Several studies have examined the experiences of LGBTQIA+ students in campus housing and suggested best practices to address their needs, including gender-inclusive housing and appropriate bathrooms, staff training on the lived experiences of queer and trans students, and living-learning communities to foster a greater sense of belonging (Kortegast, 2017; Mollet et al., 2021; Nicolazzo & Marine, 2015). There is limited research on the specific housing preferences of these students when campuses offer a variety of options (Krum et al., 2013) and no research on the factors that go into their housing decision-making process. While more colleges and universities today offer gender-inclusive housing (GIH) and living-learning communities (LLCs) for LGBTQIA+ students (Alonso, 2023; Beemyn, 2024; Garvey et al., 2018; Jordan et al., 2017; Taub et al., 2016, 2023), many still do not, and trans and nonbinary students continue to face challenges beyond the availability of appropriate housing (Nicolazzo & Marine, 2015; Nicolazzo et al., 2018).
While some campus housing systems are very supportive of LGBTQIA+ students, others are unnecessarily restrictive or non-inclusive. Many queer and trans students of color are made to feel they do not belong or matter in gender-inclusive housing and LGBTQIA+ living-learning communities, despite intentions for these spaces to be supportive of all LGBTQIA+ students (Mollet et al., 2021). When campuses did offer gender-inclusive housing more widely, more than 5% of students chose it, reflecting its growing popularity, as most institutions offered this housing in apartment-style units, rather than traditional double rooms (Taub et al., 2023).
According to a national survey on the mental health of young LBGTQ individuals, only 40% of respondents indicated that they came from homes that were affirming spaces (The Trevor Project, 2024), so the times when residence halls are closed can be particularly vulnerable times for them. The Trevor Project (2022) estimates that 28% of LGBTQ youth experience homelessness or housing instability at some point in their lives, and in fact they make up a significant portion of the youth homeless population; in one study, one in four individuals in unstable housing identified as LGBTQ (Baams et al., 2019). Even though many colleges and universities that close their residence halls for break periods offer housing options (at the higher cost), these time periods can still create obstacles for LGBTQIA+ students.
LGBTQIA+ individuals with disabilities face even more obstacles. The Human Rights Campaign (2022) analyzed the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention 2020 Behavioral Risk Factor Surveillance System data and found that LGBTQ+ adults were more likely to report a disability, particularly a cognitive one. Many residence halls lack features that students with disabilities need—such as air filtration and temperature control, elevators, and flexibility in housing options—and sometimes accommodations also restrict their ability to socially integrate (Wilke et al., 2019).
Many factors can influence a student’s decision to live in a particular space, and it is critical to better understand why some LGBTQIA+ students choose gender-inclusive housing and LGBTQIA+ living-learning communities and why many do not. When several LGBTQIA+-supportive housing options are available, what are the driving forces that influence their decisions?
TERMINOLOGY
For mutual understanding between the authors and the reader, we start by defining a few terms. We will utilize the initialism LGBTQIA+ to refer to lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, queer/questioning, intersex, and asexual individuals; the plus sign acknowledges the many gender and sexual identities that are left unnamed in this or any abbreviation (National Geographic, 2021), though we also use variations of this term from cited sources. We indicate participants’ gender and sexual identities in the same way that they described them, though some LGBTQIA+ media guides may recommend avoiding them (GLAAD, 2022). We use the word nonbinary as an umbrella term for all students who identify outside of the gender binary, including those who describe themselves as agender, genderqueer, and genderfluid (Diamond, 2020). We use the term cisgender or cis to describe those whose gender identity aligns with their sex assigned at birth (Simmons & White, 2014). We use the word pansexual as part of an umbrella term under bisexuality, for those who have “the capacity to form enduring physical, romantic, and/or emotional attractions to any person, regardless of gender identity” (GLAAD, 2022, para. 26); similarly, we use the term panromantic to distinguish between sexual and romantic attraction, which in this case would mean someone who has a romantic attraction to any person regardless of gender identity. We use the terms transmasc and transfem (short for trans masculine and trans feminine, respectively) to describe individuals who are typically drawn to masculine or feminine expressions, but who may not describe themselves as a trans man or woman; transmasc and transfem can also include genderfluid and nonbinary individuals (Erickson-Schroth, 2014). We use the term ace as an abbreviation for asexuality, typically defined as a lack of sexual attraction, and we use the term ace flux to describe individuals who “can experience changes in their sexual identity over time” (Carvalho & Rodrigues, 2025, p. 280). The word demisexual refers to those who “experience sexual attraction only after forming an emotional connection with someone” (Copulsky & Hammack, 2023, p. 221).
We use the term gender-inclusive housing to refer to accommodations that allow roommates to be of any gender identity (not necessarily limited to LGBTQIA+ students), since many others, such as friends and siblings, also benefit from a gender-inclusive environment (Taub et al., 2023). Gender-inclusive housing, which was implemented on many campuses in response to what LGBTQ+ students perceived of as hostile environments, is an important option for students and a crucial part of institutional efforts to promote more comfortable living environments (Taub et al., 2023).
We use the term living-learning community to refer to communities with a designated theme and often a curriculum that supports the theme. While some current definitions of LLCs stress a “shared academic experience, and provide cocurricular learning activities” (Inkelas et al., 2018, p. 1), we believe this does not necessarily involve shared coursework but can also occur through specific events.
Based on the bathroom policy of the institution used for this study, we use the term restrooms to indicate facilities without showers and bathrooms for facilities with showers. As students often use these terms interchangeably, we corrected their language, when necessary, in direct quotations to avoid confusion.
We use the term agency to refer to the varying levels of power that students have to select their housing. This is an important consideration, since priority in the housing process is based on class standing or admittance term, lottery numbers, and available beds in specific facilities. Students who are reapplying for housing after time away from campus (studying abroad, temporary withdrawals, etc.) and transfer students also receive varied priority.
HOUSING OPTIONS AND THE SELECTION PROCESS
To contextualize the students’ experiences, we first discuss the housing options and selection process at the university used for this study based on information from the institution’s website. This university has one of the largest residential populations of any higher education institution in the country; the halls are divided into residential areas, with some halls designated for first-year or returning students. The institution offers mostly traditional-style doubles with communal bathrooms, though a few buildings offer apartment-style or suite-style housing. Most residence halls operate on a nine-month basis and close during Thanksgiving, winter break, and spring break. Most have a single-stall gender-inclusive restroom in lobbies away from residential rooms, as well as gendered communal bathrooms where the students live. Some buildings have single-user gender-inclusive bathrooms in the residential wings, while the gender-inclusive housing offers multi-stall gender-inclusive bathrooms. The institution offers one gender-inclusive housing option for first-year students and three for returning students (in doubles, suites, and apartments).
Selecting an assignment in single rooms can be a challenge for residents. According to the administrators responsible for housing assignments at the institution, single rooms are in high demand during the housing selection process for returning students. Most buildings offer a limited number of single rooms, far fewer than what is needed. This is in line with the national trend of institutions being able to offer single rooms to students with disability accommodations; but the number of available single rooms cannot always accommodate all students, with or without disabilities, who request them (Vaccaro & Kimball, 2018).
In addition to gender-inclusive housing, the institution offers identity-based communities, including one for LGBTQIA+ students. The community is open to first-year students but is typically filled by returning students. Break housing also exists for those who wish to stay on campus during school-year break periods. However, because many residence halls were built prior to the Americans with Disabilities Act, they lack elevators and are often not fully accessible. First-year students can participate in a first-year living-learning community: a small group of students who live in the same hall and take a course together. The institution also offers honors housing, with a few buildings reserved almost exclusively for honors program students. The cost of these options varies, depending on location, the number of students in the room, and whether or not it is break housing. Many of these options are offered separately and rarely overlap. For example, buildings with identity-based communities often do not offer break housing, honors housing does not have identity-based communities, and there are no identity-based communities specifically for first-year students.
Agency in housing selection varies by class standing. First-year students have limited agency in selecting housing, although all first-years are guaranteed on-campus housing. Most first-year students complete a preference form, which asks about their preferred residential areas and their interest in gender-inclusive housing, and are then assigned a room by residential life staff. In comparison, returning students have significantly more agency in housing selection; they can form roommate groups and select specific rooms via a lottery system, with rising sophomores prioritized in this process. Because of when they are admitted, transfer students have the least agency; they choose housing later in the process and cannot be pulled into roommate groups by returning students. They are often assigned to a transfer-specific community or are placed among remaining vacancies. Students also have opportunities to make changes to their assignments, but a very small percentage of students choose to do so.
STUDY DESIGN
Participant Recruitment
We conducted the study at a large public university after receiving approval from its Institutional Review Board. The study involved a demographic survey that led to semi-structured interviews for 40 of the students who completed the survey. Participants needed to be undergraduates at the institution who identified as LGBTQIA+ and who were living on campus at the time of the interview. They were awarded a $20 gift card for their involvement in the research, and one participant received a $100 gift card (funded by the ACPA Coalition for Sexuality & Gender Identities) via a random drawing following completion of the interviews.
In alignment with convenience sampling practices (Golzar et al., 2022), we sought participants primarily through existing LGBTQIA+ student channels. We recruited participants by emailing students who lived in the LGBTQIA+ living-learning community and gender-inclusive housing, contacting LGBTQIA+ student organizations, and posting a notice in the LGBTQIA+ campus center’s online newsletter. This method made recruitment of participants easier, though it can introduce potential sampling biases (Alvi, 2016). More than 70 students agreed to be a part of the study, and we selected initial participants on a first-come, first-served basis. When nine of them failed to respond to our request to schedule an interview or did not show up for their interview, we replaced them with new participants, who added greater diversity to the sample in terms of race, class standing, gender identity, location, and the type of housing they lived in.
Data Collection and Analysis
We conducted the interviews via Zoom during the Fall 2023 semester and asked participants to choose pseudonyms to protect their identities. We allotted 60 minutes for each interview and asked a combination of open-ended and Likert scale-based questions. We utilized Critical Trans Politics (CTP) as a theoretical approach in this study (Spade, 2011) because it focuses on cultural oppression and the factors that allow it to exist and emphasizes the inclusion of multiple voices. This framework recognizes intersectionality (Crenshaw, 1991) and represents agency and coalition building as the means of making meaningful changes.
We are aware that several factors—the perceptions of our positionalities and power, the order in which we asked questions, and the participants’ identity saliency at the time of our interviews (Harris & Brown, 2010)—had the potential to limit the qualitative data. Thus, we chose to utilize Likert-scale questions to get a better sense of the participants as a whole. At the same time, relying solely on Likert-scale questions increases the chances of misinterpretation due to inadvertently biased questions, respondent unreliability and misunderstandings, and coding errors (Jamieson, 2004; Oppenheim, 1992). However, utilizing a multi-method approach enables researchers to clarify observed events and enhances the ability to find patterns and themes (Roller & Lavrakas, 2015). While mixing semi-structured interviews with Likert-scale questionnaires is not without challenges, including possible redundancy, it can be beneficial for a clearer understanding of values and beliefs (Harris & Brown, 2010).
Participants were asked to describe the biggest factors in their housing selection process. We asked a few clarifying questions regarding their current housing assignment (i.e., single or double; suite, apartment, or traditional; gendered or gender-inclusive housing). We asked to what extent they believed their identities influenced where they chose to live on campus. We also asked about their housing history and if they had experience in other housing styles. To get an understanding of any decision-making factors that participants may have unintentionally excluded, we then transitioned to our Likert scale-based section, where we prompted participants to indicate how important different factors were for them, including living in the LGBTQIA+ living-learning community and gender-inclusive housing; the location of the residence hall; the type and cost of the room; living in break housing; and a shared identity with their roommates, floormates, and residence hall staff. In these prompts, students were asked to rate each factor on a scale from 1 to 5: 1 = unimportant, 3 = important, and 5 = critically important. To obtain both quantitative and qualitative data related to these factors, we gave participants the opportunity to explain their selection after each prompt.
We used thematic analysis to identify and analyze patterns in participants’ responses. Consistent with well-established thematic analysis procedures (Braun & Clarke, 2006), we reviewed the data before coding each transcript and generating labels for important semantic and conceptual features found in responses. We identified how often topics came up in initial open-ended responses compared to how they correlated to their Likert-scale responses and examined the experiences they shared in subsequent prompts.
PARTICIPANT DEMOGRAPHICS
The demographic survey collected information about class standing, race, ability, gender identity, sexual orientation, and current housing assignment (see Table 1). The participants lived in the campus residential areas, but because some do not offer gender-inclusive housing, these parts of campus were significantly underrepresented in the study. Most participants lived in doubles, and a few lived in singles. Almost none lived in break housing.
FINDINGS
Participants’ responses were characterized by several common themes. The important factors in their housing decision-making process were their ability to choose a roommate, the availability of gender-inclusive bathrooms and gender-inclusive housing, and living in an LGBTQIA+-supportive environment. The least important factors were the availability of break housing and living in a single or in suite-style housing. Additionally, the intersections of LGBTQIA+ identities with race and disability had significant impacts on students’ choices and experiences.
Most Important Factors
At the beginning of the interviews, we asked students to discuss their current housing assignment and what led them to live there. In these open-ended responses, nearly 70% indicated that the most important factor in choosing where to live was related to their sexual and gender identities, such as having LGBTQIA+ roommates or floormates, gender-inclusive bathrooms, and an LGBTQIA+-supportive climate in their residence hall or residential area.
Living in a supportive environment. About 20% of the participants, mostly students who lived outside of gender-inclusive housing, cited a desire to live in the same hall or area as their friends as a critical factor in their housing decision. About 8% of participants spoke about specific areas where they did not want to live because they perceived students there as being less supportive of LGBTQIA+ individuals. More than 15% described having limited agency in where they lived because of their class standing, time away from the university, transfer status, or the need to compete for the limited singles on campus. About 18% felt that because they were trans or nonbinary and that living with a cis roommate would be awkward or potentially unsafe, they sought out housing options that would more likely pair them with other trans and nonbinary people. About 20% of first-year participants stated that they wanted to live in the LGBTQIA+ community in order to be in an explicitly queer and trans space with LGBTQIA+-focused events, but they were unable to get in because returning students can opt in first, and they typically fill the floor.
Being able to choose a roommate. Participants rated the ability to choose their roommate as one of the most important factors in their housing decision, as nearly all of them wanted to be out to their roommates and to live in as safe an environment as possible. For example, Ella, a White demisexual transfem sophomore, chose gender-inclusive housing because she “just wanted to have a queer roommate. And that was the highest chance of that happening.” Although it was not an explicit prompt, eight participants, or nearly a third of trans and nonbinary participants, indicated that being assigned housing based on their gender was less important than finding roommates who were supportive of their gender identity. Mike, a White transmasc panromantic ace flux first-year student, told us, “I don’t necessarily want to be rooming with a cis het man as a trans man. It feels less safe to me.” LJ, a White trans male junior, discussed the positive experience he had living with another trans man:
Before we even got to campus, me and my roommate were like, “I’m comfortable walking around in my boxers if you are.” And so we established that that’s okay . . . I don’t feel like every time I leave my room, I have to put my binder on. And I can go to the bathroom without having to do that and just exist in the space . . .
Because LJ could relate to his roommate based on their shared identity, he felt that he had a level of empowerment and liberation that might not have been possible with a roommate of a different gender.
While we did not ask participants how they identified their roommates, some described their process. KW, a White pansexual nonbinary/genderqueer first-year student, indicated that they used social media to identify prospective roommates. If someone shared their pronouns on social media or in their bio in online roommate-finding groups, they took that as a sign that the student would likely be a trans-supportive roommate. As KW explained,
People who are against using correct pronouns are not as accepting—that’s kind of a red flag. And chances are they would have avoided my profile anyways, so I feel like that kind of weeded out anybody that would have potentially been a risk for me.
For some participants, living in proximity to friends was more important than anything else. Lea, a multiracial nonbinary bisexual sophomore, would have preferred to live in a different residential area but wanted to be near their friends so chose to live in a part of campus that most participants said they actively avoided due to its culture of partying and toxic masculinity:
I don’t really love [the region of campus I live in], but it was really my top choice because I have a pretty small friend group. They all live here mostly out of convenience because [of] the dining halls and proximity to classes and stuff, and I’m a very antisocial, kinda shy person so I wanted to kind of stay close by them.
Having access to gender-inclusive bathrooms and housing. Because most campus academic buildings had relatively few gender-inclusive restrooms, some students chose to live in a space that had one so they could feel safe and comfortable. White transmasc queer sophomore Mason prioritized using them because it’s a space where he’s “not seen as a threat or a question.” Participants who did not feel that they needed gender-inclusive bathrooms still recognized the importance of such facilities to make individuals feel safe.
Along with criticizing the lack of gender-inclusive bathrooms in residence halls, participants complained about students whom they perceive as cis and heterosexual using the single-stall, gender-inclusive bathrooms on gender-inclusive floors. This might simply be a matter of convenience, and under university policy these bathrooms are open to everyone. Though participants did not report any negative interactions with these students, trans and nonbinary participants felt that they made it more difficult for those who really need such facilities. “I waited an hour once to have the specific individual bathroom because I want to take a shower where I’m comfortable,” said Alice, a junior White pansexual trans woman.
While most participants were out to peers about their sexual orientation and gender identity, some were more closeted and were hesitant to live in gender-inclusive housing or the LGBTQIA+ living-learning community for fear that doing this would out them, especially to their parents. Danny, an Asian queer female junior, did not see this housing as an option because she is not out to her parents: “I was afraid that they would be able to see the area that I lived in and that would be kind of difficult for me.” But Danny did eventually choose to live in gender-inclusive housing and was able to mask that from her family when they visited. “The decorations relating to the [LGBTQIA+] community are kind of subtle. So it’s not too bad, and my parents don’t really know English, so it’s like completely fine.”
A few participants were concerned about living in gender-inclusive housing because other students on campus might assume that anyone who lives on a gender-inclusive floor is LGBTQIA+. Evelyn, a first-year South Asian bisexual woman, faced this dilemma.
I [was] excited to apply but at the same time I need[ed] to really think about it because . . . that’s like the first question anyone on campus has . . . “where do you live?” . . . that’s obviously really stressful, especially if you’re outing yourself to people you don’t know.
Least Important Factors
While no decision-making factors were considered completely unimportant, some were rated lower than others. The least important factors included living in break housing, the availability of suite-style housing, and having a single room. Those not currently living in gender-inclusive housing were slightly more likely to prioritize suite-style housing and break housing but significantly more likely to prioritize living in a single.
While break housing was rated as moderately important, participants felt that they had relatively affirming families to go home to during breaks. The few who did prioritize break housing, including the one currently living in break housing, were mainly out-of-state students who often chose to stay on campus since going home involved a significant distance and cost, especially for short breaks like Thanksgiving.
Participants noted that suite-style housing was not an important factor for them, largely due to location, architecture, and style, and that finding several other suitemates to make a space feel queer-inclusive can be a challenge. LGBTQIA+ students may want a single room as a safe space where they can have privacy. However, some students, like Marlboro, a sophomore multiracial lesbian trans woman, commented that having a roommate improved their mental health, encouraged them to be more social, and helped them hold themselves accountable.
I much prefer having a double personally. I would not have said that when I first came to campus. I’m an only child. I was really wanting a single and then I just realized that I prefer having a roommate. I prefer not just living in solitude all the time . . . I wouldn’t want to give that up for a single.
Experiences of Students of Color
Some LGBTQIA+ students of color, like Silas, an Asian nonbinary transmasc junior, were torn between living in the LGBTQIA+ living-learning community or in a race-based one and ultimately decided to live in the LGBTQIA+ community:
There was a part of me that really was tempted to go with the Asian American [LLC], but I also felt that I probably wouldn’t be comfortable with people just because if they had found out something like if I was nonbinary . . . What if my future roommate wouldn’t be okay with that and stuff? . . . It comes boiling down to the choices of: Do I choose between something that I would connect more with culturally and racially versus something that I connect more and more with my gender identity and sexuality? . . . [My race] is an aspect of my identity that I’ve been comfortable with for all the years of my life versus my gender and sexual identity, which I haven’t had the chance to really explore and express so much so at home.
Lea made the opposite decision, recognizing that being in a race-based LLC was more important than being in an LGBTQIA+ community after living with a White U.S.-born roommate during their first year. Lea realized that they wanted to be around other students who spoke their first language and felt empowered being in that particular LLC.
Since a lot of my life has been surrounded by people who either don’t speak English as their first language or people who aren’t American, it was very culturally disorienting . . . When you are on the phone and you’re speaking a foreign language . . . It feels a little embarrassing, I guess. Even though it’s not something you should be embarrassed about.
Experiences of Students with Disabilities
The beginning of college is a time when students may seek a disability diagnosis or look for new accommodations or support for a disability. Some students with attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder wanted to live in residential areas that were quieter and less hectic so they could study without distraction. Ross, a Latino cis male homosexual sophomore, spoke to the challenges he faced in his first year of college because of having a disability: “I actually ended up failing just because I hadn’t been diagnosed with ADHD yet. So my first year just didn’t go well. I was gonna get dismissed academically, but then I appealed it.” While Ross was able to continue at the university, he could not select housing at the same time as other current students. Luckily for him, he was still able to get the housing he wanted after the appeal. SJ, a White agender queer sophomore, likewise did not have much choice about where they could live on campus because they had taken a gap year for medical reasons. “I only got on-campus housing because I had an accommodation that allowed me to.”
Location also played a part in students’ decisions about where to live. The main residence halls with gender-inclusive housing are on a steep hill, which makes them largely inaccessible to students with mobility problems. While no one cited a mobility-related disability, several participants noted that the current locations of gender-inclusive housing do not serve all students.
DISCUSSION
This study speaks to the importance of recognizing that LGBTQIA+ students often have particular housing needs, including gender-inclusive housing, gender-inclusive bathrooms, and LGBTQIA+-affirming roommates. Participants’ comments emphasize the value of safety, comfort, and the ability to be more of their authentic selves when living in LGBTQIA+-supportive environments.
Among participants in this study, gender-inclusive doubles appeared more popular than suite- or apartment-style housing, though most institutions that offer this type of housing today limit it to suites and apartments (Beemyn, 2024). Students may have rated the ability to live in a single as a lower priority in their housing choices because they recognized that the high demand for them meant it would be an unlikely option. However, since suite-style housing (where singles are more readily available) was not a popular housing choice either, it may be that students generally preferred having a roommate.
Many participants acknowledged that they had hesitations about living in an LGBTQIA+ residential community for fear of being targeted or unintentionally outed. Most of these participants ultimately chose to live in the LGBTQIA+ living-learning community, which reflects how members of the community seek to protect one another and are careful not to disclose residents’ sexual and gender identities. Furthermore, the fact that these students decided to live in the learning community despite their concerns about being outed may mean that this issue was even more of an impediment for the LGBTQIA+ students who chose to live elsewhere.
Participants often discussed their lack of agency in the housing process. First-year students are guaranteed campus housing, so they have greater agency in the process, but many felt that they were not given enough information about gender-inclusive housing to decide if it was the best option for them. Returning students are not guaranteed to receive campus housing, so they were much more likely to discuss a lack of agency in terms of the uncertainty of getting the type of housing they wanted. Transfer students and students who take time off from the institution choose housing after other students do, so they expressed anxiety about being forced to take whatever housing was left and potentially not living near their friends or close to where they have classes.
It would seem that break housing would be a high priority for participants, but that was not the case. This may be because a majority of the university’s students come from within the state, which has one of the greatest acceptance rates of students of same-sex sexuality (Pew Research Center, 2014) and is estimated to have one of the highest LGBTQ+ populations among U.S. states and the District of Columbia (Williams Institute, 2019). While break housing was not an important factor for most of the participants, it was critical to a few, and it may be a vital lifeline at other higher education institutions, especially in those states where the off-campus environment can be extremely hostile for young LGBTQIA+ individuals. Since many U.S. states have restricted the rights of trans and nonbinary individuals by banning gender-affirming care for youth and passing laws that base access to public bathrooms on sex assigned at birth, higher education institutions are becoming one of the few places where students in or from these states can hope to be respected and treated in keeping with their gender identity. Thus, break housing may be essential for students to be able to escape negative environments in their home communities and continue to access support systems.
Regardless of state law, the federal landscape for LGBTQIA+ individuals, particularly on college and university campuses, continues to shift. Trans and nonbinary students seek to gain or maintain recognition of their gender markers, while the federal government seeks to recognize only two sexes as assigned at birth (GLAD Law, 2025), which may significantly affect how institutions handle housing selection processes. Rollbacks of anti-discrimination protections can have direct impacts on LGBTQIA+ individuals in housing, employment, harassment cases, healthcare, and more (GLAD Law, 2025; Gretzinger et al., 2025). The current presidential administration has sought to halt federal funding to institutions that “promote gender ideology” (GLAD Law, 2025, para. 26); end diversity, equity, and inclusion programs in schools; and prohibit trans female students from participating in athletic programs (GLAD Law, 2025; Gretzinger et al., 2025). As this study was conducted before the 2024 presidential election, students may now be even more concerned about being outed and targeted.
Limitations
Like all studies, ours has limitations. First, the lack of research on this topic prevented us from comparing our results to those of other studies, so we do not know the extent to which our findings are representative. It is likely that studies involving smaller colleges or institutions in states that are more hostile toward LGBTQIA+ students would reach some different conclusions. Our study also overrepresents students who are living in gender-inclusive housing in one residential area and underrepresents students who live in other housing arrangements and other areas of the campus.
Recommendations
Recognizing that institutions vary in the number of residence halls, facility types, occupancy demand, and student culture, it may be an impossible feat to meet all the housing needs of LGBTQIA+ students. Additionally, state and federal laws may now or in the future prohibit institutions from providing gender-inclusive housing, LGBTQIA+ living-learning communities, and other services for LGBTQIA+ students. However, there are many significant steps that institutions can take to support these students in campus housing.
Residential institutions should not only offer gender-inclusive housing and an LGBTQIA+ living-learning community but should also consider their availability and accessibility. Institutions should examine the placement of these housing options in different parts of the campus and in different types of buildings and then address how these housing options intersect with other housing needs (break housing, elevators, etc.). Our findings suggest that higher education institutions should also expand gender-inclusive housing to residence halls with double rooms.
Careful thought should be given to the residential space that is devoted to gender-inclusive housing or living-learning communities and how non-residents may engage with that space, especially when it comes to LGBTQIA+ iconography and the campus community’s ability to identify a particular floor or wing as being for LGBTQIA+ residents. Institutions should consider the contexts of residence halls in the placement of an LGBTQIA+ residential community. These contexts may include the student culture in the residential area where such a community exists; how much foot traffic that community may get due to lounges, stairwells, or other amenities; and who the residents are in its neighboring floors or wings. Institutions should consider how publicly the LGBTQIA+ living-learning communities should be specified on institutional websites, in print and digital advertisements, and in other media. Colleges and universities need to balance student safety and privacy with the responsibility to enable prospective residents to know where LGBTQIA+ living-learning communities are, as location is a primary factor in the housing decision-making process. Additionally, since many participants were not out to their families, LGBTQIA+ living-learning communities should have guidelines for the iconography placed on walls and bulletin boards so that students are not inadvertently outed when their families come to visit.
Residential departments should also consider how class standing, transfer status, or being a re-entering student can affect selection to spaces in these communities. Departments may choose to hold spaces back to ensure that all students have an opportunity to join these communities.
Given that many of the participants expressed significant anxiety about finding LGBTQIA+-supportive roommates, institutions should help these students meet prospective roommates for on- and off-campus housing. Departments can work with LGBTQIA+ student organizations to host roommate mixers and offer roommate-finding software. These efforts should be designed in ways that do not require LGBTQIA+ students to come out to possible roommates in order to get a sense of their attitudes toward LGBTQIA+ individuals.
Conclusion
This study is tremendously relevant to student affairs practitioners, who must continue to improve their understanding of how students navigate the institutional systems that practitioners develop and work to uphold. While inclusion is a core value of the field, the processes that student affairs departments develop, including those for housing selection, can create further obstacles for students who are already at a disadvantage. Trans activists and scholars have highlighted the multitude of challenges faced by trans and nonbinary students (Nicolazzo & Marine, 2015), and the current study reinforces the need for accessibility, flexibility, and transparency in housing selection options and processes. By remaining committed to educating themselves and to making changes based on that learning, student affairs professionals are better situated to adjust and, at times, dismantle systems that do not serve the needs of all students.