Lesbian Life Comparison through the decades

[Cin]

I just signed in and what a nice surprise. This is a great threat. Thanks Virago.

I don't know much about the bar scene nowadays since I haven't had a drink since 1990 and pretty much stay out of bars unless I have a good reason to be there, like a wedding or funeral or brunch at the Club Café in Boston or some such. But I pretty much grew up in bars so it was natural for me to gravitate toward lesbian bars when I came out. Mostly I remember them being called women's bars, at least in Boston. I remember Somewhere Else and Saints and a couple of gay bars whose names I can't recall but that had women's nights. As a teenager I lived in Fall River, MA and went to a gay bar there called the Sword & Shield. It was mixed- both men and women. It wasn't a big city so I guess we didn't have enough queers to populate more than one bar so we all drank and danced together. There was the Randolph Country Club (it wasn't really a country club, imagine a lesbian country club, if they actually had one I wouldn't have been able to afford to join it though) that had a pool which was pretty awesome in the day, you could swim, shoot pool and get shitfaced all in the same area not to mention pick up women. I do remember that butch and femme was not an acceptable identity in those days. It's kind of funny when I look back because I always dated femmes although they didn't identify as such and I always looked butch. I just didn't call myself that. I don't think I played it down because, well, because I'm not sure I can, but I certainly managed to deny myself to myself and to anyone listening. I gave lip service to the dogma of the day. Maybe I even believed it. I had issues with men/male/masculinity, stuff I hadn't even begun to look at let alone work through so I definitely agreed that I didn't want to ape men or heterosexual relationships. So I didn't ID as butch, but really if it looks like a duck. And I surely did look like a duck. And I was attracted to women who were femmes, just like the women who were attracted to me were attracted to female masculinity no matter what they called it. It was an interesting time. I really loved the friendships and the camaraderie that comes from a shared experience, especially one that has an element of danger like being out and about in those days did. Although looking back I cringe a bit remembering some of the stuff I said and did, I am grateful I had those spaces and those people. And personally I do love flannel though I don't wear it much anymore unless I'm going for a walk in the woods, which by the way I do an awful lot of. In those days I got to wear flannel as pretty much a uniform. Flannel shirt over a t-shirt, levis, and boots. Happy days.

I also loved hanging at New Words bookstore in Cambridge. Also at the Cambridge Women's Center where I did some volunteering as a young dyke. And at the Trident bookstore and café which wasn't really lesbian space or even gay space, but was always very welcoming space. I did the bars but I also got involved in the women's movement and I remember my first Take Back the Night March, wide eyed baby butch that I was I fell in love with protests. I looked behind me to see hundreds and hundreds of candles glowing in the dark and I might have cried from the sheer awesomeness of it.

I don't know what bars are like now. If there are a lot of lesbian bars or gay bars or not. I think probably not in numbers and certainly not in importance. They just aren't as necessary. They wouldn't matter in the same way. The internet makes finding each other much easier. Online chat rooms also. Buying books online at Amazon and such makes women's bookstores not so important. But I am so grateful they were there when I needed them growing up and coming out. Life may be easier now but it was more exciting then I think. But it's all about perspective I imagine so mileage may vary

[dykeumentary]

OMG RANDALF COUNTRY CLUB!

[CherylNYC]

Yes! I remember the Duchess at the corner of W 4th and 7th Ave S. I'm deathly allergic to even tiny quantities of alcohol, so I didn't and don't go out to to bars, but we all knew where to go.

It's true that butch and femme expression was frowned upon back then. Make-up was discouraged. Long fingernails were anathema. In fact, if you had long fingernails everyone know you couldn't be a real lesbian. Lucky for me, my motorcycle was the badge of a bona-fide bad-ass, so some of my, umm, idiosyncrasies got a pass. NO, I don't miss those times. I especially don't miss the anti-leatherdyke sensibilities that suffused our community back then.

[dykeumentary]

I was one of those dykes that went out dancing 4 nights a week. I worked extra shifts, and didn't eat, so I could go clubbing. I LOVED everything about queer bars when I was young.

Like every other thing I look back on, I'm grateful for the good times (there were many), I fondly remember most of the women I slept with (there were many) and I feel remorse and sadness and shame for the some of the mistakes I made (there were many).
I remember those years for a lot of deaths as well. So many male friends died of AIDS. So many people I knew died in drunk driving accidents and drug overdoses. Everyone was a smoker. There were the women of died of probably-prevenable cancers, but who didn't want to deal with homophobia, or their biology, at a gynecological clinic. And the friends who expressed their gender in ways that made hateful killers feel justified in their actions. And all this bad news was passed along at the bars. And we'd drink to them and party.

So when I think of bars in those days, the memories are a tangle of happiness and grief. I guess very generation feels this way.
It's interesting to hear/talk about, and a valuable comversation.

[Kätzchen]

For five years, when I lived in southern Oregon (Ashland, Medford, Grants Pass - but primarily Ashland), I noticed that I had to make an effort, somehow, at growing or cultivating relations with others in the Lesbian community.

As some, or many might know, there's only a hand full of bars in the metro area (or less) where one might find company. But in southern Oregon, at least between 2003-2008, the only place one could find a place to meet others was not at a bar, but at an Lesbian owned B&B (Morning Glory; they serve awesome cuisine) or at the annual Black & White Ball, which was sponsored by Abdill-Ellis/ Lambda which I think this wonderful organization is no longer around, but has been re-invented to provide services in other kinds of ways.

I loved attending the annual winter dance. Blue Lightening played music for the dance, there was a wet bar too, but even in the tiny town of Ashland, southern Oregon is not really .... a place one can feel any wide margin of safety, like in the tiny blue dot of our metro area. Even nowadays, I still don't feel completely at ease because of my own heightened awareness which is probably brought on by how I feel about maintaining my own personal safety.

When I went to the ball, I wore a long black velvet designer dress, which i dont think fit in well with the styles others in the community wore, but people were very nice, hard to get to know, but over tine, during the five years I sent in Ashland, I made some life long friends. In fact, those five years were the best years of my life , over the course of my life time, I would say. Really lovely community, very interesting and highly private people who touched my life with incredible kindness.

Here's a couple of links for others to read about the Abdill-Ellis couple who were strong members of the community, at one time, and the legacy of their vision for the LGBTQ community with special emphasis for the Lesbian community in a very rural location in southern Oregon.

http://m.mailtribune.com/article/20100818/News/8180328

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roxann...ichelle_Abdill