A Princeton (Chapel) Kind of Courage
Sitraka St. Michael ’11 writes that when he came out at Princeton, the Chapel under retired Dean Alison Boden offered ’the kind of encouraging welcome my faith needed’

This year, Princeton just won’t be the same. And Reunions or any other trip back won’t feel the same either, mainly because of the Rev. Alison Boden’s retirement as dean of the Office of Religious Life (ORL) and of the Chapel.
If I had to say three things about what I was like when I first arrived on campus, I would say that: 1. I loved Jesus, 2. I knew I was very, very gay, and 3. the Chapel was the first place I went to. So, there I was on the first Sunday of my freshman year at the 11 a.m. Chapel service, and so was Dean Boden, who had also just started at Princeton that year.
The liturgical pomp and circumstance of Chapel service felt as distant from the church services driven by exorcism that I’d become accustomed to as Princeton was from my native Madagascar. Towering on the outside and inviting once you made it inside, the Chapel channeled what Princeton promised to be for my story — the time and the place where I could think courageously about something I had come to believe. I thought there was no way I could love Jesus and be very, very gay. The Chapel was the haven where I could gather what I needed should I dare to deny claims my upbringing had erected as nonnegotiables to an honorable life and emerge with a faith that would truly sustain my spirit and finally stop crushing it.
And I knew I would need a church community to center me through the angst of it all — no matter how my coming out journey would unfold (if at all). So, there I was, at the Chapel. And Dean Boden’s first word to me after I introduced myself was: “Welcome.”
In my day, the Chapel was the only Christian community on campus where I knew — and felt — I could find the kind of encouraging welcome my faith needed. Dean Boden and her team quickly became a mainstay of my Princeton story. I felt safe knowing that, every Tuesday evening and Sunday morning, they would be there at the Chapel Student Fellowship and at the Chapel service.
It was no small thing to hear the same message from every sermon I heard from the Chapel’s pulpit, every program hosted by the Office of Religious Life, and every conversation I had with fellow students who called the Chapel their Christian community: that neither the multitudes I was carrying within nor my quest to embody those multitudes was cause for silence — or shame.
Hearing their underlying call to courage so consistently ultimately empowered me to come out to my mom in my junior year. The short version of my coming out scene is that: 1. it did not go well, 2. some crying and yelling was involved, and 3. the first person I emailed about it was Dean Boden. And a sentence in her reply remains with me: “There is so much courage for you in all of this.”
There has been more courage for me in the many waves I’ve had to ride since then. And there is much courage for all of us, for Princeton, and for current and future students alike in the seasons to come — the courage to unlearn, the courage to expand one’s discourse on gender expression, the courage to reinvent oneself, the courage to embrace ambiguity within a framework of commitment.
Current and future students will continue to come to Princeton with multitudes unfolding within them. Those who will be willing to engage their unfolding will have to do so in a country that may feel unpredictable, hostile — and impossible even. I remain grateful that I had the opportunity to engage my unfolding at Princeton while Dean Boden was there. Her ministry empowered me to lead a life of courage, which thankfully did not feel dangerous or impossible when I was getting ready to walk out of FitzRandolph Gate.
Empowering. It would be hard for anyone who has made it through Princeton to say it was not empowering. And it is equally hard to imagine Princeton’s singular legacy of empowerment without the work of unsung heroes of faith like Dean Boden and her colleagues at the ORL, who give so many students courage. Theirs is work that sets many on a trajectory of lifelong engagement with the University’s mission and transforms lives like mine.
These days, many lives are stifled by the threat of government-sanctioned erasure, violence, and terror. It is dangerous to say, “I am a gay follower of Christ” or “I believe God calls me to stand with my trans siblings.” In times like these, the Chapel and the ORL will continue to be a critical place to land — and find voice — for those whose trajectories call for exceptional courage.
We should be glad that the Chapel and the ORL remain at Princeton under the capable leadership of Dean Theresa Thames. I’m already waiting for the stories of a Princeton kind of courage they’ll empower others to write in the uncertain seasons to come.
Malagasy by birth, Episcopalian by choice, and a divinity school grad, Sitraka St. Michael ’11 is a New York-based mergers and acquisitions lawyer and an aspiring writer.
0 Responses