In history, some people are more distinguishable than others, having left deeper and longer-lasting marks on the world's outcome. The names we remember most tend to be leaders of rebellions, famous writers, those advocating for change, and those impacting the communities around them. Then, there are the names that often come connected to periods of change, mentioned in the footnotes but rarely given their counterparts' full attention.
To discuss the life of Jean-Baptiste L'Heureux is to take every account with a grain of salt. Beyond the fact that the man himself was a notorious liar and spent much of his life making up new backstories for himself, he was also a man with many enemies. Specifically, enemies within the Canadian government and various Christian institutions, as he spent just as much time making fools of them as anything else. The most reliable source to determine facts about his life and legacy would be the Blackfoot people. The reality is that the continued genocide against Indigenous peoples in Canada has wiped away much of the histories they kept. The stories that are still known are not among the most reliable sources, generally left on the accounts of religious authorities he offended and government officials he annoyed.
If you’ve ever been involved in any kind of queer organizing, or really any queer groups, you’ve likely heard a lot of talk about what it means to live openly and authentically. We talk about the danger and the joy that can come from being open about our queerness, especially when we’re one of few. That idea of being open and vulnerable affects not just us, but the people around us and the people that come after us. How much more vulnerable must it feel, then, to be the first in a community? In a city? In a country? That became a reality for Paddy Chew.
Believe it or not, there were some happy queer news stories in 2020. There were also plenty of struggles and injustice. In addition to our yearly recap, we’ve included 20 ways to help combat issues queer folks are facing around the globe.
Within the story of every queer person lies a tangled web of connections offering a glimpse of the queer community at the time. From Emmeline Freda Du Faur, we find a couple: two women who spent their lives together and whose relationship remains mostly unrecognized. Freda and her aunt Emmeline Woolley shared a name and an orientation; throughout most of her life, Emmeline Woolley was in a relationship with famed Australian children's book author and musician Ethel Pedley.
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.