Sunday Scribblings: Somewhere

I have never been a regular at bars. The dark, the noise, and the smoke just are not my idea of a good time and I'm not much of a dancer, so there's no draw there. But there was a time in my life when I frequented a Boston bar. To tell the story we need to go back to the late 80s.

At the time I was on the Boston Lesbian and Gay Pride Committee. We met on Thursday nights at Boston City Hall. After meetings the women of the committee, Darryl, Janet, Carol and I would adjourn to the one lesbian bar in the city, Somewhere Else, which was conveniently located blocks away in the Financial District.

Thursday nights were not a big night at Somewhere during that time, so we were able to settle in at a table near the bar and talk without shouting. Over drinks we would debrief from the meeting, complaining about the boys, or worrying over the work still to be done. We didn't talk about the other aspects of our life - dating, family, our paid work - we stuck to talking about our shared work. I do remember Darryl talking about when she had worked in a bar, though I don't remember what bar that was or where.

Somewhere Else featured a bar area on the first floor, with a stage on the opposite wall, and tables scattered around. Bathrooms were down a narrow staircase in the basement. In the way of lesbian bars there was a men's room and a women's room - to meet code requirements - but the designations were ignored. Upstairs featured a dance floor, a second bar and a room with a pool table.

I'd been to Somewhere Else a couple of times before with my wife and other college friends. But those visits were infrequent. The bar wasn't convenient and since we weren't single we weren't looking for places to find love. There was one memorable night when shortly after Amy and I left Somewhere Else we shared a kiss while stopped at a redlight. The driver in the car behind us flashed the lights and honked the horn - letting us know they'd seen the kiss. When the light turned green they pulled into the lane next to us and passed, taking a second to take a peek at us. I happened to look over as they passed and was rewarded with the sight of jaws dropping as this hetero couple realizing that we were both women. Amy and I laughed most of the way home, and thinking about it still makes me smile.

Shortly after we bought our house I left the Pride Committee - burned out from the politics of it, busy with work and the new house, and not willing to make the drive home after those evening meetings. And not too long after Somewhere Else ceased to be. A fire that started in the bathhouse that shared the building and a lack of appropriate insurance proved to be too much for the owners.

Other bars have come and gone since then, but I've rarely visited them. In my mind when I imagine a lesbian bar it is Somewhere Else that comes to mind. And invariably I think about Darryl, Carol, and Janet. I've lost touch with all but Carol and I don't speak to her very often, but there is a warm place in my heart for each of them, the work we did together (planning a party for 40,000 - 50,000 of our closest friends), and the friendship we shared over drinks at Somewhere Else.

To read more Sunday Scribblings go here.

(I haven't participated in Sunday Scribblings in a while, though I used to be a regular.)

Pride

Thirty-nine years ago police raided a gay bar in Greenwich Village in New York City sparking a riot that is commemorated each year in Pride parades throughout the US. In the years since that riot and the first Pride parade, the purpose and tenor of the parade has changed.

We didn't stay long at the first Pride event we attended taking just a small amount of time to wander before heading off. Pride became a regular part of our lives during our active membership in GLOW (Gays and Lesbians of Watertown), a neighborhood social group. Most of the the years I sat at GLOW's table at the festival passing out information. Through GLOW I got involved with the Boston Pride Committee.

When I was a member of Boston's Pride Committee in the late 80s and early 90s, being gay or lesbian meant there was always the possibility of losing a job, friends, family and even your life. And the chants and speeches of the Pride parade and festival reflected that. Pride was the one time when it felt safe to be completely out. This was also a time when AIDS was at the front of the minds of many in the LGBT community and that was also reflected in the Pride events.

It has been years since I regularly attended the Pride parade and festival. We attended one or two Pride festivals after I left the committee, but other aspects of life have taken priority most years. I went to Pride on Saturday and did something I have never done before - I marched in the parade from start to finish. In all my previous years of involvement I have always been at the festival site, and only occasionally joined GLOW or the Pride Committee for the last couple of blocks.

What drew me to march this year is a group of people who have become an important part of my life since January. The story begins about 5 years ago. At that time I attended Meeting for Worship (Quaker) with my sister-out-law (the fabulous Shelley) at Princeton Friends Meeting. On each visit since then I have attended Meeting. At first it felt strange to sit in silence in a room full of people. But over the years it has become a treasured part of my visits. I thought about going to the Meeting closest to my house a number of times. Shyness and the need to be up and out early on Sunday morning kept me away. This January I took a class at the North Bennett Street School in Boston which required me to be up and out of the house before 7am for 5 Saturdays. Being the creature of habit that I am, it also meant that I was up and ready to be moving early on Sunday mornings.

So that first Sunday of January I went to Worship at Wellesley Friends Meeting. What I have found there is a welcoming community. I knew a couple of the members before, they sing in the Broadmoor Chamber Singers with Amy. When I first walked through the doors I wasn't sure if I was going to become a regular attender, but I have. Meeting has become a regular part of my week, and the people are becoming not just Friends but also friends.

Which brings me back to Saturday when I joined 13 other people from the Meeting to march in the Pride parade. There was a party atmosphere at the start. There were balloons and beads and lots of smiles. We took lots of pictures as we waited for the parade to start. The only politics evident were the political candidates working the crowd, and the Obama supporters just ahead of us in line.

We walked through the streets of Boston to the cheers of the crowd, though at least a few of those were for the free t-shirts being tossed from the motorized trolley in front of us. There were familiar faces in the crowd, and lots of smiles. I did okay until the pace picked up as we headed up Beacon Hill toward the State House. At that point I had to drop back, rest a moment and catch my breath before continuing on. I did finish the march – mostly by myself as a major gap had developed – and connected with the rest of our group on City Hall Plaza before heading home.

And now some twenty years after I attended my first Pride event, I can finally say that I have marched in the Pride parade.

Waiting for the start.

Ready to go.