June 30, 2020

Diana Ejaita

By Lena Wilson

“Even in the L.G.B.T. movement, men are still on top, because I mean, that’s the world we live in.”

— Francesca Barjon, organizer for Reclaim Pride

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On April 24, 1993, the Lesbian Avengers, a New York City-based activist group, decided to hold the first dyke march in Washington, D.C. It was the day before the March on Washington for Lesbian, Gay and Bi Equal Rights and Liberation — which, despite the name, would have no dedicated portion for lesbians.

The event was advertised with fliers and by word of mouth.

“They expected maybe a few hundred people, if they were lucky,” said Lillian Faderman, a scholar of L.G.B.T.Q. and lesbian history.

But 20,000 lesbians showed up.

Dyke marches, which have since spread across the country to cities like New York, Chicago, San Francisco and Seattle, aim to bring thousands together during Pride Month. At first, the marches were mainly intended to increase lesbian visibility, but these days dyke marches and other grass-roots Pride events have represented a broader push for demonstrations and celebrations for everyone outside of the white, gay male norm.

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While gatherings like The Dinah, the Ohio Lesbian Festival and Womxn of Color Weekend unite lesbians and queer women all year round, opportunities for women to unite during Pride can be surprisingly scarce.

“There’s a lot more things for men,” said Rita Bouchedid, a social worker in New Jersey, who organized a virtual lesbian music festival this year.

Factor in the pandemic, and what little existed for women is getting squeezed even more, as organizers postpone their events or move them online.

QueerGirl hosted its first Pride tour last year. Approximately 3,500 women showed up to its D.J.- and influencer-hosted parties, which took over clubs during Pride weekends in cities like Denver, Phoenix, Houston and Tampa, Fla.

This year, plans to expand the tour to 12 cities have been scaled back to just three scheduled events in October and November.

“Sometimes it’s really hard to find community,” said Genevieve Greschler, chief executive of the San Diego-based company QueerGirl Events. “So creating these events and creating a space where people can find like-minded individuals who have similarities, like being a queer female, is just really important.”

“Even people who aren’t identifying as queer or female are always welcome to these events,” said Debbie Masliah, the chief creative officer of QueerGirl. “It puts an emphasis on queer females, because there’s honestly not much out there for us.”

In Montreal, Lez Spread the Word, a queer organization and annual magazine “devoted to producing content by and for queer women,” plans to offer some Pride events as the city eases restrictions on public gatherings, including a socially distanced Pride run and a gathering at the Ping Pong Club.

Ms. Bouchedid, the social worker, created the Queer Women of Pride Virtual Music Festival spotlighting female musicians and performers. The event was streamed on Facebook on Sunday. As with the Queer Women of Color Film Festival and Curve Magazine’s Virtual Festival, Ms. Bouchedid wanted to provide an online event for lesbians and queer women during the ongoing battle against Covid-19.

“White, cis men are always in front, and always the ones to get funding from Pride organizations or just from sponsors,” said Florence Gagnon, founder and creative director of Lez Spread the Word. “We’ve been working with L.G.B.T.Q. women and nonbinary folks for a long time, and I think we have to take the space that we want.”

“Even in the L.G.B.T. movement, men are still on top, because I mean, that’s the world we live in,” Francesca Barjon, an organizer for Reclaim Pride, echoed in a separate interview. Even white lesbians are not the main cultural representatives of Pride, she said, “because they’re still women.”

Ms. Barjon, who is Black and identifies as bisexual, said she felt alienated from New York’s mainstream Pride parade not only because of its white, male iconography, but also because of its partnerships with corporations and inclusion of the police.

“It can be so hard, sometimes, as a Black woman, to just feel like we show up, and there’s not always reciprocity in who shows up for people,” Ms. Barjon said.

For many, police inclusion at Pride feels especially fraught this year, with some groups refocusing on Black activism during Pride.

On June 28, Reclaim Pride hosted a Queer Liberation March for Black Lives and Against Police Brutality.

The N.Y.C. Dyke March is another L.G.B.T.Q. group making an effort to focus on Black activism during Pride. Because of the coronavirus pandemic, they had originally planned to stream photos and videos in celebration of Dyke March.

But “because of Black Lives Matter, it just does not seem appropriate right now to do any of that,” said Stephanie Garces, an organizer for Dyke March. “We want to instead put all of our time and energy into uplifting Black voices and putting all of our support through Black-run protests and demonstrations.”

Valarie Walker, a member of the Lesbian Avengers who organized this year’s Juneteeth Break the Chains With Love March, said she was moved when N.Y.C. Dyke March organizers reached out to offer marshals to support her event.

As a Black lesbian, Ms. Walker said, the Dyke March was one of just a few spaces where she felt she could “freely be 100 percent me.”

Today, the N.Y.C. Dyke March is no longer organized under the Lesbian Avengers, but younger activists are still eager to keep its spirit alive.

“I think that we very much try to come from that same D.I.Y., or, you know, dyke-it-yourself, vein,” said Terry Ferreira, a N.Y.C. Dyke March organizer.

“We don’t need you, in the words of Kathleen Hanna, to sanction what we’re doing, or to give us permission,” Ms. Ferreira said. “We’re going to move toward and gravitate toward things that we think are important and lend our support.”

What else is happening

Here are three articles from The Times you may have missed.

P.S. Spencer

“I have rape-colored skin.” The poet Caroline Randall Williams writes about how her body, which has descended from people who were owned and raped by white people, is a Confederate monument in itself. [Read the Opinion]
“This was really just ‘Supreme Court 101’ for all nine of the justices.” The Supreme Court struck down a Louisiana abortion law that required doctors who perform the procedure to have admitting privileges at nearby hospitals — placing an undue burden on access. While conservatives reacted with fury, progressive groups countered that the court’s decision was a routine application of precedent. [Read the story]
“These narratives have far too long been told from a white male gaze.” A new two-part documentary, “And She Could Be Next,” follows the campaigns of several female politicians of color to look at what a systemic shift actually looks like. [Read the story]

Today’s In Her Words is written by Lena Wilson and edited by Francesca Donner. Our art director is Catherine Gilmore-Barnes, and our photo editor is Sandra Stevenson.

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