Queer Spaces: Why We Need Them And How To Keep Them Alive
The first time I felt truly comfortable in my queer skin was during my freshman year of college.
I had, somehow, without actually coming out, attracted the attention of the queer kids in my architecture studio lab. I don’t know if it was my shyness, or my jackets, or just my fucking face, but we all ended up hanging out.
Anyway, one day my new friends invited me to go out clubbing with them in West Hollywood (WeHo, as I would learn to call it.) They told me it would be a gay club, and little repressed me decided, “why the hell not?”
My very first gay club. When I went that first time the sign was still in angry red…I feel old
It was during this night that I learned of the magic of Pavilions, the necessity of pockets and flats when you go out clubbing if you want to be comfortable, and most importantly, the sheer magic that you feel when you are suddenly surrounded by people who are just like you. Up to that point in my life, I had never felt so free and perfectly, perfectly happy. It was that very night that I decided to come out. And, little by little, I did come out. I started dating a girl not too long after that would become my wife. I eventually started going to the Pride Center on my campus and joined E-boards. I started doing research and learning more about my community beyond what was shown to me on The L Word. And now, roughly ten years after going out that first night, I am writing this account for a queer online magazine that I founded because I just can’t get enough of this world that has been opened to me. This world, with its heartwarming stories and some of the saddest, most tragic stories you can come across, this world full of some of the best people I have ever met...this world means so much to me.
Perhaps it would have happened eventually, but this queer blossoming was expedited with my first visit to that nightclub in WeHo. I am not the first or the last person who will have a similar experience. However, gay bars are not (and should not) be the only places that we find love and acceptance.
LGBT centers are places where we can grow into ourselves, and understand where we stand in a place that (should be) nurturing and safe. Neighborhoods like the newly minted transgender cultural district in San Francisco and communities present in WeHo, Long Beach, Palm Springs, San Diego, Los Angeles, and the like offer safe places for queer folx to live, work, and play. These places are necessary for our well-being, and therefore it is important that we fight for the spaces that we have and work towards creating a more diverse landscape for our community.
There are movements to protect LGBTQ places of historical importance like the Stonewall Inn and the Black Cat, but it’s not enough to stop there. We need to fight for the survival of our existing meeting spaces and shops. “Fighting” comes in a lot of forms, and the easiest way to “fight” for our spaces is by supporting our spaces and small business owners. It means shopping from them as we can and, if they find trouble from new development and/or gentrification, rallying behind them however we can. A prime example is The Factory in West Hollywood, a club that has been open since 1974. It’s a staple in WeHo and one of the last remaining clubs to offer a real Girl’s Nights on Santa Monica Boulevard. Thanks to community support, it has been protected from complete demolition. A mall will be added and the club itself will be altered, but plans as of now have it still standing into the future.
The Factory
We can’t wait until assets in our communities are in danger to protect them, though. We need to actively support new ideas and business owners whose goals are to enrich the community with a diverse offering of queer spaces. Businesses like the Eastside Cafe, Stokely’s Cafe and Social House, and Cuties Coffee gives us alternatives to bars where we can vibe with our community over coffee, workshops, movies, and more.
When we support queer spaces, we support our community’s autonomy and well-being. We are creating a framework for the next queer kid to come into themselves in a safe community. We are creating more job opportunities, increasing our safety net, and broadening our living spaces. And, besides, hanging out with our community is just plain fun. Where else are you going to find such creative, colorful, diverse, fucking awesome people? We are the juice and the salt of the earth and the butter on the damn popcorn. When we are together and healthy and happy, there’s no limit to what we can do. A great way to ensure that we are together, healthy, and happy is to ensure that we have places to go to find resources and community.
So, next time you have a chance to support a queer space, do it and bring another queer person along with you to share the joy.