Queer spaces

I always feel a little less on edge in queer spaces. There is something about being in a place, where everyone is ok with you checking them out, and just adoring their cute face, appreciating their voice, their movement, their fashion sense, just saying or not saying, I like your freaky self, I am glad you exist.


That being said, I was wearing too many layers and quickly became embarrassed/sweaty/awkward when Vic was talking me up and her friend seemed too interested in reassuring me. It was lovely. It was also funny to have such a complete unknown, but obviously someone vouched for, someone who would enjoy this kind of event.


And the event.  You never know what you're walking into when it comes to queer performances, this one had laughs, tears, awkwardness, audience interaction, awe, grossed out... all the things really.

There were three performances that stood out.
The first was about grief. A woman read a reflection ending with an allusion to Lot's wife turning back and becoming a pillar of salt and comparing it to the salty sting of her own skin after the death of her mom. Grief is salty.  The dancers performed their grief in a variety of ways, but it didn't hit me until the man began pouring salt all over the deceased woman's body. At times it was tender, other times anger, such hurt. He began pouring a second canister of it, and offered another dancer a third, and suddenly the candles placed around her body were recognizable. They were not candles, but a dozen more cans of salt, the grief was enormous, it was unending, it came on in waves, in a million different feelings and movements. They seemed to have to physically remove it from themselves, and then return to put more salt on her.   It was beautiful.

Another performance was a mock tv show of a mating ritual between two bugs -the performers became wrestlers, became a sort of gross mating scene, and then the voice over came back and announced that the tv show had done its job and transformed the audience members in the same way the bugs had mated disgustingly and transformed on stage, suddenly audience members (including a girl next to me) stood up and began to dance violently, jerking in all sorts of ways and spit up blue goo.  One of the directors had to clarify that they were not aware of the audience participation and were totally taken off guard as they made announcements for the intermission.

The last performance was about a queer latina woman (played by two people) as she is struggling with her identity as a latina in the US (where as a child she first had to split herself into two people), and later as a gay woman. The performance literally had us all crying as the girl prepares to have her hair shaved off by her male friend. He tries to talk her out of it, but she asks him if he knows she is gay, he jokes that chicago turned her that way, but ultimately says he loves her regardless. She tells him about her abuse. And he is there for her. We are all crying our eyes out, and he jokes that it won't be the first time she had a bald head because when she was born her hair grew into a mohawk and her grandma shaved it off, but it grew back the same way, and suddenly we are all laughing as the two women hold each other and her guy best friend who loves her starts to shave her head (not really). One part of her gets up and completes the ritual and she sings to the audience in spanish. ---my spanish is not great, but I think she is singing about how in loving herself she is able to go away (meaning go back to being one person). It was just a beautiful performance throughout, and honestly being with Vic and considering the kinds of things people have to do to integrate or detach themselves is just a powerful thing that doesn't really get discussed in white/hetero circles.



It's really meaningful to be exposed to things. Today I went to an indigenous march, tonight I went to a queer POC performance. As a white dude, I often feel like I am supposed to know and be responsible for everything... but I can't even guess without people being willing to teach me.
Makes me really grateful to the folks who have been so vulnerable with my stupid ass over the years.