Lodge rules:
These regulations extended well beyond six points, but the remaining rules have since faded in my memory. However, the initial moment I read the explicit ban on queer couples in the lodge remains fresh—and the fear I felt surrounding this and other instances of explicit and frequently institutionalized homophobia while on a study abroad trip to Ghana will stay with me for a long while.
I had the privilege of being a part of a course-embedded study abroad trip to Ghana over spring break with my West African dance class. The trip was a valuable experience in many ways, and I am thoroughly grateful to have been a part of it. The exceptional dance and music classes were transformative in my journey as an artist, while interactions with borderline white savior figures and organizations were important, albeit annoying, moments of learning about the realities of the tourism and NGO sectors in foreign countries. But perhaps the most painful lesson the trip taught me was about the virulence and omnipresent nature of homophobia in Ghana.
Two weeks before I arrived in Ghana, the country’s parliament passed a bill making being queer illegal, punishable by up to three years in prison. According to the locals I talked with in Ghana, queerness “did not exist” in Ghana prior to colonialism; queerness has no place in traditional African religions, Islam, or Christianity, and thus the highly religious population generally seems to believe that queerness is a colonial import. As the country attempts to decolonize every aspect of its culture, homophobia is an unfortunate byproduct.
Because of the parliamentary decision, gay rights were the most discussed political issue on radio stations and posters. It was almost impossible to spend more than 20 minutes in the car without being subjected to a politician’s rant about how the LGBTQ community is destroying Ghanaian culture and society. Lectures we attended and movies we watched, supposedly about local dance and music, almost always featured discussions of how Ghanaians believe homosexuality is a societal ill, often with no counter perspective from the presenter or narrator. I knew about the state of gay rights in Ghana before I left for this trip, and yet I was still taken aback by the pervasive nature of the anti-queer sentiment. I was also taken aback by the lack of support or communication from Wesleyan regarding the precarious position of LGBTQ-identifying students on the trip.
Personally, while I struggled with these experiences, I found them valuable in understanding my position and privilege as a queer person who lives in a country where queerness is not institutionally persecuted and attends a University where queerness is widely accepted. However, these difficult moments and the constant state of worry they put me in make me wonder how ethical a trip like this truly is.
Is sending queer students to countries where being queer is illegal a responsible decision by Wesleyan? Is failing to explain the state of LGBTQ rights and providing little or no support to queer students on such trips acceptable? I found myself thinking about these questions constantly while in Ghana, and I have continued to ponder them since I returned.
On the one hand, perhaps it is not the University’s responsibility to only provide students with study abroad opportunities that ensure their total safety. One could certainly argue that students have the power to choose where they study abroad based on their level of comfort with local laws, cultural norms, and understanding of their personal safety in a given place. I did choose to go to Ghana, after all. However, because this study abroad experience was course-embedded, it was an expectation that all students enrolled in “West African Dance III” (DANC365) would go to Ghana unless extraneous circumstances prevailed.
Additionally, the personal choice argument would hold more weight if Wesleyan or the Office of Study Abroad proactively communicated potential risks and dangers to students as they chose where to study abroad. Unfortunately, I received no communication before, during, or after my time in Ghana regarding the potential dangers of traveling there as a queer person or the difficulties of studying abroad in a country where homophobia is deeply ingrained in the local culture. If Wesleyan is to offer study abroad opportunities in countries where certain groups of students may be disproportionately persecuted, discriminated against, or legally targeted, I believe it is the responsibility of the institution and the Office of Study Abroad to adequately brief students about the risks they may face before the trip. I was somewhat prepared because of my own research, but if I had not been so proactive, I would have been completely blindsided by the homophobia I experienced in Ghana.
I also wonder if it is the University’s responsibility to ensure students are safe during their respective study abroad experiences. There were moments in Ghana when I seriously considered what would happen if authorities found out I was queer—what would happen to me then? Would Wesleyan help me out, or would it be my responsibility to navigate the legal system on my own? If it is a student’s responsibility to choose a study abroad experience that aligns with their level of comfort, one might argue that students must therefore deal with the consequences of these decisions. However, if students are paying thousands of dollars to an institution sponsoring their travel abroad, is that institution totally void of responsibility for that student’s safety, simply because that student made a choice to study in a certain location? I’m not so sure.
Clearly, I have more questions than answers about the ethical dilemmas I grappled with while abroad in Ghana. I hope to at least voice these questions as Wesleyan continues to expand its study abroad presence—and as spending time overseas becomes an exceedingly ubiquitous part of the Wesleyan student experience. As grateful as I am for everything I learned in Ghana, I left the trip with a lot of uncomfortable memories of fear and isolation. While I was able to deal with these experiences and still make the best of the trip, a queer student less accustomed to hiding parts of their identity or experiencing homophobia might have been much more uncomfortable than me, in ways that could have tainted their experience entirely.
In the interest of its diverse array of students, I hope Wesleyan and the Office of Study Abroad at least take these ethical questions into consideration as the possibility of sending students to locations where they are faced with discrimination continues to exist. In the words of our University President, Ghana may not be a “safe enough space” for students without proactive communication from administrators. And that should be a priority. After all, what is a liberal arts college, if not an institution dedicated to serving the educational needs of its students?
Akhil Joondeph is a member of the class of 2026 and can be reached at ajoondeph@wesleyan.edu.