The Ethos of Queer Neighborhoods

There is tremendous value in sustaining and growing LGBTQ neighborhoods and enclaves of safety and community.

Today during breakfast at my local favorite restaurant and as I was walking home in my Castro neighborhood of San Francisco, I overheard numerous conversations and engaged in a few with friends I saw out and about starting their morning too.

I was struck by the conversations. Politics of the progressive ilk. Books read and enjoyed. Local favorite places to eat and hang out. One young couple nearby was recounting their recent coming out stories. Two people were discussing a big queer fundraising event they were attending. Another conversation that passed by me on the sidewalk was discussing polyamory.

Ah, my queer neighborhood bubble. How often I take it for granted. But sometimes, often suddenly and without warning, I’m in awe of the life I’m able to lead while at the same time entirely aware I’m lucky. Any queer person who’s able to live in an enclave of LGBTQ people and those who happily co-exist alongside them are lucky.

Queer neighborhoods have their own distinct ethos. They gather in one place people who for the most part share common values and guiding beliefs. Not everyone agrees on everything, but for the bigger issues queer neighborhood residents are generally on the same page.

However, when it comes to queer neighborhoods, even queer people themselves sometimes disagree about their necessity and usefulness.

Some decry the “bubble” mentality and how it skews one’s worldview. My counter? Without the queer bubbles in which activism and organization often first emanate, where would our civil rights be today?

Some suggest that it’s only by LGBTQ people scattering everywhere including right-leaning areas that queer people will gain maximum political power. My counter? As LGBTQ civil rights icon Cleve Jones has stated publicly, the loss of queer neighborhoods means a loss of concentrated political power at the local level. This is also why even in right-leaning areas it’s important to have some sort of centralized queer presence, even if it’s just a few queer businesses along a tucked away street.

Some falsely believe that greater LGBTQ acceptance is everywhere and that we need our queer neighborhoods less. My counter? We need our safe havens. We deserve to live in places where we can openly express our identities without fear of judgment, discrimination, or violence. Studies have been done about why queer neighborhoods (sometimes referred to as gayborhoods) are still important.

Recent research found that two-thirds of Brish queer residents avoid holding hands with their partners in public. In my queer Castro neighborhood of San Francisco, I never hesitate for a moment to hold another man’s hand. It’s simply not an issue here. That matters. The reduction in stress and gain in joy is palpable when one can be their true self in public.

Most queer neighborhoods reside in big urban cities. That makes sense. When there’s a critical mass of LGBTQ people in one place, it’s easier to carve out a smidgen of city space to create an environment in which we feel welcome and safer. But LGBTQ people reside in rural areas too. Even in those places, queer people often figure out how to create their smaller versions of queer safe space. I recall in my youth discovering the local queer bar in my small college town and how monumentally comforting it was knowing such a place existed near my campus.

This article nicely sums some of the important reasons why queer neighborhood matter.

• LGBTQ+ identity and visibility
• Community and support
• Economic and cultural contributions
• Advocacy and activism

Quietly I roll my eyes when I hear a queer person suggest that our neighborhoods don’t matter anymore. Are they seeing the same political landscape I am? Do they not see the rising homophobia and transphobia infecting our country from right-wing hate mongers?

Whenever someone queer claims their non-queer neighborhood is entirely accepting of them, I ask them if they can comfortably kiss a same-sex partner in front of their house. Rarely do they answer they can. That sums up quite nicely that we’re far from not needing queer neighborhoods,

I’ll fully support queer people living in anyplace they decide because of course we all should have the freedom to do so, but it’s not likely in my lifetime we’ll have an American society in which I will feel as entirely comfortable and authentic in a non-queer neighborhood as I do in my own queer one.

Let me address one final point that often comes up — economic privilege. It’s a thing. No doubt. Living in dense urban areas is often more expensive than living in rural ones. Sustaining a queer neighborhood is difficult. Often queer people gentrify a downtrodden area of a city, only to have real estate prices drastically rise and subsequently shove them out because they can no longer afford it. My own neighborhood is an excellent example of that phenomenon that happens over and over to queer neighborhoods.

But without the activism and organization that often emanates from the dense urban cities and queer neighborhoods, life for rural queer people would be far worse than it is today. So, it’s incumbent upon those of us lucky enough to be able to live in a queer neighborhood to support LGBTQ people who do not. Maybe toss some money toward a rural queer nonprofit or community center to help foster a better life for others. Here’s a list of rural LGBTQ resources you might find useful.

The main places I’ve lived during my lifetime are Chicago, New York City, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Palm Springs, and Las Vegas. All of them have active LGBTQ communities big enough to sustain queer bars, businesses, organizations, and support services. I’m grateful I’ve lived in all those places. My heart goes out to those queer people who must live somewhere they’re not fully welcomed. Let’s hope the world changes enough that queer neighborhoods aren’t as vital as they still are. I doubt that will happen within my lifetime. But I can hope.

You can use this link to access all my writings, social media, and ways to support my work.