RAINBOW ACADEMY: A VISION OF BELONGING
It's almost 7:30 on a Friday night, in the thick of autumn. The audience trickles into a rental space that used to be a church. Stained glass surrounds us on three sides; a sweeping staircase dominates the front of the room. Ten performers sit on the steps, laughing, glancing at their notes nervously. It is about to begin: the staged reading for Rainbow Academy, the brainchild of BYU student Peter Morgan.
As the title suggests, the musical draws from Morgan's experiences being a gay man at BYU. As a queer BYU student myself, I was shocked that the project was greenlighted. I was less surprised to learn that the original venue was the Madsen Recital Hall in the HFAC. Even though this was Morgan's capstone project, he was not allowed to perform it on BYU campus.
Morgan stands out among the performers. His shining eyes dart around the crowd as he picks up the microphone to begin the show. Boasting a 26-song bill, Rainbow Academy draws from his experiences as a gay man at a Christian college and the deep suffering and abundant joy found in those experiences.
As per Morgan’s request, each member of the audience wore their favorite color, creating a patchwork rainbow. Likewise, each performer wore a different color, representing their identities and relationships with each other. Given BYU's apprehension about symbols, or flag-waving, as it likes to call it, this display of color seemed a joyful show of defiance.
As he introduced himself and the project, I couldn't help but sense the sacred space being created. Christ said that "where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them." I never truly understood what this meant growing up until I started attending gatherings for queer Mormons. The kind of community that I found there was something intangibly important. In a room full of strangers, I felt connected to them as we witnessed the kind of divine truth-telling I’ve seldom found in Church-sponsored settings.
Billed as the story of seven gay roommates at a religious college, the project is a bold statement, to say the least. While it is set at the fictional Christian Loren Academy, the influence of Mormonism is apparent and abundant. The staged reading consisted of just musical numbers and, including the dialogue, would make the event nearly five hours.
Several moments stood out to me throughout the performance. The Act I finale, "Extraordinary," directly quotes the notes from the first meeting of the LDS Relief Society as recorded by Eliza R. Snow. Morgan repurposes these words ingeniously to illustrate the need for Christians to rise to the call of their faith, rather than use it as a weapon against marginalized peoples.
It breaks my heart to see how far the Church has strayed from its original beliefs. Eliza R. Snow, for example, held a level of influence over her community unparalleled when compared to women of the contemporary Church. Both the early Christian and early Mormon Churches operated on radical inclusivity. In this sense, it’s hard to see any real justification for the current exclusion of women and queer people from full participation.
The Act II finale, "Amen (The Rainbow Academy)," provided a hopeful end. The characters choose to turn to their community for protection instead of appealing to higher authority. Creating a “new Academy,” they answer the call made in “Extraordinary” to form a truly Christian community.
Like most advocates for LGBTQIA+ rights at BYU, I have learned from experience that very little can be done to change policy on campus. Instead, the most meaningful and actionable change I’ve observed has started off-campus. Even though structural marginalization remains, our efforts to change hearts and minds will not go unrewarded.
Rainbow Academy surprised me in that it refuses to fall on either side of the stark divide between faith and queerness. Instead, it shows that God is the answer to the persecution and marginalization we experience at the hands of others. Near the end of the performance, Morgan introduced one of the tracks by sharing a past prayer: "God, I don't care what other people think! Am I coming closer to you?"
As a queer person of faith, I often feel displaced within the LGBTQIA+ community because of my commitment to religious life. People like me are often scorned from both sides as they try to live authentically. When I published a piece about this last year, I received comments telling me to leave BYU and the Church because I was queer. These came from members of the Church and queer people positioned against the Church alike.
The event ended around 9:50, and the rental ended at 10. As I joined the audience in a thunderous standing ovation, my heart filled with gratitude. These sacred moments of communion rarely last long and are never regular. Queer people at BYU are regularly banned, restricted, ignored, targeted, and forgotten. In this case, the performance was deprived of the professional equipment and superior space that it should’ve been afforded. Yet, in moments like these, I can't help but feel a strange sense of hope.
Surrounded by a sea of color, Rainbow Academy reminded me that I am not alone. For three hours on an autumn night, a truly Christlike community was formed. Queer Christians are here to stay.