To discuss the life of Emmeline Freda Du Faur is to examine the realities of being the first. The difficulties, expectations, rewards, loneliness, victories, and complications. In the study of history, there is a particular preoccupation with the first, the beginning, in queer history doubly so. Even now, there feels like so many firsts in front of our community; witnessing these beginnings is a mixed blessing: the pain of suppressed voices and stolen opportunities tangled with the victory of passing a marker, going farther.
He is one of the most influential American poets, even called the poet of democracy. Poet Ezra Pound called Whitman "America's poet ... He is America." Whitman’s racism and his sexuality cannot be untangled, just as his work cannot be untangled from America itself, nor the racism they share.
Often when discussing historical figures, there is a simultaneous discussion of people being ahead of their time. Especially with queer people based in European countries rife with homophobia and transphobia, it is inarguable that the act of recognizing queerness within themselves is an achievement on its own. Leopold Von Andrian, in contrast, was very of his time. That is meant neither to dismiss his achievements nor to recontextualize his failures. Rather, it is a sad and complicated fact about a sad and complicated man.
Where are the trans men on television, and how are they doing?
To discuss the life and works of Anna Blaman, the discussion must begin with the culture of marriage within the Netherlands. While many applaud this country for its gender equality, the facts often do not support the praise. There is continuous work discussing the systems that uplift the most sexist parts of Dutch culture. In Anna Blaman's time and our own, one such system under great scrutiny is the institution of marriage.
Queer history is a profoundly entangled beast. Within this project, we have found the same names coming up over and over. Edward Carpenter, Virginia Woolf, and Oscar Wilde are some of the most common, and all have their connection to Katherine Mansfield. Originally named Kathleen Beauchamp, she would later take on Katherine Mansfield as a pen name. This name followed her for the rest of her life. Though she died young, she had an eventful life and left a legacy of queerness in her wake.
Tropical Modernism within architecture has only grown since its popularization in the 1930s. Stylistically, this movement is anything but homogenous. However, its principals are clear: building structures that respect the culture, environment, traditions, and history of the areas, while also maintaining the comfort that most people expect from modern buildings. Because of this primary tenant, it has become a hub for architects focusing on sustainability and natural beauty. Artists get ideas for designs that will suit a wide variety of climates from the country's history and local creators and materials. Known as one of the founders of this movement, Geoffrey Bawa is a renowned architect and one of his generation's most influential artists.
Though often a forgotten name, Assotto Saint was a trailblazer in the 1980s and early ‘90s who heavily contributed to increasing the visibility of contemporary Black queerness in literature and theater. In addition to writing his own poetry and plays about the Black Gay experience, Saint founded his own theater exclusively devoted to performances about Black Gay men, and also served as a mentor to an entire generation of up-and-coming Black Gay writers as publisher and editor to several Black Gay anthologies. Saint also became one of the first Black activists to publicly disclose his HIV status, ensuring that others like him would have a face and name to feel less alone with their struggle. Between his prolific work and active presence within his community, Saint was a central figure in the Black Gay cultural arts movement at the time, carving out a space for those voices often being left behind. According to Saint, “I deal with Black Gay issues because my art right now is an answer back. It’s a reaction.”
Not everything in queer history is certain; there are enough grey areas, opinions, interpretations, and controversies to fill a lifetime of learning. There are cases of clarity, but to only look at the clear cut stories would not only severely limit discussion but also prioritize the stories of people who shared our language, had access to community, and had the time and inclination to communicate their identities publicly. The cost of entering the grey area is the possibility of misidentification. With the higher burden of proof and the possibility of mistakes, it can be hard to willingly dive into the process. When looking at the lives and loves of Lesya Ukrainka and Olha Kobylianska this acceptance is necessary as, in the end, the answer is not clear.
Some have stepped onto a path of their choosing, and never strayed from it. Chavela Vargas was never that person, which is not to say that she was indecisive, she was clear about who she was and what she wanted from her life, but her path twists and turns through her ninety-three years of life.
In the creation of art, many different elements are necessary. There are plenty of arguments and books written as to what these elements are. One that is inarguable is also the most quickly ignored. There needs to be an artist who can create. For an artist to be able to create they generally require food, water, and shelter. Such needs are usually met with money, and that is the part of the artistic process where we find Winnaretta Singer.
Lord Byron was a star in his time, the first modern celebrity as we think of them. His poems and plays drew fervent admirers, and he was an enchanting persona pursued by waves of variously-gendered lovers. For many, his malformed right foot and frequently sour temper only added to his mysterious allure. Byron was a revolutionary in Greece during their War of Independence and died of a fever there.
Working in activism, whether that be incendiary writings, marches, protests, treatise, meetings, petitions, or speeches, has been an almost necessary part of the queer identity through difficult times. While there have been some able to carve out a small space of happiness for themselves and possibly a small collective of other queer people, much of modern understandings of queerness are rooted in the need to create change.
Finding queer people to write about for this project is an interesting task. We have gone through online lists, other projects, books, footnotes, and sometimes have just surfed the internet until we found someone interesting. This month I was working on expanding our master list and picked up a book from my shelf: Lesbian Lists: A Look at Lesbian, Culture, History, and Personalities by Dell Richards. In the introduction of the book, I found a sentiment that was extremely interesting considering the current discussions within the queer community around our history.
The life and legacy of Fidel Castro is a hotly debated topic even now years after his death. With a controversial man like that, it is hardly surprising. Loved for his revolutionary policies and how he changed and shaped a country, he is equally hated for his attacks on different groups within Cuba, including the queer community. While many queer people supported his rise to power, some being among the fiercest revolutionaries, Castro responded with violent homophobia. He jailed queer people, and his influence made Cuba an overall more hostile place for queer people. In the story of Reinaldo Arenas, the damage left on a queer person who was able to escape is clear. José Lezama Lima’s story is one of someone who stayed.