Pride Week is upon us.

At Michigan State University we hold an annual Pride Week to celebrate the struggles—and strengths—of being queer. This year was, of course, no exception.

What was special was the addition of MSU Stonewall Democrats to the lineup of sponsors.

MSU Stonewall Democrats has been relatively quiet on MSU until earlier this week. Sure, we had been getting our name out at events, our Executive Board is amazing for next year, and we've already transformed where the MSU College Democrats invests their energy, but this was a chance to be really visible.

On Friday, April 16, nearly sixty students marched through campus, lined up two-by-two, demanding equal access and equal rights-the right to safety on our campus and access to benefits and responsibilities currently reserved for heterosexuals-regardless of sexual orientation or gender identity. While these topics are the lived experiences for some members of the Spartan community, they often seem abstract. After Thursday's edition of the State News, MSU's independent newspaper, the abstract become a lot more tangible.

At MSU, while benefits are given to heterosexual, married students, the Board of Trustees still feels it's acceptable to deny undergraduate students who are in committed, loving partnerships domestic partnership benefits. Of course this used to be a simple position to defend-we have to draw a line somewhere, and queer people can't get married. No marriage, no benefits. End of story.

That line just got a lot less clear.

Becky Richendollar and her wife Linda Oakleaf were married in California this semester. Richendollar is a student at MSU, a queer student in a same-gendered marriage. She's got the paper from San Francisco city hall to prove it.

Richendollar and her wife are still not on equal footing with heterosexual couples at MSU. We can start by listing the little benefits denied: student tickets, intramural sports facility access, married student housing. These make up the peripheral ring of discrimination, ultimately focusing on the epicenter of unequal social recognition and status for queer families.

When we were marching on Friday we weren't marching just to chant about queer revolution and "Hey, hey! Ho, ho! Homophobia's got to go"-ing it up. We were marching because people like Becky Richendollar are regarded as second-class students, second-class citizens.

In the words of the marchers, "We're here. We're queer. Get used to it"—and give us equal rights.