LGBTQ+ REPRESENTATION IN FIVE MEMOIRS

 1. Body Counts: A Memoir of Politics, Sex, AIDS, and Survival by Sean Strub - This memoir is a personal account of the AIDS epidemic, and follows the authors life through a series of events that led him to the world of LGBTQ+ activism. There is a lot of discussion about politics, but there are also themes of friendship and love, coming of age, fear and hysteria, mental illness, and more. It also touched on finding a career without a formal college education, which was even more interesting to read about from the perspective of a gay man, as he kept his identity a secret for so long as to not complicate any opportunities that presented themselves. This memoir was a really enlightening first-hand account from a born and raised midwestern-er to politics-crazed entrepreneur, and teaches readers about the AIDS epidemic from a perspective that isn’t shared very often. It’s a beautiful memoir and more than anything, it makes you feel like you’re listening to an old friend tell their story. 

2. Prairie Silence: A Memoir by Melanie Hoffert - Prairie Silence is a metaphor for the silent plains of North Dakota, and it felt like a brilliant description of growing up queer in Nebraska and Wyoming too. This memoir was all too familiar, from the midwest gossip, to extreme caution in your hometown, to the religious undertones from people back home, to the romanticization of city life--it truly hit the hammer on the nail when it came to describing rural life. Hoffert grapples with the hard dichotomy of appreciating the anonymity that comes from living in the city and missing the familiarity of life back home. She brings her readers along on her journey of moving to the city, exploring her identity, missing home and moving back, forgiveness, reconciliation, and more. The best way to describe this memoir is that it feels like a warm hug from someone who understands you, especially if you grew up in a rural place but had big dreams for something more. 

3. In the Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado - This memoir is a beautiful, poetic, compelling, emotional, and just amazing story, written in short vignettes. The style is very different from the other memoirs on this list, but it is still a phenomenal piece. Machado recounts and explores a topic in this memoir that is often considered taboo, which is violence in same-sex relationships. Domestic violence is not often discussed in queer relationships but that is not to say that is doesn’t exist--and Machado recounts the devastation from her relationship with a toxic partner in a way that is heartbreaking, blissful, terrifying, and emotional in so many other ways. I truly cannot recommend this memoir enough, especially for folks who are a part of the community that prides themselves on love above all else. I don’t want to give away too much from this story because I truly believe everyone should read it so instead of summarizing it any further, I will tell y’all that there is an audiobook of this memoir, which is read by the author herself. If you want to hear a chilling story with narratives influenced by fairy tales, check it out. 

4. The Secret to Superhuman Strength by Alison Bechdel - Yet another non-traditional memoir, The Secret to Superhuman Strength is a graphic novel that intersects fitness and queerness in a way that is simply indescribable. This is a story of self-improvement, self-detriment, interdependence, transcendence, and more. The story is exceptional, as is the comic-style graphics. If y’all are anything like me, you probably haven’t read a lot of graphic novels and maybe have preconceived notions about them… Well, get over it, throw all of those ideas away, and take a chance on this one because it is so worth it. You might have heard of Alison Bechdel before too, as she is the creator of the “Bechdel Test,” which measures the representation of women in popular media. In general, this test asks whether a piece of media features at least two women who talk to each other about something other than a man, and whether or not these women are named, which is an easy way to gauge representation. If you read this memoir, keep the “Bechdel Test” in the back of your mind, because it’s super interesting. 

5. A Body, Undone: Living on After Great Pain by Christina Crosby - In our last unit, we explored disability and crip studies, as they intersect with queer theory. This memoir is a brilliant exploration of those two intersecting identities, written by an author who became disabled later in life. Crosby describes the myriad of emotions she experienced following a bicycle accident that left her paraplegic, and it is an interesting account of recognizing your own ableism while still grieving over what’s been lost after acquiring a disability. Crosby’s exploration of the body, relationships and sex, intimacy with her partner, losing her active lifestyle, and more, were beautifully written. It was also an interesting experience to read this in a time where COVID is disproportionality affecting marginalized communities, and more and more people are becoming disabled due to the effects of long-COVID. This memoir allowed me to confront my own ableism, while still empathizing with Crosby. This is a beautiful piece and  I highly recommend it. 

       

 

Cloey

 

 C’mon.  I’ve been standing here, money in hand, for 20 minutes—

wish there was an open seat…God; Scooby-Doo couldn’t match-up to that dog’s breath.

I’m not even sure that’s a costume!  Christ I’m a bitch.  Why am I being a bitch?  It’s

 Halloween, I should be enjoying myself—DAMN!  What do I have to do to get a drink

around here?  Take off my panties and non-challantly toss them in his face like he’s Eddie

fuckin’ Van-Halen?!  Ok, why does Waldo’s personal hooker get served before me?...Oh,

right, why on earth am I asking such a silly question.  Hey, maybe that’s why I have the attitude

of Medusa’s hair-do…everyone else is drunk and dumb, and I’m still waitin’ on Dicky McBall-

Sack, the one-headed bartender!  Shit.  Is this place’s policy “sluts slurp first” or what?  Whoa

dude, so not feelin’ the hobbit love.  Well, that was interesting…he wasn’t bad looking, I’m just

not in the fucking mood for pleasantries.  If I wasn’t being forced to play night watch for the

town drunks, I might’ve been more inclined to flirt back…instead of being such an ice-queen. 

God, finally; it’s about time this dill-weed took my money.  Of course, he couldn’t see me

without all my legs and half my ass hangin’ out.  Shit, I guess a medieval-style gown, with my

girls bouncin’ half-way out of it didn’t do it for him.  No taste.  No mystery.  Men don’t even

have to think about anything anymore—huh, probably ‘cause most women don’t want to think

about much either.  And then they wonder why every guy just strings ‘em and leaves ‘em;

because some of us don’t make them work for it anymore, so then they just get used.  Ok, Ken-

doll, drink on its way...or is there a plastic mound for his brain, too?  Jesus, ‘bout time…no, the

Tequila Rose is supposed to sit on top of the Butter shots—damn-it, whatever.  At least I have a

fuckin’ drink; now I can down this and maybe have some fun with the rest of the drunken freak

show.                  

 

    This is actually a monologue that I wrote when I was in my 20s, and the character that I bestowed the name "Cloey" upon is actually me. These were the thoughts and feelings that were running through my head one Halloween night, when I was out with friends. I could be a spit-fire in my younger years, yet, despite the hell-cat type thoughts, that's all they were, simply thoughts, never coming from that point, through to my mouth. I had a lot of anger mixed with a good deal of fear back then, and even though I may never have actually said these things, looking back, I feel as though those around me could see the chip I was carrying. This monologue, and the 20-something me came to mind immediately as I watched the video on the impact of D&D and the community that lives within the game play. As I listened to so many people speak of how this game allows them a place to release emotion, experience a freedom, and has even saved their lives, I thought of this monologue, and of me, in the pain I was going through then. I struggled through a very abusive relationship at that time (my first of two relationships of that kind which were utter nightmares), and I learned how to fall silent, how to keep my pain internalized. And when I wasn't merely silent, to say and do whatever I could to get them to stop. Stop calling me worthless, stupid, crippled, to stop throwing things and punching holes into walls, to just stop. And while in this monologue there is a great deal of sarcasm and humor, it was all there to hide a very deeply felt pain. Also, as I look back on this, having learned all that I have, I see the direct connotations, the explicit use of bodily imagery, not only taking on the form of humor, but in taking on the form of stereotyping. I was young, not feeling very good about myself, and I was categorizing, placing myself and the people around me that night into little boxes of what I was seeing them, as well as myself, as embodying. The ideas and theories in what makes up Queer Theory are so all encompassing, so impacting, I am grateful to have been a part of this experience this semester, because as I look back to that scared, angry kid I was, and I see the person I am now, I know some of it is owed to what has been taught to me. I am a Crip cisgender, I have epilepsy, I am blind in my left eye, I am resilient, I am a come-back-kid. I am beautiful in my skin, as I am, and as I continue to grow.  

Artist Spotlight: Michael Sharkey

After last week's dive into queer artistry, I felt compelled to look at other artists doing incredible work in tandem with their experience as part of the LGBTQIA+ community. 

Michael Sharkey is a photographer, writer, and videographer living in Brooklyn, NY working to illustrate the raw and authentic with his fascinating work Queer Kids. The series began in 2006 and is an amalgamation of photos and interviews that dive into what it means to simply exist as queer. Subjects are presented with strength, humor, and confidence that givers a fresh and unapologetic glance into identity. 

Raul from Queer Kids

Sharkey spent 8 years going across Europe and North America documenting both faces and narratives with hopes of capturing the defiance and beauty of a group stigmatized by the after effects of the AIDS epidemic and the influence of the religious community in both government and in society. He does so as a child of the 90's and as someone who draws continual inspiration from both diversity and the stories of each individual in the face of both glory and discrimination. 

You can look at works like Queer Kids and other fantastic series at Michael Sharkey's Website. 

hello tv character, where did you get that?

where'd you get those beautiful eyes ?
my mother
and where'd you get those lips ?
my mother
and the loneliness ?
my mother
and the broken heart ?
my mother
and what about the absence, where'd you get that ?
my father

and where did you get the kill your gay trope from?

society 

I'm leaving the West

A Poem inspired by Pose, Kiki, and Paris is Burning

I’m leaving the West 
where you can see the wind
sandy green hills and highways 
like a rattlesnakes underbelly

I’m dreaming of the East 
with the ballrooms of love 
and the city from the pier at night 
like a trophy lining the sky

I’m going out East 
where love is like butter 
and families are placed and held
like a soft puzzle

Bee Sting

 I was just seven years old when I was stung 

by all those bees in the rose bush 

on the side of the house and 

you thought I was laughing but I was crying 

and I sat up on the big freezer 

while you dolloped baking soda paste on my knees 

and it was so quiet in the back room 

and cool like it was night already

six bee stings at seven years old 

and you told me they probably died

‘it’s only natural 

a bee will die 

if it loses its sting’

and I said a prayer for the bees 

it was all i knew 

and i asked, so kindly 

not to lose my sting

I was just 17 years old when I was raped

by that boy in the cabin in the snow

outside of town during the storm and you never knew what to say about that

and I laid next to her in that bed

while he touched me in my anaesthetized state

and it was so quiet in the back room 

and cold like winter was crying 

my second rape at seventeen years old 

and you told me he probably didn't mean it 

        

                                'it's only natural 

                                            a boy will sting 

                                                           if he loses his control 

and I said a prayer for the boys 

it was all I knew 

and I asked, so kindly 

not to lose control 

I wrote the first half of this poem a long while ago, and finished the second half after reading "Stones in My Pockets, Stones in My Heart" by Eli Clare. I reflected on many of the messages I was given as a kid surrounding gender, violence, and sexuality, and paired two of my experiences. 

Thank you. 

Five contemporary poetry collections, written by and for LGBTQ+ people

1. Pillow Thoughts by Courtney Peppernell - This is just one part of a brilliant four-part series of poems written by a queer writer from Sydney, Australia. Adorned with the cutest little jellyfish drawings, this collection features ten sections that are separated by a range of sentiments and feelings. In general, the poems are about heartbreak, love, and raw emotion. Peppernell encourages people to read the different sections when they need them the most, rather than in order from front to back. For context, the first section is titled, “If you are dreaming of someone,” and the second to last section is titled, “If you need a reason to stay.” This was the first collection of poetry I ever purchased and it still resonates with me so deeply. I truly cannot recommend it enough. 

2. Take Me With You by Andrea Gibson - This collection was first published in 2018, right after I graduated high school and right after I came out to my family. During such a terrifying time in my life, Gibson’s (they/them) poetry spoke directly to my soul. Broken into three parts, this book discusses love, gender, politics, family, sexuality, and forgiveness. Many of the individual poems also feature illustrations from artist Sarah J. Coleman, and each one only enhances the words that it accompanies. Within this collection, reader’s see genuine love, heartbreak, fear, anger, hope, longing, and so much more. For those interested, Gibson is also an outstanding spoken/slam poet. Their work always strives to deconstruct gender norms, politics, and more, and they are an exceptional example of what queer theory strives to accomplish. 

3. yesterday i was the moon by Noor Unnahar - Yet another powerful collection of poetry, this book has uneven and ragged edges--quite literally, the pages are unevenly cut and I don’t know if that was intentional but I would like to think that it was an artistic choice. The writer is a young Pakistani woman who is also a multi-medium artist, and she explains that all of her art is laced with poetry. The poems follow a path from teenager to adulthood, while also grappling with love, emotional loss, heritage, broken homes, self discovery, and cultural background. This collection also transcends any concept of normal and whether it’s a two-line or a thirty-line poem, there is something for everyone in her words. 

4. DROPKICK romance by Cyrus Parker - This collection is implicitly divided into two sections, with the first half featuring poems about a toxic, long-distance relationship and the latter half detailing the journey of learning to love again. With such candor, this collection highlights the realities of violence and emotional abuse in queer relationships, which tends to be a taboo subject in contemporary discussion. If y’all are interested in a funny quirk about the author, they are a self-described “pro-wrestler-turned-poet” and outside of their writing, they hope to “dropkick the gender binary.” Circling back though, within these poems, Parker’s words illustrate the progression from pure exhaustion and devastation to optimism and confidence. It is a must read for anyone who has suffered at the hands of a harmful relationship.   

5. Junk by Tommy Pico - This book is a single poem, rather than a collection, and it is written as a stream-of-consciousness. It breaks all the rules of poetry and it explores queerness and the intersections of being an indigenous person. Between discussions surrounding queerness, politics, cultural erasure, and more, Pico finds room to still mention Janet Jackson and chili cheese Fritos (which will make way more sense after reading). I specifically recommend this book to queer and questioning men and nonbinary people of color, this poem was meant for them. One piece that resonated with me was his mention of the dangers associated with online dating for LGBTQ+ people and how healthy skepticism can be life saving, especially for underage queer folks. Other than that one note, I would argue that this book is best read without a summary because no description will ever do it justice. Truly a brilliant piece of work. 

When I was Little

 I remember going home from school one day after hearing about a show called "RuPaul's Drag Race". 

So I sat down, pulled out my laptop and started watching an episode.

I remember thinking to myself wow I wish I could do makeup like these people. 

Watching drag queens do their makeup and make costumes was the first time I really thought to myself that it did not matter what I looked like I could do anything I wanted. 

First Date

 

First Date

 

 13

I was so excited

I had a new outfit

Green Winnie the Pooh top and matching skirt

I remember the empty parking lot

at the mall

…

 

Home

I’m safe now

I told her what happened

but she didn’t let me finish

The word

“slut”

 

she locked herself in her room

and all I knew

was that what happened

made me

the word

 

The next time I said nothing

13

16

25

Best to say nothing

 

What does the pain

or the shame

matter

to a slut?