Guys and dolls.

I grew up in rural Alabama. Mom was divorced and was rarely home. I was skinny and a bit sensitive, so I was called "faggot" at school and "jenny woman" by my brothers. One way I found solace was to play with Ken and G.I. Joe dolls to escape into a fantasy world far away. In this world there were no artificial boundaries separating people from loving or being with anyone else. Thank God for my imagination.

As a grad student in art, I began making drawings related to the fantasy life I had with these dolls. I photographed them as references for the drawings. The photos, I found, truly represented what these dolls did for me as a kid. They became the art.

In September, as a new art department faculty member at Shelton State Community College in Tuscaloosa, Ala., I was asked to show my work. That's when the trouble began. Approved without comment, my show, "Double Duty," was installed on October 2. Within two hours, the gallery was full of students talking about the work. The next morning Shelton State's president showed up--"investigating a complaint," he said. The following Wednesday he sent word that the school was going to help me find a new venue in town that may be more suitable for my work. I said no thank you.

Against my wishes, the college took down my art, then offered to re-hang it in a second-floor classroom. I said no thank you: There's no way in hell I'll show in a classroom with exposed fluorescent lightbulbs. The final offer from the school's attorney was that they would provide some form of security, temporary lighting, and a sign in the first-floor gallery space--which was now empty--directing people to my show. They would not provide the invitations and reception they had previously agreed to, because they did not want to appear to endorse work that they had determined to be unsuitable for children. They didn't have to do this, the lawyer said. They were trying to be nice. I said no thank you.

I used to joke that if Bush got reelected, I'd move to Canada. Now, after enduing homophobic censorship, I am wondering if I should go ahead and move now. Then I think: My partner of more than 13 years has a great career at the University of Alabama at Birmingham. And I really love Alabama because of its terrain and a lot of its people. But do I still want to live in this beautiful but repressive state? I used to find it comforting that almost half of Alabamans vote Democratic. Now all I see is what the other half do with their time!

To me, the fact that my photographs have produced such a strong response is a testament to their effectiveness. These images represent characters that know no artificial boundaries of difference. The use of dolls seems to be more effective than using actual people, because of how we usually think of dolls: as vessels for our imagination and interpretations and as toys for children. Perhaps people fear if I change the meaning of these dolls with my images, then I will be indoctrinating children. But would the college have had the same objections if the dolls were killing each other or exhibiting some other aggressive behavior?

I've been told my work is too powerful for the South. But while I will try to get my work shown in other parts of the country, have I accomplished anything here? I have, if you count my resolve to fight even harder to get my work seen and not to be bullied into doing "more acceptable" work. I don't create art to piss people off; I create it because that's how I see the world. I am most satisfied with my work when I create a vision of potential, not of anger. I am not denying that my work is for like-minded people, but I do hope it has an influence beyond that sphere. Maybe the other half needs a little bullying sometimes.

Find a link to Trobaugh's Web site at advocate.com/html/issuelinks/issuelinks.asp.