The blue light from the screen flashes in front of my 11-year-old eyes, screaming the word “queer” in hues of red to purple. Instinctively, I deleted the tab, and my search history, and even wished to delete my memory, if that was even possible. My sticker-covered Chromebook was slammed shut by my anxious hands, in disbelief of what the BuzzFeed quiz told me.
Discovering that I was gay was equally empowering as it was earth-shattering. Throughout middle school, I found myself in the in-between, knowing that I was different but unable to come to terms with who I truly was. In order to navigate these complex feelings, I searched for people who I could trust, people who understood: other queer individuals.
Queer spaces are a crucial part of what makes the LGBTQ+ community unique. To take something that has historically ostracized us, to resist and recognize it as the common experience that connects us all, to create a chosen family out of our shared identity: that is what makes queerness so beautiful.
In our progressive society where LGBTQ+ identities are slowly becoming more accepted, the need for queer-centric spaces is diminishing. Now, everywhere is a “queer space.” While societal progression is vital in protecting queer individuals, how can we preserve the queer spaces that have originally foraged that path of progression?
Why are queer-centric spaces important?
Historically, LGBTQ+ individuals have been targeted and persecuted for their differences in gender expression and attraction. Trauma from hateful beliefs can severely impact a person’s ability to come to terms with their queerness and develop severe self-hatred and other long-lasting issues.
“I was told so many days–years of my life–that I cannot be gay or queer or anything like that. I actually started to tell myself that there’s no way that I’m actually going to be gay. Every day was like, ‘I’m gonna wake up tomorrow, and I will be straight,’” Everywhere Is Queer founder Charlie Sprinkman said.
Community is the answer and hope for countless LGBTQ+ identifying people, allowing them to know that they are not alone in their struggles and how they feel.
“There would be parties and events, music shows geared towards women and geared towards queer folks. There was always something happening, [parties] with different vibes and spaces to go to and not have to explain who you are. It’s important to feel comfortable around other folks with similar identities as you,” Gender and Sexuality Alliance (GSA) club advisor and English teacher Dy Nguyen said.
When I joined Sequoia’s GSA, the immediate connection I felt toward the other club members was vibrant, even over Zoom; everyone within that call completely understood the internal conflicts I was facing as a “baby gay” and supported me through my journey of self discovery, simply by opening up a space for us to gather and relate to one another.
“It’s this feeling. It’s a community and a connection that is just so different [from anything else],” Nguyen said. “In having those spaces where you’re with other people who understand that experience, that history, all the rights that we have fought for, being around other folks who have struggled in a similar way with you, that connects people in a way that is not always easy to explain, it makes you feel like you belong there.”
Those that have connected with queer spaces and experienced community in their identity are often deeply changed by their interactions, even using it as motivation to change their local environment, delve into activism and change the scope of LGBTQ+ acceptance for other queer youth that may need a safe space to express themselves.
“Queer communities have absolutely lifted my spirits and allowed me to be seen as my true authentic self.” Sprinkman said. “We all deserve friends.”
Where did queer spaces go?
In an increasingly progressive society, queer identities are becoming normalized and more accepted. Often, stores will have a pride flag on display or queer-coded art on the walls to show support and advocacy for the community. This way, an LGBTQ+ person can know that the establishment is a safe space for them to be.
While this is beneficial in increasing safety for queer people, it can also have an adverse effect that diminishes the value of historically queer-affiliated or queer-owned businesses.
“There’s less ways in which you’re ostracized or pushed out, and that marginalization then allows you to then group together and find strength [in community]. When we’re being accepted and brought in, there’s less of a need to group together for strength. So then less people go into a lesbian bar like the Lexington, and they end up closing down,” Nguyen said.
Those that consider themselves allies of the LGBTQ+ community often engage in queer culture and get involved in queer spaces. While this support can help these businesses thrive, the vibrancy of the queer community in those spaces can be “watered down.”
“It’s really cool to know that there’s a lot more spaces that are open to gay people, but at the same time, why are we toning down on these spaces that are specifically for [the LGBTQ community]?” sophomore Abril Bustos said. “I find myself [seeking out queer spaces] to be with people like me, so I’m annoyed that these places are getting pushed away or closed down.”
Taking a different outlook, junior Jack Colgan expresses how allyship from straight people can still be a deeply empowering side of the LGBTQ+ community.
“I think it’s positive too. Since straight people are helping out the community more than ever, […] we have become so progressive in our ideologies and the way we view [differences] in people. We [have] become a very accepting society,” Colgan said.
Even with our progressive society, especially in California, acceptance and support for the LGBTQ+ community is not positive everywhere.
“It’s important to acknowledge that there is a lot of backstabbing that’s happening right now, especially in Florida, for example with the “Don’t Say Gay” bill. It’s important to acknowledge that things aren’t always super perfect, and while it’s super great that we’re moving forward, in a lot of places, that’s not entirely true,” junior Johnny Berry said.
How can we uplift small queer communities and be an authentic ally?
Being wary of the commercialization of the LGBTQ+ community and possible exploitation of queerness by allies, Berry offers a perspective on how we can navigate radical acceptance of queerness while maintaining the value in queer-spaces.
“It’s new territory,” Berry said. “I think it could be the best of both worlds where you have a bunch of allies, and you also have a lot of queer centric stuff and […] queer culture. […] You could still have all these allies who might be straight and cis, but still have a queer environment [that is very] queer centric.”
Many allies express support by spending quality time with their queer friends and even attending pride parades with them. While doing so, reflect and recognize your own privilege and experience as someone who isn’t queer and use that perspective to amplify the voices of those who have been historically silenced.
“Engage in the culture, make sure you’re using slang [correctly], respect people and don’t [categorize them] as ‘accessories.’ A lot of allies can tokenize gay people when you should be respecting that person’s autonomy and their own wants and needs. They are their own person and shouldn’t just be like your little ‘gay best friend,’” Berry said.
Allies help queer people thrive. Just as queer people need other queer people to get by, it’s the diversity in the LGBTQ+ community and the alliances of straight and gay people that helps our marginalized group be uplifted.
“The queer community truly would not be where it is today without our allies,” Sprinkman said. “We need the ally community to help us. We need them to support us, to see us, to advocate for us [and] to put money towards the queer community.”
What is EIQ?
Everywhere Is Queer is an online resource founded by Charlie Sprinkman that makes finding queer safe spaces easy. Through the organization’s website and app, users can find local establishments that are queer-owned or gay-friendly, making sure that every person can go to a place where they can fully be themselves.
“A big reason why I wanted to start Everywhere Is Queer is to [help people that were like me],” Sprinkman said. “Even if you’re in the closet, or you’re still trying to figure out your queerness, I hope that you maybe can go sit in a coffee shop and just see queer people exist. See how that makes you feel. See queer people [be successful and happy] in society and in the workforce.”