#i love the queer flag but my god it has TOO MANY STRIPES

[pansyboybloom]

Real Queer America: LGBT Stories from Red States, by Samantha Allen - A Review (8 out of 10)

"That's precisely the question we asked ourselves on November 9th. To stay, or not to stay? I found my answer at the top of the pride flag: there's no way of course that the color of its first stripe was a commentary on our geographically divided political climate. Red didn't mean Republican and blue didn't mean Democrat until the year 2000 anyway. Red is simply the first color in the rainbow, not a sign from the cosmos for me personally. But back when Gilbert Baker first designed that now ubiquitous emblem of LGBT rights in 1978 he did want that red stripe to signify life."

Samantha Allen, a reporter, wife, and transgender woman who was raised in Utah amidst the heart of the Mormon Church and left the South and its redness behind after beginning her transition, asked herself the questions that many Americans, especially queer ones, asked themselves after Donald Trump's win in the United States Presidential race in 2016. But, instead of moving out to Canada, Samantha decided to move down. Down to Utah, Texas, Indiana, and other red states that had seemingly made it clear that she and people like her weren't wanted, to answer a question that she couldn't shake:

Why weren't the Southern queers leaving?

"What makes an oasis, an oasis?"

In Real Queer America, Allen snakes through the south to pockets of queer safe havens ranging from queer bars in small rural towns, to LGBT shelters across from Mormon temples, to protests in Austin, TX, and places of safety throughout all of red America, no matter how small

As a Southerner, this book called to me. It was written with love, with the respect that only a Southern queer can give to other Southern queers. Allen examines the parts of the queer South that those outside its borders might struggle to understand, like LGBT youth political groups that work with the Mormon church to secure transgender rights in Utah. The chapter on Utah struck me in particular. I won't pretend to have any good opinions of the Mormon establishment, but the fondness Allen has for the community who raised her, even after it hurt her, is mind-blowing. Hearing from people like an ex-Mormon radical who works hand in hand with the church to secure LGBT safety, a mother who is deeply supportive of her transgender son because of her Mormoness, not despite it, a gay youth rights advocate who stated in the heart of Mormonism out of an unshakable faith in the goodness in the people of Utah, and, most remarkable, a trans man who has been told by the church that, should he continue his medical transition, he would be excommunicated, but chooses to love God anyways.

Of course, another favorite chapter was that on Texas. As a Texan, I am all too familiar with names like Paxton and Abbott, but also Wendy Davis and the Briggle family. Allen shows the Briggle family as human, and continues that humanity into her trek into the Rio Grande Valley, an often forgotten part of the state, demonized by both the North for its poverty and the South for its tie to immigration from Mexico. Allen approaches the complexities of race interacting with queerness with attempted grace, but her analysis seems to fall flat-- something she acknowledges later on, in Indiana, in which she has in-depth conversations with a black trans woman on how while Allen may feel safe holding hands with her wife here, her blackness will forever keep the 'queer eutopia' she lives in from truly being safe.

She tells Allen: "There is a difference, it seems, between an oasis and a eutopia. When you're in a desert, an oasis can be a single well of water in the sand, or in this case, one college town with an incredible queer bar. A watering hole doesn't make the desert safe, it just makes it habitable. Even then, when you arrive at the refuge that is Bloomington, so much of your experience here depends on the identities you bring with you. And eutopias? Well, eutopias don't exist. If they did, every LGBT person in the country would move there, and queer making would end."

Allen also carries some of the uncomfortable, if not plain disheartening, pro-veteran beliefs quintessential to the South, spending a long time speaking in depth with veterans surrounding Trump's trans military ban. She repeatedly references a shirt she saw while at an Austin rally: I fought for your right to hate me. The reverence she holds and the anger she feels for veterans was upsetting at times and showed further Allen's privilege.

Still, Allen's beliefs need not be perfect in a book about how the Northern need for perfection leads to the Southern LGBT community being abandoned. This abandonment is mentioned in the Indiana chapter when discussing Mike Pence and his 'return to religious freedom' act, which lead to North wide economic protests and boycotts-- that affected the queers of Indiana far more economically than it did Pence. It was grassroots organizations and local state fighters that pushed back the collection of bills, and many, like the ones Allen interviewed, felt abandoned by blue states that seemed to care more about protesting through inaction than action.

Grassroots education, safety, activism, and community are a recurring theme in Real Queer America, unsurprising to any rural or Southern queer. One such example is the Back Door, a queer bar-- not gay, but specifically queer, an active choice maybe by the "dyke daddy" of the club-- that serves as a bastion of fun and sex in a rural town, but also as a place to come together and practice activism.

"The 'Back Door' is a perfect example of the red state queer ethos-- that being politically active is a responsibility, not a choice."

Allen stresses one thing above all: community. The queer chosen family, and the queering of friendships, she argues, are just as threatening to the average bigot as her sex life or her gender identity, if not more. Together, Southern queers thrive-- something many Northerns don't see. Allen critiques Northern journalism from her own writing background, citing that Northerners only care about Southern queer lives when a politician is passing a bathroom bill, a gunman is shooting up a night club, or a high school has their first trans homecoming king, not out of a desire to share his joy, but to further stress how backward the South is. Amidst the shared meals with bisexuals in Tennessee, watching the dancing queers of the Back Door, the support groups across from Mormon temples, the protests in Austin, and more, Allen asks the reader, is the most radical thing to do as a queer person to simply live and love? Is living, thriving, fighting together, arm in arm-- is all of this what being queer in the South means? She finds answers in each place she goes, and while I will leave her answer up to the reader, I find her comment when meeting with the trans cafe owner of Allen's college youth to shine clear:

"Watching Rachel run her own small business in south central Indiana was my first vision of a future where I turn out okay."

Please, check to see if your local library or bookstores have Real Queer America before buying on Amazon! Let's support local reading!

#real queer america #real queer america: lgbt stories from red states #real queer america lgbt stories from red states #samantha allen #queer book recs #queer books #queer nonfiction #queer media #queer book #trans books #trans book #trans media #trans author #queer author #book review #queer book review #long post #ant reads

[dishsaop]

music recs bls. preferably nothin by straight men but based on ur entire vibe i dont think i have to worry abt that lol

ok firstly, please PLEASE listen to G.L.O.S.S., they only have one album but it FUCKS. (also i don't know Dyke Drama as well but its Sadie Switchblade from G.L.O.S.S.' solo work and the album I bought was really good) (EDITED TO ADD A READMORE BC HOLY SHIT)

also, basic queer punk hours here but Against Me! is always, always worth it. laura jane grace my hero and beloved

Neighborhood Brats is a female fronted punk band. Actually, Dirt Cult Records has a number of pretty cool artists - I can't speak to all their gender/sexualities but their music is good. Dan Padilla (the band not the man lmao), Needles//Pins, Dead Years, Postage and, Feral Trash. I can't remember if Dear Landlord and Shallow Cuts are with Dirt Cult (i dont THINK so) but I do know they overlap with Dan Padilla.

Fangbanger is a really cool pop-ish punk band, and I haven't been into real pop punk in a long time but I really like them. Troll 2 is kind of folk punk, and by the tone of this ask I think you'd like them. i have a few Propoghandi songs i like (thrash punk), if you like ska you like Streetlight Manifesto. The Muslims and Fea my roommate got me into and both are really cool punk bands - the muslims is a queer poc crunchy punk band and fea is a san antonio based latina all female band. Ramshackle Glory is an anarchist punk band. GOGOL BORDELLO HOW COULD I FORGET YOU romani punk band from lower east side manhattan. i had a Sainte Catherine's cd on repeat for like 4 months straight when i was a teenager and honestly i was so valid for that.

and of course theres always the ramones, the replacements, husker du, the minutemen, the dead kennedys, black flag, the menzingers, etc.

Leaving punk, I know I just commented on a post about basic music but i really do like Florence + The Machine. Rip. The Amazing Devil is a bit, like, well the dude from the Witcher is in it so that says something but sometimes I want a song I can soulfully and really awfully sing along to. My roommate got me into Gloryhammer, so like, if you want weird ass concept metal albums, there u go. i recently remembered Luca Turilli (also known as Rhapsody and Luca Turilli's Rhapsody) exists, i was OBSESSED with these metal songs as a kid. oingo boingo is weird. i also really like Trocadero (shut up shut upppp i know its the red vs blue band but they do have cool music let me live). be steadwell and Grace Petrie are very queer, if thats what youre after. Palehound is kinda indie but some of thier songs get stuck in my head really easily. Ratatat is an electronic band that fits nothing else in this post but. a vibe. i had an Unwoman phase as a kid after that Night Vale Weather.

some single songs i really like but know less about the artist, of scattered genres: Who Wears The Pants?? by Soko, My Gap Feels Weird by Superchunk, Numbers (I Can Only Count To Four) by Psychostick (hehehe), For an Old Kentucky Anarchist by The Orphans, Sober Intentions by Apes of the State, Coffee God and Cigarettes by Mischief Brew, I'm Against the Government by Defiance Ohio, You're Not The Only Bear I Fisted by Schmekel, Butch In The Streets by Tribe 8, Deep Love by Lady Lamb, Dark Days by Pup, Racing Stripes by Aesop Rock, Old Number Seven by The Devil Makes Three, I'm So Sick by Flyleaf, I Don't Wanna Be Funny Anymore by Lucy Dacus, Lake Pontchartrain by Ludo, Devil's Point by Wicked Shallows, TKO by Le Tigre, Transvestites Can Be Cannibals Too by Harley Poe, Providence by Poor Man's Poison, and Wildflowers by Gouge Away.

this was ABSOLUTELY more than you asked for but i thought about music and got really excited, im sorry. also again i dont know how many of these artists are cishet men but also like, i like them and IM neither cis nor het so

#m text #i could tag all these bands. im not going to.

[scatterpatter]

Corren in D4?

YES! MY BOY!

#my art #outfit prompts #corren #dnd ocs #i love the queer flag but my god it has TOO MANY STRIPES #enbyintegrity #okay im caught up but if i get more ill do them tomorrow- my wrists are a lil sore XD

[herrashmoo]

secondly, im not a tumblr teen. ive been on this website for god knows how long and ive been well versed in queer history. me calling them a pedophile, after a conversation with them resulted in them refusing to admit sexual imagery is not for children, them calling me a bootlicker and several other names, before getting wildly upset and blocking me, had nothing to do with their sexuality and everything to do with the fact that they couldnt tell me sexual imagery is not a thing for minors to consume period end of story. this is AFTER the fact i had been a bit more educated about pride and had ALREADY agreed where i went wrong. now about the sanitization of pride- thats wrong as well. dont get me wrong. but you cant seriously look me in the face and tell me that sexual imagery is not for minors. like- just that statement alone, right? so how is this such a controversy?

ugh okay I guess I’m gonna write A Thing. I’ll get into a proper response to your final questions but first, let’s do some context work.

first thing to make clear is that I know Jux irl, and I also want to make it pretty clear that they and I have pretty similar opinions here, I’m just slightly more likely to put my anger aside to reply to stuff. Do not get it twisted, rhetoric like the kind you were/are using is like, a big red flag for me, it’s the kind of shit reactionaries have been using for eons and like, were I in a less chill mood, I would’ve also likely written you off as a bootlicker troll. Their response was pretty aggressive but not completely misplaced, so I just want to make it clear that like, as another queer dude who is tired of seeing this shit every fucking May for the better part of a decade, I’m also exhausted and pissed off.

As for my claim of teenagerdom, I apologize if that offended, but you have to understand that, generally speaking, the loudest groups having this conversation on the regular are (1) right-wing reactionaries, TERFs, and their ilk trying to stir shit up (see: Operation Pridefall) and (2) young people who don’t have any context for Pride, often haven’t been, and only really have queer politic and history from tumblr and twitter threads featuring reactionary revisionism from the first group. When I see people engage in this conversation, I generally assume they’re in the latter group, as it helps me try to frame my responses in the best faith I can given how tired I am of this shit.

But that aside, sure. Kink isn’t for children. But provided there’s a parent accompanying this hypothetical child at Pride, their job is to explain and provide context for the things they can, and give a solid “you’ll learn more when you’re older” for the things they can’t. The Village People are all each in different kink gear, and as a kid I was told “they like to dress up, and there’s some costumes specifically for adults,” and I was good. I saw bare titties at festivals, smelled weed at concerts, saw bulge at the beach — these are normal human things that happen in the world, and having a responsible adult nearby to explain or provide context for them made them non-issues for me. I don’t think a kid seeing a pup hood is thinking anything more than “oh cool, that dude is dressed up as a dog.” Kids understand fantasy and make-believe. And especially as they age into their teenage years, withholding or sheltering them from knowledge about sex and sexuality can do real damage — hell, we’ve been having that conversation for over a century at least.

(Spring’s Awakening was first published in 1891 and was deeply censored in productions for the better part of a century, due to the content of the work, which is about how sheltering young teens (both straight and queer) from sexual content (and also mental health resources) leads them to try to figure shit out on their own and make catastrophic decisions that they don’t understand the consequences of until it’s too late. Great play, pretty great musical adaptation, wild that we keep rehashing its points like clockwork over a century after publication.)

But I am also of the opinion that Pride isn’t for children, as, while two decades of assimilationist politic would desperately try to argue otherwise, I am queer because I am sexually attracted to, and have sex with, other men. Pride is a response to the criminalization of queer sex acts, and so it is, in turn, a celebration of queer sex acts. So if someone wants to walk around in chaps and a jock, great! If someone wants to wear their pup gear or a harness or a rope tie or a vest, fuck yeah! It’s a space specially carved out for celebrating the queer experience — the original Pride flag (before it was simplified to make it easier to mass produce for profit, which, again, love seeing our culture made into product) had a pink stripe at the very top, specifically representing sexuality. It is, ostensibly, the thing that defines our community (at least the L G and B parts of it) as an outgroup against the mainstream society.

I think that, if you are uncomfortable with kink displays, or you’re uncomfortable with children seeing kink displays, then Pride is not for you or your children! Don’t go! There’s kid-friendly and sanitized versions of Pride in most major cities, do some research into your local/state Stonewall organizations and you can find more about them. But I’m already sick of having actual cops at Pride, I don’t need people who are uncomfortable with displays of sexuality also policing myself or any other queer person in a space they have spent decades carving out for themselves.

A final note — if you don’t understand why a queer person would blow up and completely write off your bullshit after calling them a pedophile, I urge you to do more reading, more listening. I know that in this brave new world of same-sex marriage equality and PrEP access that it’s hard to remember the collective trauma that the community has experienced, but this shit is inflammatory, you’re straight up spewing fightin’ words. The dude wearing a leather harness at Pride isn’t trying to corrupt any youth or fuck any kids, they’re just trying to live their shit, and I’m sorry that you and so many others have somehow decided that that’s an attack on a demographic of people who aren’t the audience for a celebration of sexuality. We’re not fucking pedophiles, and this “think about the kids” nonsense is some Reagan-era bullshit.

#the discourse