Marsha P. Johnson. Sylvia Rivera. Bayard Rustin.
During a presentation at the national conference this year, Marsha, Sylvia, and Bayard were noted in the speaker’s opening remarks when mentioning a need to recognize our queer elders. I’ve been bothered by that ever since, and I’m not entirely sure why.
Did the effort just feel lazy?
Instead of looking over the last 75 years to see who stood out as pioneers in the queer rights movement – not to say these three were not – the easiest thing to do was to simply look to queer icons and drop them into the presentation. They’re recognizable to most people. Bayard in particular, as his biopic had been released the previous November. Talking about queer elders is easy when you can point to people even young queer architects are aware of. However, choosing queer icons feels like a bit of a crutch.
Did recognizing Marsha and Sylvia buy into the belief that queer liberation started with the Stonewall Riots in 1969?
I’m not sure when, how, or why this happened, especially since the fight for queer rights (gay rights in the day) started long before Stonewall and has extended far past with no end in sight. Harry Hay founded The Mattachine Society in 1950. In 1965, Frank Kameny, who was fired during the Lavender Scare, led a picket for gay rights at the White House, with protesters in suits and dresses. Fast forward to Harvey Milk’s election and the defeat of the Briggs Initiative. And even to Larry Kramer’s co-founding of ACT UP at the start of the AIDS crisis.
The Stonewall Riots weren’t even the first riots. Just the one we know about because of the coverage in the underground press at the time and the resulting Pride parade the following year to mark the anniversary. No one hears about the Compton Cafeteria riot in San Francisco in 1966, a response to the harassment of trans women and drag queens by local police.
Did this bother me because it felt like a poor attempt at lifting up individuals who were part of marginalized communities without realizing they were in some way marginalizing everyone else?
As a gay man, I’m aware that the gay community hasn’t been as friendly to others within the queer community, including other gay men who didn’t fall into the gay white stereotype. Consequently, we need to be conscientious of opportunities to highlight contributions made by the more marginalized within the community. But at what expense when recognizing queer elders?
Do we ignore people like Milk and Kramer? Do we skip over Edith Windsor, who fought so hard to have Section 3 of the Defense of Marriage Act repealed and her marriage recognized by the federal government? What about James Obergefell and John James, making recognition of queer marriage possible within every state? Or John Waters and George Takei, for that matter?
Or was this simply a missed opportunity for the speaker to share who they consider to be their queer elders and ask the same of the audience?
I asked a friend about queer elders – clearly a sign this was bothering me – and his response was that an elder should be a role model for you and someone you aspire to emulate. Someone that you feel a personal connection to, whether you know them or not. He also said he considers Nathan Lane as a role model, which really explains a lot.
But what he didn’t say was Marsha P. Johnson. Nor would I. I’m not even sure who a queer elder would be for me. Within the queer architecture community, queer elders didn’t exist. No one wanted to out themselves. Then there’s the loss of potential queer architecture elders during the AIDS crisis. How do we find someone to look up to that looks like us if they aren’t willing to be out or were taken away?
However, looking back and thinking this through, I have been around so many different wonderful (and not so wonderful) people that I don’t know if I could pinpoint a single queer elder, the one person I look to for inspiration. I suspect I’ve taken bits and pieces from the various queer individuals I’ve interacted with, no matter how briefly. I think back to the volunteers at the AIDS Resource Center Food Pantry who taught me what bravery in the face of devastation looks like and what it means to stand up for yourself and fight for others. At the same time, I’ve met people younger than me recently who I would aspire to be and wish I had known when I was younger.
But then again, I am getting to that age where maybe I get to be the queer elder, which is frightening on many different levels. I have achieved homo emeritus status after all. So perhaps I should not let it bother me so much, keep my mouth shut, and say: “Yes. Recognize your queer elders. Now go get Daddy a martini.”
