of having to prove that they're not lesbian," Carroll says, "because the hiring and firing and the public image of women ... takes over the climate with [regard to] who they are, how they look, and who they are supposed to be."
The result — according to Carroll, who was present with Rubenfeld at Howe's interview — has been the unofficial implementation of a "don't ask, don't tell" policy. Carroll says, for example, that there is only one openly lesbian coach in all of NCAA Division I Women's Basketball: Sherri Murrell of Portland State. Howe and Carroll agree that the overall impact of this unwelcoming climate is to harm the self-image and overall development of student-athletes. Howe especially finds this regrettable.
"If people think that I'm a lesbian but they watch me hide it all the time," Howe says, "then I'm sending a message that is just reinforcing [the idea of] living a lie."
In her case, Howe says, coming out to her players and putting an end to gossip and speculation about her identity was "long overdue." Rubenfeld adds that Howe's coming out sets an important precedent, in that "it does show that you can be successful as a coach and, by the way, 'I'm a lesbian.' Who cares?"
Apparently, some of Belmont's trustees do care, as well as a multitude of online community members who have made their opinions known via the websites of the Scene and Tennessean. Using Christian beliefs and doctrine for ammunition, some have claimed there is no place for Howe and other gay people at Belmont, or within the Christian community.
Maybe this shouldn't have come as a surprise to Howe, a devout Christian — but it did. Asked about Belmont's mission statement, which calls for adherence to Christian principles, Howe responded without skipping a beat: "My opinion was that I met Belmont's mission statement."
That opinion is seconded by Faith in America, an organization that fights against "faith-based bigotry." FIA spokeswoman and country singer Chely Wright — the subject of Nashville's other big coming-out story this year — told the Scene she had offered to meet with Belmont President Robert Fisher to "talk about a healing way forward for the community."
"I believe that every person should be able to live the faith tradition that speaks to their beliefs," Wright says. "That will only happen when we end the misuse of faith as a basis for division and stigmatization."
Wright sees the support for Howe on Belmont's campus as a strong sign. "I wonder if people realized, generally, how many gay and lesbian people there are in the Belmont community before this happened," she says. "And look how powerful it has been for that sector of the community to come together with their friends and allies and make themselves known. They, along with their supporters nationwide, have already moved this conversation forward in incredible ways, [proving that] being gay and being a Christian are not mutually exclusive."
Though neither Howe nor Rubenfeld will comment on Belmont's specific policies due to a confidentiality agreement, both point to Fisher's public statement Dec. 8 as an indication of changes to come. After claiming that there has been no institutionalized discrimination against gays and lesbians during his tenure, Fisher stated, "I need for you to hear that clearly: Sexual orientation is not considered in making hiring, promotion, salary or dismissal decisions at Belmont. Neither is it considered in any manner in regard to our students or to admission."
Some in the Belmont community remain skeptical — as evidenced by a recent student statement debunking a university-led discussion group about gay issues called "Difficult Discussions," which students claim has lived up to its name by being made as hard to find and attend as possible. But Rubenfeld says that she and Howe choose to "take him at his word." He said it, the attorney notes, and said it twice.
"That's a policy," Rubenfeld says. "Now they just need to write it up."
Howe credits Belmont benefactor Mike Curb for speaking out in her defense. She says that her decision to grant interviews was made partly so she could show her gratitude to Curb, among others. "I give a lot of the credit to those Belmont students and faculty that made themselves heard," she says. "I hope it can be an example for other Christian schools across the country."
As far as her own role in this story, Howe hopes she can "use this momentum to help someone or educate people. I never went into this thinking I had that chance." And after that? Carroll and Rubenfeld say it's important to get Coach Howe back on the field, where she belongs. When asked if she foresees a future in activism, Lisa Howe chuckles.
"I'm a soccer coach at heart," she says.
Email editor@nashvillescene.com.
