Liberating Paris

Exploring the meaning of liberation in
Jennie Livingston's 1990 documentary Paris Is Burning

The Wild Reed's 2018 Queer Appreciation series continues with a piece I wrote in 2002 when studying film and theology at United Theological Seminary of the Twin Cities. This paper focuses on the 1990 documentary film Paris Is Burning which, as Caitlin Breedlove recently noted, "[gave] the world its first peek into the exclusive 'ball' culture and [gave] drag queens, trans men and women, femmes, and gay individuals a spotlight unlike any they’d had before."

Paris Is Burning has been in the (entertainment) news recently with the release of writer and director Ryan Murphy's FX drag ball series Pose. According to Noel Murray of The Verge, the premiere of Pose is "the perfect time to revisit the landmark documentary that captured the scene that started it all." As you'll see, my piece on Paris Is Burning takes a more critical look at the scene it documents.

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My interest in writing about Jennie Livingston's documentary film, Paris is Burning, revolves upon five interrelated questions:


• How do the majority of ball participants understand "liberation"?

• How and why is this understanding problematic?

• Does the film lift up a dissenting voice?

• What is a feminist/queer theological understanding of liberation?

• How could such an understanding translate within the ball scene?


For many of those interviewed by Livingston, the drag ball circuit, or scene, offers a sense of belonging and community. Because of their "otherness" in terms of race, gender-identification, and/or sexual orientation, these individuals are marginalized by society. Yet at the balls they feel free to express themselves. As black men, such expression can potentially be of challenge to the status quo: "For black males to take appearing in drag seriously, be they gay or straight, is to oppose a heterosexist representation of black manhood," notes author, feminist, and social activist bell hooks in "Is Paris Burning?", one of the essays in her 1992 book, Black Looks: Race and Representation. "Gender bending and blending on the part of black males has always been a critique of phallocentric masculinity in traditional black experience," says hooks.

Yet hooks also notes that the subversive power of black males in drag can be altered when such images are informed by "a radicalized fictional construction of the feminine that . . . makes the representation of whiteness as crucial to the experience of female impersonation as gender."

Right: Octavia St. Laurent in Paris is Burning (1990).

Evidence of this alteration and its implications abound in Paris Is Burning. "To be real is to look like your straight counterpart, cynically notes Dorian Corey, one of the black participants in the ball scene. Another notes that it is every minority's dream to "live and look and work as the white person." Still another states that if one has "captured the great white way of living and looking" than one is "a marvel." This "great white way" is epitomized for the ball circuit participants by '80s television shows like Dynasty and by white "supermodels." Accordingly, bell is adamant that what viewers are witnessing in Paris Is Burning is "not black men longing to impersonate or even to become like 'real' black women but their obsession with an idealized fetishized vision of femininity that is white."

Above: Pepper LaBeija in Paris Is Burning (1990).

Thus for many of those who participate in the balls, liberation from marginalization and disempowerment is achieved by becoming like a wealthy white female. Theologically, such an outlook implies liberation is about looking beyond one's own intrinsic, God-given worth and seeking to imitate another who, by their external appearance and circumstances, represents that which is "worthy and good." Furthermore, it implies that God gives this worthiness and goodness to some while denying it to others, and that the hallmarks of such worthiness and goodness are outward signs of wealth and power. Finally, it reduces our struggle for liberation to a personal, individual striving for economic betterment.

The achieving to be just like a wealthy white female is also problematic for hooks as she observes that "the longing to be in the position of the ruling-class woman . . . means there is also the desire to act in partnership with the ruling-class white male." Thus the oppressive power structure – the "brutal imperial ruling-class capitalist patriarchal whiteness" – which ensures that those who populate the ball circuit are disempowered and marginalized, remains unchallenged.

Above: Willi Ninja in Paris Is Burning (1990).

Indeed, the power structure is viewed as something to aspire to, as the exclusive club that one must strive to join. There is no (or little) sense of awareness of the systematic injustice and oppression at work, no desire to band collectively in order to expose, undermine, and transform this system into one that ensures that no one suffers marginalization and disempowerment. For hooks, the glow from Paris Is Burning does not come from the flames of a transforming fire but rather from a sacrificial altar to a false god. The film, she notes, portrays "the way in which colonized black people (in this case black gay brothers, some of whom were drag queens) worship at the throne of whiteness, even when such worship demands that we live in perpetual self-hate, steal, lie, go hungry, and even die in its pursuit."

Yet Paris Is Burning does lift up a critical and dissenting voice. In her discussion of the film, hooks notes that the elder black drag queen Dorian Corey (left) tells viewers that "the desire for stardom is an expression of the longing to realize the dream of autonomous stellar individualism." Corey laments that the ball scene is no longer about what you can create but about what you can acquire. He understands the way that consumer capitalism has undermined the subversive power of the drag balls, in much the same way, I would argue, that capitalism has undermined the subversive power of the lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and intersex (LGBTI) movement in general. The end result is that conformity masquerades as liberation.

What, then, might a queer theological understanding of authentic liberation look like? I use the word queer as defined by feminist theologian Mary Hunt, as meaning "all whose sexual identities and practices fall beyond the parameters of 'hetero-patriarchy'." Hunt insists that queer theology with feminist input "signals a new way to bring together people from a broad spectrum of 'sexual outlaw' positions and invite their theological reflections."

Theologically, liberation, says Joyce Ann Mercer, is "the struggle for freedom from oppression as subjugated people become conscious of their situation and work to transform the conditions of their existence." It is important to note that such transformation includes personal and social change. within the Christian sphere, theologians of liberation emphasize "the biblical theme of God's action on behalf of enslaved, poor, and outcast persons as a central paradigm for faith." A key tenet of liberation theology, Mercer reminds us, is God's "preferential option for the poor," which is understood as "a call to solidarity with suffering persons, including those oppressed by unjust power relations structured around gender."

One of the reasons I am drawn to Paris Is Burning and, in particular, to bell hook's critique of it and, by extension, the wider realities of capitalism and patriarchy, is that I see hook's analysis similar to my own of the wider LGBTI community/movement. It was hook's viewing of Paris Is Burning that was instrumental in the articulation of her broader critique. For me, it was a "fashion spread" entitled "Burmese Dreams" in OUT Magazine's April 2000 edition. What made this particular marketing ploy especially repugnant was that OUT Magazine editors not only approved the putting of brown face paint on a Caucasian model but also showed this model holding various tools and implements used in Burma's slave labor camps. These camps, established by Burma's brutal military dictatorship and populated by an estimated six million men, women, and children, serve the interests not only of the corrupt military regime but also of Western corporations which profit from the military's trampling of human, labor, and environmental rights.

In an article I wrote for Lavender Magazine, I lamented that "the selling out to corporate rule is a betrayal of all that makes our journey as LGBTI people and as authentic human beings unique – heightened conscious insight, increased creativity and inclusivity, and greater compassion."

I also responded to this "sell-out" by establishing a network of LGBTI activists called Queers United for Radical Action (QURA). One of QURA's primary aims is to inform its members and the wider LGBTI community on the threats to democracy, human life, and the environment posed by corporate-led globalization, militarism, and environmental degradation. One way that we seek to do this is by establishing working connections with other justice, peace, labor, and environmental organizations within the Twin Cities. This "bridge-building" is itself a "radical action," as it helps facilitate an awareness of the root or source of the problems facing not just sexual minorities, but all who are oppressed by "brutal imperial ruling-class capitalist patriarchal whiteness," in the words of bell hooks. Although QURA is not a "religious" group, within my own life and work I understand the activity of bridge-building as part of God's liberating action in and through people.

How would God's liberating action look in the community depicted in Paris Is Burning? First, the competitive aspect of the balls would be absent. People would come together not to compete but to share, compare, learn, and celebrate. These qualities would be valued for what they are; they would not have to be legitimized by and through competitiveness. Everyone would be considered special and a "winner" by virtue of their unique gifts of self.

Free of competitiveness, there would be a return to creativity – a lifting up of the beauty and giftedness within as opposed to the outward seeking and acquisition of the perceived beauty and gifts of others. Such lifting up would be challenging as it would reach out to and empower others to similarly free themselves from imitating standards and norms set by entities bent on domination, control, and exploitation. Connections would be made with others who have suffered at the hands of this system, stories would be shared, and suffering and hardship utilized as vehicles to self-understanding, social solidarity, and radical action.

Imbued with and motivated by liberation grounded in the sacred dimension of creation, the drag queen ball circuit would serve not primarily as a refuge but as an empowering force for positive transformation – for both individuals and the wider society. Indeed, in time the wider society would become the drag queen ball circuit, just as it would become the home for other groups which had once felt compelled to construct ghetto-like subcultures. Fantasy, within this re-envisioned society would be employed for purposes of exploration, not as means of escape. Furthermore, the ever-expanding self that such fantasy would encourage to emerge would be cherished, respected, and honored; its journeying path would be celebrated and made way for by all.

– Michael Bayly
June 2002

Above: Performers featured in Jennie Livingston's
1990 documentary Paris Is Burning.
(Photo: The Kobal Collection)

NEXT: Stephanie Beatriz on the Truth of Being Bi


See also the previous Wild Reed posts:
• Making the Connections . . . Then and Now
• Reclaiming and Re-Queering Pride
• A Lose/Lose Situation
• Michelangelo Signorile on the Rebellious Purpose of Queer Pride

Related Off-site Links:
The Ballroom Revolution: Behind the Glitter and Glamour Is a Sad and Tortured History – Arkee Escalera (Esquire, May 31, 2018).
The Music and Meaning of Paris Is Burning – Julianne Escobedo Shepherd (NPR News, April 30, 2012).

Making the Connections

. . . then and now

The Wild Reed's 2017 Queer Appreciation series continues with the sharing of a piece I originally wrote in 2003 for an online progressive LGBT community forum that's long since gone. At the time I wrote this particular piece the U.S. (along with its coalition of "the bought and bullied," in the words of Indian author Arundhati Roy) was preparing to invade Iraq – a disastrous endeavor that would lead to the rise of ISIS and contribute to the worst refugee crisis since World War II. We live with these consequences to this day.

In 2003 I was 36 and working as the director of a justice education program at a UCC church in south Minneapolis. I was also the founder and lead organizer of a Twin Cities-based activist group called Queers United for Radical Action (QURA). The members of QURA (and, truth be told, there were never more that a dozen or so of us) described ourselves as a "network of LGBT activists dedicated to educating ourselves and the wider LGBT community on the threats to democracy, human life, and the environment posed by the nexus of corporate globalization, militarism, and environmental degradation." We also sought to organize and participate in educational and non-violent direct action events in order to facilitate positive and radical social and economic change, and to facilitate and share a uniquely queer spirit of resistance to all forms of oppression. In 2002, one of the events we co-sponsored examined the connections between corporate power, racism, and public policy-making. (This particular event is discussed further midway in this previous Wild Reed post).

Left: With my friend and fellow queer activist Mick Schommer in 2002. Yes, I'm wearing my homemade QURA t-shirt.

Why dig up and share today this piece from 2003? Well, because I believe its message is just as important now as it was 14 years ago – maybe even more so. The good news is that as the accompanying images and related off-site links listed at the end of this post show, there are many LGBTQI+ people "making the connections" in the Trump era of today and who are, accordingly, opting to protest rather than parade. This gives me hope.

Of course, today, the work of connection-making and coalition-building is understood to be a key aspect of the theory and practice of intersectionality, a term coined by American civil rights advocate Kimberlé Williams Crenshaw to describe overlapping or intersecting social identities and related systems of oppression, domination, or discrimination.

One last thing: the only change I've made in reprinting my commentary from 2003 is the replacing of "LGBT" with the more inclusive LGBTQI+. Oh, and truth be told, I tend to refer to myself now as queer rather than "gay." Perhaps more about that in a future post. For now, here's my commentary from 2003 . . .

Why are you talking about these other issues? What have they got to do with the LGBTQI+ community? With talk of U.S. military strikes against Iraq and an increase in anti-war activism around the country and the world, questions such as these are often asked within the LGBTQI+ community whenever issues such as U.S. foreign policy, war, and global justice are raised.

As a gay man working for global justice and peace, my response to such questions is to quietly insist that such issues are indeed relevant to the LGBTQI+ community as ultimately we are more than our sexual orientation. This doesn't deny or reduce the significance of one's sexual orientation, but instead recognizes it as one of a number of interrelated aspects contributing to an authentic and whole human life.

I don't believe that being gay automatically makes one more humanitarian, sophisticated, politically savvy, or concerned about the world. I agree with black feminist lesbian Audre Lorde who wrote that "oppression and the intolerance of difference come in all shapes and sizes and colors and sexualities." Still, I am convinced that the experiences of LGBTQI+ people in an often anti-LGBTQI+ world do have the potential to attune us to the oppression of others.

As LGBTQI+ people struggling to live authentic lives within a heterosexist society, we often encounter destructive realities – prejudice, narrow-mindedness, discrimination, and violence. Knowing how such things feel I do not wish to subject others to them. Yet we live within an economic system that demands the exploitation of others – mostly notably the poor of other countries and people of color. It's also an economic system that requires domination and violence for its protection and expansion. For decades the U.S. government has provided this violence – either directly through military "interventions" or indirectly through its support of brutally repressive dictatorships in other countries.

There came a point in my development as a human being when I had to speak out against such an oppressive and exploitive economic system – just as there had come a time in my life as a gay man when I knew I had to speak out against the oppressive realities of heterosexism and homophobia. My life as a global justice and anti-war activist is very much an extension of my life as an out gay man. I see the two intrinsically connected.

I also think that LGBTQI+ folks know very well the oppressive and destructive nature of secrets. Many of us have and/or continue to live in such a way that our true identity is kept secret from others, even those we love.

Secrets are ultimately life-denying. In the U.S. the corporate media colludes – often unconsciously – with corporate interests to keep secret a very disturbing fact: although we're told that it is our love of freedom and democracy that undergirds, shapes, and directs U.S. foreign and economic policy, more often than not it is greed, domination, and violence. And although policy fueled by such realities may provide us with cheap clothes and oil, it also implicates us in the exploitation of workers in other countries and of the environment. Such policy also puts our nation in great danger, ranging from "blowback" terrorist attacks to world-wide ecological disaster.

Why are such realities ignored by our elected representatives and by the media?

Why are so few people aware that the media is owned and in many ways controlled by corporations heavily invested in the making of military weapons, and thus supportive of war?

Why do we allow ourselves to be distracted by trivial pursuits and mindless consumerism?

Why do we tolerate being lied to?

As a gay man I resist and speak out against the oppressive realities of heterosexism and homophobia. By not speaking out against other types of oppression and domination I am complicit in the oppression of others.

Ultimately, I can only take pride in myself as a gay man if I take pride in myself as a human being. This means becoming aware of my place in all forms of oppressive societal systems. It also means acknowledging that such systems are pervasive to the extent that we all live compromised lives. Nevertheless, we can work with others to dismantle and transform such systems into ones to which we can be proud to belong – as LGBTQI+ people, as human beings.

– Michael J. Bayly
January 28, 2003

For previous instalments in the The Wild Reed 2017 Queer Appreciation series, see:
• Our Lives as LGBTQI People: "Garments Grown in Love"
• On the First Anniversary of the Pulse Gay Nightclub Massacre, Orlando Martyrs Commemorated in Artist Tony O'Connell's “Triptych for the 49”
• Tony Enos on Understanding the Two Spirit Community

See also the previous Wild Reed posts:
• Reclaiming and Re-Queering Pride
• A Lose/Lose Situation
• A Letter to "Dear Abby" re. Responding to 9/11
• Praying for George W. Bush
• The Tenth Anniversary of the U.S. Invasion of Iraq
• Let’s Also Honor the “Expendables”
• Letting Them Sit By Me
• "It Is All Connected"
• At the Mall of America, a Necessary Disruption to "Business as Usual"

Related Off-site Links:
No Justice, No Pride Is the Revolutionary Spirit of the Stonewall Uprising – Aaron Barksdale (Vice Impact, June 19, 2017).
Why I’m Skipping the Pride Parade and Going to the Dyke March – Claire Landsbaum (New York Magazine, June 22, 2017).
Is Pride Still for Queer People Like Me? – Krista Burton (The New York Times, June 17, 2017).
No Justice, No Pride: Coalitions Shut Down Pride Parades – Wakíƞyaƞ Waánataƞ (Last Real Indians, June 26, 2017).
LGBTQ Pride Marches Marked by Protests Across U.S. – Michael Edison Hayden (ABC News, June 25, 2017).

Image 1: Alejandro Alvarez (Washington, D.C. Pride, June 10, 2017).
Image 2: Michael J. Bayly (Twin Cities Pride, June 2003).
Image 3: Michael J. Bayly (Minneapolis, 2002).
Image 4: GetEQUAL (Seattle Pride, June 2017).
Image 5: Fight Back! News (Twin Cities Pride, June 2013).
Image 6:Michael J. Bayly (Minneapolis, 2003).
Image 7: Associated Press (2017).

A Letter to "Dear Abby" re. Responding to 9/11

Today is the 15th anniversary of the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks on the United States. Without doubt, it was a series of horrific events that took place that day in New York, Washington, D.C., and Pennsylvania, and in which 2,996 people were killed and over 6,000 injured.

U.S. President George W. Bush and his administration chose to respond to these attacks by first launching military strikes against Afghanistan and then invading Iraq, all under the guise of what was called the "War on Terror."

From the very start, many of us opposed this "war," as we were convinced that it would simply exasperate the very real problem of global terrorism and fail to address its root causes. Fifteen years on, time has proven these convictions correct, as most clearly evidenced by the Afghan War quagmire and the rise of ISIS.

I wrote and sent the following letter to advice columnist Jeanne Phillips (aka Abigail Van Buren or "Dear Abby") in 2002. It was never published, but I can recall at the time feeling that it was important to formulate and express opposition to the "War on Terror" in a calm and concise manner. That, at least, is what I attempted to do with this letter. Why "Dear Abby"? She had recently expressed support for the "War on Terror" in one of her columns.

At the time I wrote this letter, fourteen years ago, I was 36 and working as the director of a justice education program at Spirit of the Lakes United Church of Christ in Minneapolis. I was also the founder and lead organizer of a Twin Cities-based activist group called Queers United for Radical Action (QURA). The members of QURA (and, truth be told, there were never more that a dozen or so of us) described ourselves as a "network of LGBT activists dedicated to educating ourselves and the wider LGBT community on the threats to democracy, human life, and the environment posed by the nexus of corporate globalization, militarism, and environmental degradation." We also sought to organize and participate in educational events and non-violent direct actions in order to facilitate positive and radical social and economic change, and to facilitate and share a uniquely queer spirit of resistance to all forms of oppression.

Anyway, here, with added links, is my 2002 letter to "Dear Abby."

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Dear Abby,

I was very disappointed to see your column being used as a propaganda tool of the Pentagon ("Secretary of Defense Thanks the Military," 5/24/02). Contrary to your insistence, we are not all "united" in support of the so-called "War on Terrorism." Over 50,000 U.S. citizens, for instance, including many who lost loved ones in the terrorist attacks of September 11, converged on Washington, D.C. on April 20 to express the growing global realization that war is not the way to address and eradicate terrorism. Currently, thousands are preparing to launch the "Not in Our Name" campaign on June 6.

Your response to the Secretary of Defense implies that the patriotic thing to do is to unquestioningly support an open-ended, perhaps never-ending war. This is not patriotism. This is not in the best interests of our nation or our children.

A more authentic expression of patriotism starts with courageously asking the question, "Why is the U.S. hated by so many?" The answer, as many are aware, is not because of our perceived freedoms. The truth is that the U.S. is hated because aspects of U.S. foreign policy do violent and destructive things to people all around the world. This fact was acknowledged as long ago as 1968 when the Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr. declared that "the greatest purveyor of violence on the world stage is the United States government."

Indeed, in numerous cases around the globe, the willingness of the U.S. to maintain economic dominance through oppression and violence has led to the deaths of untold millions. This too is a type of war – a war on the poor, a war on the planet. It is a war in which Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld doesn't need to implore our involvement, as we're already part of it. We benefit, after all, from the exploitation of Third World workers and the environment through cheap sweatshop-produced products and cheap oil. Our military interventions and support of oppressive regimes protest and expand our corporate interests and thus our bloated lifestyle – a lifestyle that was once described to the rest of the world by George Bush, Sr. as "not negotiable."

Such realities in no way justify the tragic and criminal acts of September 11, but they do help explain why some may feel moved to desperately lash out at the most visible symbols of U.S. foreign policy – the World Trade Center and the Pentagon.

How then do we respond to such extreme and destructive acts? More violence is not the answer. I feel genuinely sorry for the young men and women duped into believing they are fighting a war on terrorism when in fact they are being used to secure and expand the bloated and unsustainable American lifestyle – one that is far from economically democratic, as is evidenced by the increasing gap between rich and poor. Furthermore, the actions of the military will breed more terrorists.

There are better ways to respond to the events of September 11 than bombing other nations and killing thousands of innocent people – which is what has happened in Afghanistan. Rather than launching a "war on terror," the criminal justice system should have been utilized as it was after the first attack on the World Trade Center in 1993. That strategy saw those responsible apprehended and jailed. Yet bringing the criminals who planned the September 11, 2001 attacks to justice is only part of he truly patriotic response. If we really love our country and our children we will want to ensure that such an attack never occurs again – anywhere.

Accordingly, we need to inform ourselves and others of the domination and violence that undergirds, shapes and directs U.S. foreign policy. We then need to boldly denounce this domination and violence and pledge ourselves to address the root cause of terrorism – economic and social inequality. As we honestly confront our own role – individually and collectively – in a grossly unfair and ultimately suicidal global economy, sacrifices will need to be made.

Only be engaging in such challenging actions will we eradicate terrorism, ensure our nation's security, and herald a new day of global compassion, justice, and peace.

Let us not align ourselves with the clouds of war that obstruct the dawning light of such a tomorrow.

– Michael Bayly
May 29, 2002

See also the previous Wild Reed posts:
• Quote of the Day – September 11, 2015
• Something to Think About – September 11, 2013
• Kittredge Cherry on Mychal Judge, the "Gay Saint of 9/11"
• In Mychal Judge's Heart "There Was Room for Everybody"
• Before (and After) the Poison
• Karen Armstrong on the 9/11 Attacks: A “Flagrant and Wicked Abuse of Religion”
• Rebecca Solnit on How 9/11 Should Be Remembered
• 9/11: Seven Years On
• Remembering September 11 and Its Aftermath
• Let’s Also Honor the “Expendables”
• Praying for George W. Bush
• The Tenth Anniversary of the U.S. Invasion of Iraq
• Thoughts on Prayer in a "Summer of Strife"
• Discerning and Embodying Sacred Presence in Times of Violence and Strife

Related Off-site Links:
The Lost Innocence of 9/11 – Michael Winship (BillMoyers.com via Common Dreams, September 11, 2016).
I’m a Veteran. Here’s Why I’m Not Going to Shed a Damned Tear Today – Nathan Wellman (U.S. Uncut, September 11, 2016).
The Worst Day of My Life is Now New York’s Hottest Tourist Attraction – Steve Kandell (BuzzFeed, May 19, 2014).
U.S. Bombs and Drones Have Led to an Expansion of Terrorism – Phyllis Bennis (The Real News, July 5, 2016).
Post-9/11 Wars Have Cost Nearly $5 Trillion (and Counting) – Nadia Prupis (Common Dreams, September 13, 2016).
UK Inquiry Releases Scathing Report on Iraq War – Reuters via The World Post (July 6, 2016).
Bush, Blair and the Lies That Justified the Illegal Iraq War – Robin Andersen (FAIR, July 6, 2016).
Tariq Ramadan: Iraq War Waged for U.S. Economic Interests Has Destabilized All of Middle East – Democracy Now! (July 6, 2016).
Report: Over 1.2 Million Killed in U.S. Wars in Iraq & Afghanistan – Ben Norton (BenNorton.com, March 23, 2015).
Latest Estimate Pegs Cost of Wars at Nearly $5 Trillion – Naomi LaChance (The Intercept, September 14, 2016).
The Afghan War Quagmire – Editorial Board (New York Times, September 17, 2016).

Image: Michael Bayly.

"Can the Klan!"

Remembering the time Minnesotans united
to say 'No' to racism and the Ku Klux Klan.

I'm sure you've seen Rob Godfrey's powerful photo at left. It shows black police officer Leroy Smith helping an unidentified Ku Klux Klan supporter out of the sun during a recent white supremacist rally at the South Carolina Statehouse. The image has gone viral on social media, with The Huffington Post's Dominique Mosbergen noting that Smith is being praised for his "extraordinary show of professionalism and grace under trying circumstances."

The KKK is infamous for its hateful and violent words and actions against blacks, Jews, immigrants, Catholics, gays and lesbians, and people of color. Wikipedia notes that the Ku Klux Klan, or simply "the Klan," is the name of "three distinct past and present movements in the United States, which have advocated extremist reactionary currents such as white supremacy, white nationalism, and anti-immigration, historically expressed through terrorism." The current manifestation of the Klan is classified as a hate group by the Anti-Defamation League and the Southern Poverty Law Center. In 2012 the KKK was estimated to have between 5,000 and 8,000 members.

In August 2001, members of the Ku Klux Klan held a rally on the steps of the Minnesota State Capitol, and I joined with over 1,000 people to protest and counter their message of hate and intolerance.

In the lead-up to the Klan's rally, Thelma McKenzie, president of the League of Minnesota Human Rights Commissions, attempted to put a positive spin on the KKK's presence in Minnesota.

"I think it's good the Klan is going to have their rally," she told Minnesota Public Radio. "It tells us they're still there and it awakens us to deal with it."

McKenzie also said that news of the planned Klan rally had brought people of diverse racial backgrounds together - something which, she said, was bound to disturb members of the white separatist group.

Yet not everyone was in agreement on how best to display rejection of the Klan and its rally on the steps on the Minnesota Capitol on August 25, 2001. The city of St. Paul opted to hold an anti-racism event at Central High School at the same time the Klan demonstrated at the Capitol, while the Minnesota DFL Party said it would host a rally at the Fitzgerald Theater in downtown St. Paul.

I chose to respond to the Klan's rally by getting involved with a coalition called "Can the Klan," which organized a demonstration at the capitol during the Klan's rally.

At the time I was the founder and lead organizer of an activist group called Queers United for Radical Action (QURA). The members of QURA (and, truth be told, there were never more that a dozen or so of us) described the group as a "network of LGBT activists dedicated to educating ourselves and the wider LGBT community on the threats to democracy, human life, and the environment posed by the nexus of corporate globalization, militarism, and environmental degradation." We also sought to "organize and participate in educational and non-violent direct action events in order to facilitate positive and radical social and economic change, and to facilitate and share a uniquely queer spirit of resistance to all forms of oppression."

Below is the flyer I designed and which QURA distributed in the lead-up to the "Can the Klan" rally in St. Paul on August 25, 2001.

Following is an excerpt from an August 25, 2001 Minnesota Public Radio News article about the Klan's presence at the Minnesota Capitol and the "Can the Klan" counter demonstration.

Forty-six men dressed in hooded, white robes or brown shirts with swastika arm bands stood defiantly on the steps of the state Capitol waving Nazi and Confederate flags. The members of the National Knights of the Ku Klux Klan took turns blasting various racial groups and calling for a pure white race. Michael McQueeny, a grand dragon of the KKK from Wisconsin and the rally organizer, set the tone of intolerance.

"How long can the white race continue to deny and attempt to cover up the fact that the world we live in resembles a horror film? Every day crime in America is getting worse, and vicious crimes by Negroes are so common that most people have become immune to the crime that exists around them," McQueeny said.

McQueeny and others shouted through a bullhorn and public address system, but the chants of an estimated 1,200 anti-Klan demonstrators prevented most observers from hearing the speeches. . . . Klan organizers billed the rally as a recruiting event. They actually had no opportunity for contact with anyone who might have come to hear their pitch, but they did hold banners displaying their organizations' phone numbers.

. . . About 75 state troopers stood between the Klan and their opponents. Many more police stood by away from the demonstration. The Department of Public Safety says four demonstrators were arrested and one person was treated for dehydration. A few eggs were thrown, but no one was injured.

After the rally, anti-Klan protesters were declaring victory. Spokesman Mike Huber of the group "Can the Klan" says more people than expected participated in opposing the KKK and its racist agenda.

"The turnout showed people are willing to come and stand up. Even some people have been speaking publically saying that this was going to be a violent demonstration. I think we proved that it wasn't and people weren't going to be scared by those scare tactics," said Huber.

Huber says Can the Klan is planning to hold ongoing public meetings to discuss racism. He says they will be better organized the next time a group like the KKK comes to town.

Above and below: Images I captured during the August 25, 2001 "Can the Klan" rally at the Minnesota State Capitol.

Above: Michelle Gross of Communities United Against Police Brutality was one of several speakers at the "Can the Klan" rally.

Wrote Kim DeFranco in her August 29, 2001 Fight Back News article, "Minnesota Says: "Can the Klan, Say No to Racism!":

Before the white supremacists came out, the Can the Klan rally started with Michelle Gross, one of the organizers stating, "They are here to recruit and gain a foothold in Minnesota. We can't hand over anybody to the Klan. It's important for everyone who is against the them to come out and speak out against them."

Amid speeches, music, drumming and chants, demonstrators prepared for the Klan's arrival. The crowd was diverse and multinational, as different communities around the Minneapolis-St. Paul area came to express their anger.

People held signs: "No to Racism! No to Klan!" "This is not a time for silence - speak out against racism now!" and "When I was in school, we called it a 'dunce cap'! Hate is stupid!"

Related Off-site Links:
Waiting for the KKK – Brandt Williams (Minnesota Public Radio News, August 24, 2001).
Klan Rally – Loud, but Peaceful – Tim Pugmire and Elizabeth Stawicki (MPR News, August 25, 2001).
Minnesota Says: "Can the Klan, Say No to Racism!" – Kim DeFranco (Fight Back News, August 29, 2001).
White Americans Are the Biggest Terror Threat in the U.S. – Peter Gelling (Global Report, July 24, 2015).
Black South Carolina Trooper Explains Why He Embraced a White Supremacist – Dan Barry (The New York Times, July 25, 2015).
The KKK Issues Plea for Members to Kill Gay People – Joe Williams (Pink News, August 13, 2015).

See also the previous Wild Reed posts:
• Something to Celebrate
• Quote of the Day – June 19, 2015
• In Minneapolis, Rallying in Solidarity with Black Lives in Baltimore
• At the Mall of America, a Necessary Disruption to "Business as Usual"
• Rallying in Solidarity with Eric Garner and Other Victims of Police Brutality

Images: Michael J. Bayly.

Reclaiming and Re-Queering Pride

The Wild Reed's 2015 Queer Appreciation series continues with excerpts from an article by writer, storyteller and organizer Ngoc Loan Tran.

Although this article was originally published in 2013, it remains very much relevant today, as LGBT Pride events are still, in Tran's words, "divorced from their historical legacy" and no longer "carry[ing] the same weight they once did."

She begins her article by reminding us how the events in New York City on June 28, 1969 "wrote queer and trans folks into history permanently." Continues Tran . . .

While the Stonewall Riots that began on that night were not the first time the LGBT community retaliated against anti-queer and trans violence (see, for example, the Compton's Cafeteria riot of August 1966 [and also the LGBT community's response to the police raid on the Los Angeles Black Cat Bar in 1966]), the Riots are often regarded as the spark that began the ‘gay liberation movement.’ The Riots were an intentional disruption of the routine police raids that took place at the popular Stonewall Inn in New York City’s Greenwich Village.

The Riots served as a catalyst for queer and trans* folks, particularly those living in New York City, to come together and work towards building a community invested in actively resisting targeted violence. A year after Stonewall, cities like Los Angeles, Chicago, and New York City held their first ‘Gay Pride’ marches to commemorate the one-year anniversary of the Riots that started it all.

I appreciate Tran's historical perspective and her critique of contemporary Pride celebrations. They remind me of my younger days when, in the early 2000s, I founded and coordinated Queers United for Radical Action (QURA), a network of LGBT activists dedicated to educating itself and the wider LGBT community on the threats to democracy, human life, and the environment posed by the nexus of corporate globalization, militarism, and environmental degradation. We also sought to organize and participate in educational and non-violent direct action events in order to facilitate positive and radical social and economic change, and to facilitate and share a uniquely queer spirit of resistance to all forms of oppression.

And so, yes, I resonate with Ngoc Loan Tran's critical perspective on Pride . . . and with the powerful and eloquent way she articulates this perspective in her 2013 article "Re-Queering Pride," from which the following is excerpted.

Pride is most comfortable for gay folks who experience their queerness in the context of being white, skinny, able-bodied, and financially secure. These are the bodies that are seen as desirable within the context of Pride and their experiences are centered, often at the expense of the humanity of others. This sort of comfort is evident in the ways Pride events can still develop relationships with banks and corporations while ignoring the ways these very institutions do our larger community harm. Internalizing these relationships as a reflection of the “progress” we have made doesn’t indicate progress at all; it means the internalization of the oppression we face. It means that our desirability is still being defined by those with power over us.

The Stonewall Riots were led by members of our community who were considered undesirable by other lesbian and gay folks because of their skin color, their means of survival, their gender, their class status or even their politics of radical change. Outside of the queer community, those who led the Riots were considered undesirable by the government and larger society as well. Their legacy planted a vision of a future where we would create our own standards of desirability that actively undermine oppressive systems and structures.

On some level, I think we know that there is work left to do. We know that Pride today is not reflective of our history, and does not center the experiences of those who live at the intersections of oppression and are seen as “undesirable”. Rather, the inaccessibility of most Pride spaces means many of us do not see ourselves fully reflected or represented. I often find myself being forced to choose between parts of myself, different aspects of my identity, as I navigate the urge to celebrate while wanting to remain critical and being discouraged from doing so.

Pride does not foster a sense of community. We see that evidenced in the way that intentional, politicized spaces like Black Gay Pride, Dyke Marches, and Trans* Days of Action must be created even within Pride. These kinds of internal Pride spaces serve as an alternative for folks like me who have felt alienated and foreign in mainstream Pride spaces from Charlotte to Manhattan.

Don’t get me wrong, I believe in celebrating. I believe that we queers should celebrate ourselves as we live through the daily horrors. There is celebration in liberation, and in this process of revolution. But, I also believe that being critical while celebrating is possible and necessary. I believe in our collective responsibility to one another to deal with oppression in all of the ways it manifests. We need to have tough conversations about how Pride is often most comfortable for the people in our community that possess profound privilege alongside their queerness.

I don’t want us to forget that trans women of color are still seen as disposable, or that rural queer and trans youth still contend with deadly silent, isolating environments. I don’t want us to forget that queer and trans* people of color are still being profiled and harassed, and that we are still losing people as a community.

I don’t want us to forget that heterosexism needs us to believe that we have succeeded.

I do not want us to forget that liberation does not mean we become the kind of queer that heterosexuals can call friend while ignoring their immense power over us; I do not want us to forget that we still need a world created in our queer image.

I want to recognize that we won’t all of a sudden be delivered to a Pride that is imbued with a totally beautiful, radical, and anti-oppressive magic. We must deliver ourselves. But I am a queer with limitless hope, and I believe that rooted in the magic of our collective resistance is the possibility of making Pride queer again.

I want us to remember history and hold the sacrifices of our queer and trans* ancestors in our bodies. I want us to be present in the now as it unfolds and reveals that after a June drunk with corporate excess, heavy and heartbreaking work remains.

I want us to recognize that there is celebration in queerness and there is no such thing as the wrong time to talk about ourselves. I want us to remember ourselves as complex, multi-layered people who have more power than we are led to believe. And when I talk about our power, I do so in a way that honors the vision of our ancestors who called for liberation, justice and freedom over heterosexist privilege. I’m talking about a power that is responsible, that does not forget our roots or ignore our potential to be transformative and intentional in all we do.

To read Ngoc Loan Tran's article "Re-Queering Pride" in its entirety, click here.

NEXT: Part III – Standing with Jennicet Gutiérrez,
"the Mother of Our Newest Stonewall Movement"

For the first installment of the 2015 Wild Reed Queer Appreciation series, see:
• Vittorio Lingiardi on the Limits of the Hetero/Homo Dichotomy

See also the previous Wild Reed posts:
• Quote of the Day – May 4, 2013
• A Lose/Lose Situation
• Steven W. Thrasher on the Bland and Misleading "Gay Inc" Treatment of the Struggle to Overturn Prop 8
• Quote of the Day – March 29, 2013
• Quote of the Day – April 2, 2013

A Lose/Lose Situation

Today is Aung San Suu Kyi’s 62nd birthday.

Awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1991, Aung San Suu Kyi is the non-violent, pro-democracy activist and leader of the National League for Democracy in Burma. She has been kept under a state of house arrest by the military dictatorship of Burma since 1989.

To mark the occasion of Aung San Suu Kyi’s birthday, I’d like to share the first ever “political” commentary I had published – one that, as you’ll see, refers to events, or rather conditions, in Burma and their connection to corporate-led globalization. I also highlight (and lament) the gay community’s “selling out to corporate rule” - which is the “lose/lose situation” of my commentary’s title.

This particular commentary was published in the June 30, 2000 issue of the Twin Cities’ Lavender magazine. I wrote it as founder of the now defunct group Queers United for Radical Action (QURA).* Reading it seven years on, I can only smile at what a firebrand I was back then!

_____________________________

A Lose/Lose Situation
By Michael Bayly

Lavender, Volume 6, Issue 133
June 30, 2000

Editor’s Note: The following piece was written by a reader in response to Paul Varnell’s commentary, “This March Is Sponsored By . . .” (Lavender, May 19, 2000).

Recently, OUT magazine concocted a “fashion spread” for its April 2000 edition. Entitled “Burmese Dreams,” this eight-page piece was the usual pathetic attempt to sell overpriced and, in this case, supposedly Burmese design-inspired clothes to gay men.

What made this particular marketing ploy especially repugnant was the fact that OUT magazine editors not only approved the putting of brown face paint on a Caucasian model, but also showed this model holding various tools and implements used in Burma’s slave labor camps.

These camps, established by Burma’s brutal military dictatorship, and populated by an estimated six million men, women, and children, serve the interests not only of the corrupt military regime, but also of Western corporations which profit from the military’s trampling of human, labor, and environmental rights in Burma.

This situation typifies the result of corporate globalization’s bottom line – profit above all other concerns. Though the case in Burma is perhaps the most extreme, the reality is that transnational corporations, based predominately in the United States and other northern hemisphere nations, and concerned primarily with auto, textile, and oil production, reap huge profits from exploiting the people and natural resources of nations in the southern hemisphere – be they in Southeast Asia, Africa, or Central and South America.

It is this state of affairs that Paul Varnell would have the GLBT community uncritically embrace – all for the “successful” advancement of the movement.

Varnell insists that the co-opting of the GLBT movement by corporate entities is a “win/win situation.” Yet in reality, the total, unquestioning acceptance of corporate influence of the sort Varnell advocates ensures, in any social movement, that the fundamental task of decision-making is inevitably, and often subliminally, transferred from the people to business “elites.” In other words, we get duped.

“Of course you’re accepted!” we’re told. “We’re marketing our product in a special way so that you will buy it and know that you are just like everyone else.” Many of us, however, do not want to be “just like” the consumerist junkies who comprise our society’s mainstream.

Furthermore, in the setup advanced by Varnell, power and direction are no longer channeled from a sense of egalitarianism and a base of democracy, but from a system of plutocracy – the rule of money. This is the “solid and reliable” reality Varnell would have us embrace – a reality that ensures our exploitation as surely as it is currently ensuring, through corporate globalization, the exploitation of millions of people and the environment.

Sponsorship and commercial arrangements may be as “American as apple pie,” as Varnell suggests, but other values – call them “meat-and-potato” values, if you like – should take priority if we are to maintain a healthy values system: human and environmental rights, for instance, or active resistance to greed and oppression.

Now, we all know what happens when we gorge ourselves on apple pie without first having a substantial meal of the basics. Yet, unfortunately, many in the GLBT community seem to be skipping the basics and heading straight for the “extras.” The results are draining our movement of vitality, vision, and credibility. OUT magazine’s aforementioned “fashion spread” is clear evidence of this.

As a gay man, I know whom I stand in solidarity with – and it’s not corporate America, whose greed ravages the people and environment of the planet. I didn’t undertake the painful journey of coming out from the closet of ignorance, denial, and oppression to ignore, deny, and oppress others. Yet alignment with corporate mantras such as “profit over all else” and “motives count for absolutely zero,” regardless of how “solid and reliable” they may appear to some, does just that.

Thankfully, there’s resistance to the GLBT community’s selling out to corporate rule. Many individuals and groups boycotted the recent Millennium March due to its overt corporate pandering. Of those who did attend, many noted a distinct blandness about the event, and longed for the spirit of creativity, adventure, and political consciousness of past events.

Closer to home, another example of this resistance is the Minneapolis City Council’s recent passing of a Selective Purchasing Agreement, which directs the city away from corporations and companies (such as 3M) that do business with Burma’s military regime. Though the measure was vetoed by Mayor Salyes Belton, whom many believed to have bowed to pressure from powerful corporations such as American Express, the initial passing of the measure was a hopeful and inspired moment.

The driving force behind getting the Burma Selective Purchasing Agreement presented and passed, albeit briefly, was Twin Cities resident Mick Schommer [right]. A gay activist, Schommer, like many individuals and groups within numerous and diverse communities, demonstrates the capability of making the connection between all forms of oppression. And as recent events in Seattle (against the World Trade Organization) and Washington, D.C. (against the World Bank) attest, this “connection” is increasingly being recognized as unfettered capitalism manifested in a distinctly corporate form of globalization which values profit over all other considerations.

The selling out to corporate rule is a betrayal of all that makes our journey as GLBT people and as authentic human beings unique – heightened conscious insight, increased creativity and inclusivity, and greater compassion. It also implicates us in the exploitation of others and the environment.

Now, that’s what I’d call a lose/lose situation.

* QURA was a network of LGBTQI activists involved in a diverse range of social justice issues. The network was dedicated to educating itself and the wider LGBTQI community on the threats to democracy, human life, and the environment posed by the nexus of corporate globalization, militarism, and environmental degradation. QURA also sought to organize and participate in educational and non-violent direct action events in order to facilitate positive and radical social and economic change, and to facilitate and share a uniquely queer spirit of resistance to all forms of oppression.


Related Off-site Link:
Faces of Resistance: Images and Stories of Progressive Activism at the Turn of the Millennium (1997-2006) – Michael Bayly.


UPDATE: Burmese Nobel Prize Winner Aung San Suu Kyi Has Turned Into an Apologist for Genocide Against Muslims – Mehdi Hasan (The Intercept, April 13, 2017).