“I didn’t know where all the people like me were, or how I would even talk to them if I saw one in the wild. All of that changed during the training session for first-time Rock Camp volunteers.”
“I wanted this camp to turn me into a rock star.”
From April 26th ’til April 29th, 163 of you and 35 of us went to the mountains for a weekend of kickass fun and transformation. LET’S TALK ABOUT IT.
We wanted to sit down and share stories with you around this virtual campfire to somehow express one little piece of what it means to be queer and a person of color in this crazy, crazy world.
If you’re going camping, you really need to have a pocket knife.
Activities include eating mystery meat, re-enacting the holocaust, performing 15-minute Shakespeare adaptations on a cart, writing in my diary, and crying. Mostly crying.
The last thing I want when facing 200 other lesbians in the sun-filled woods is to look like I was cooked to rare and then set free at the Jersey Shore.
If you like lesbian history as much as I do, then you’ll love all these books about queer life in various towns, states, cities and countries. Your input is welcome!
“My awkwardness should have followed me along to Girl Scout camp, but somehow I managed to shed most of it in the 40 miles between the city and that patch of unremarkable forest.”
“I don’t remember the names of most of the people I met that week. Except for his: Tuck.”
When the revolution comes, you’ll need to know how to set stuff ablaze! Also, you’ll want S’mores.
“I would’ve cried if someone hadn’t started singing, and then someone else joined in.”
Manhattan is a very good place to be a girl who likes girls.
“Well guys, we’ve made it to the end of the summer in one piece, except for a few campers who are lepers.”
From “Boston Marriages” to Second Saturdays at Machine, the Boston area has always been kind to the Sapphicly inclined.
Cities wanna be her.
“Within the violence of invisibility there was also a sense of liberation and expansiveness, like we could just make everything up as we go along.”
Even when someone doesn’t know the range of the artistic revolution that was the Harlem Renaissance, they know the name. They know writers like Claude Mckay or singers like Ethel Waters but they may not know them as Queer Black Americans. Why is this?
With recipes for vegan Cincinnati Chili, Australian Fairy Bread and Puerto Rican Tostones!
“I feel like yelling at people,” she told me. I didn’t really grasp then that she meant that. This was the very first time. This was the day after Easter.