The Stemmler/Dennis LGBT& Award, established by Sigma Tau Delta members Dr. Kevin Stemmler and Dr. Larry Dennis, honors exceptional creative and critical works that represent or celebrate the LGBTQ+ community. This annual award addresses the historical marginalization of LGBTQ+ voices in academia, providing recognition for both creative and scholarly contributions. The award’s name incorporates an ampersand, inspired by GLAAD’s “&Together” campaign and the work of G&LR, symbolizing inclusivity and unity among diverse identities. This year’s winners were selected from over 120 eligible submissions for presentation at the annual Sigma Tau Delta/English Honor Society Convention. Submissions were evaluated by LGBTQ+ faculty judges in the Society. For more information, see English.org, “Awards”
As part of Lambda Literary’s partnership with Sigma Tau Delta, we are proud to celebrate the achievements of Stemmler/Dennis Award winners like Grey Halverson.
A testimony on speaking with god through your parents’ new microwave
You came home your first weekend of college
but this house isn’t your home.
Your home is still twenty minutes away,
down the street from your best friend,
but they left for Kansas three years ago.
Your home is still twenty minutes away,
With a lilac tree in the corner of the
yard that your dog dug underneath.
There was a bell on the backdoor from him
that your mom didn’t take down until you moved.
So instead you’re here, twenty minutes away from home.
You sit in the orange floodlight of your garage
after your parents have gone to bed.
It’s here that you light a joint and listen
to the kids across the street
and they remind you that nothing really changes.
Your cat’s been watching you
through the window of the family room.
A family at your sister-in-law's school needed homes for a new litter.
Your tiger-striped baby still nurses a pillow
that looks just like him.
You come back inside
and rifle through a bag of pastries you took from your shitty job before you quit.
Your hand finds a slice of banana bread,
and you tear through the cellophane with a satisfying crinkle
before placing it on an Ikea plate
that your mom bought when she was your age.
You feel the warm glow and the gentle hum
of the microwave in your parents’ new
kitchen and you find god for the first time
since your brother brought you to your first punk show,
the one where you finally didn’t feel so alone
and you remember nothing really changes.
Compost in Training
Place me in the ground to rot.
Let the earth take me,
Let the earthworms consume me.
I would like to come home.
Let the earth take me,
Take me away from my flesh.
I would like to come home
I would like to be at peace
Take me away from my flesh,
Commodified and sexualized and
marketed. I would like to be at peace
In the home I’ve made here.
Commodified and sexualized and marketed.
Let the earthworms consume me,
In the home I’ve made here.
Place me in the ground to rot.
An ode to DIY
My first punk show
was in an old dance studio,
long abandoned
beside the train tracks
across from the Walgreens.
My still stiff Solovairs
bringing blisters into being
while my brother complained
I don’t know why I thought this would start on time.
I learned to swim in a sea
of elbows and spikes,
bass and drums reverberating
in my chest.
We laughed with
strangers we’ll never see
again, over the exact
same story,
told a million different ways.
A retrospective on the Xbox360
It was intended for your older brother.
A christmas gift from your parents,
neatly packaged together with Borderlands and Modern Warfare 2.
You wish your parents put your name on the tag.
The drone of a space heater working too hard accompany the late nights
you could watch,
but only if you’re quiet. His friends don’t want to play with you anyway.
You wish boys wanted to be friends with you.
At last he left it alone long enough for you to pick it up.
You start your first Minecraft world
and recount the tale while nobody listens.
You wish you understood your friends.
Your favorite game was Skyrim
because it made you feel badass
(please don’t tell my mom I said ass)
and no one knew your character was a boy.
I wish I was a boy
I wish I was a boy
I wish I was a boy
I wish I was a boy
GREY HALVERSON is a Chicago native currently residing in Kalamazoo, Michigan. He is an undergraduate student at Western Michigan University majoring in English Literature and Language. Between their brief stints of writing, they enjoy crocheting, cuddling their POS cat, and playing violent video games.
