A depleted bar scene encourages some people to consider alternative social options for GLBT Bostonians
By Alexandra Cavallo 4/27/10
In most respects, Boston is a metropolitan a city on par with such cultural hubs as Manhattan and San Francisco. It might comes as a surprise, then, that Boston's nightlife options for the gay and lesbian community are limited.
It wasn't always this way. As a city in the first state to legalize same-sex unions in 2004, Boston has long fostered a diverse and bustling GLBT community, and cultivated a bar scene to back it up. However, many of Boston's most beloved hotspots have shut their doors over the past few years, for one reason or another.
One in particular, Man Ray, dealt a jarring blow to Boston's gay community. Man Ray was one of Boston's longest-running gay bars, catering to many of the city's most under-represented sub-cultures since 1985. After 20 years, however, Man Ray closed its doors in 2005. The loss of the popular scene-setting club is in no way a death knell for Boston's GLBT nightlife. It is, however, indicative of a call for more, and varied, recreational options for GLBT Bostonians. A number of trend-setting people and organizations in and around Boston have heeded that call.
To wit: a grassroots organization called Guerrilla Queer Bar (GQB) has been pushing the boundaries between hetero and GLBT nightlife options in the city for the last three years. The idea is that its members, GLBT people and their friends, storm a typically "straight" bar or nightclub, guerilla style. A young man named Daniel Heller founded Boston's GQB in the fall of 2007. Heller had just moved to Boston from Washington DC, which had its own chapter of GQB, and thought that Boston would benefit from a chapter. He and co-founder Josh Gerber spent a summer handing out fliers and business cards at gay bars, attempting to interest people in joining their group.
The first GQB event drew a crowd of approximately 40 people, according to current GQB director, Daniel Robinson. Robinson took over the position he calls "Interim Chief Gay Officer" when Heller moved to New York not long ago. Today, Robinson said, when "the stars align and all the factors are in our favor," more than 1,000 people show up to a GQB event. Now, GQB is a well-oiled machine. GQB takes place on the first Friday of every month (they also host various charity and other events throughout the year) upon which a different bar is selected. The Friday before the big night, an e-mail is sent out to all GQB members, announcing the neighborhood that the bar will be in. Members receive another brief email the day before that announces the exact location. Guerrilla bar storming then commences.
Daniel Robinson
Robinson said that, these days however, the guerrilla aspect of the operation has been slowly lost, as many of Boston's bars have become well aware of GQB's existence. However, he said that this awareness and subsequent acceptance speaks to the heart of the organization's mission.
"The mission of the organization is to expand nightlife options for the LGBT community in Boston," Robinson said. "And I think it is important to recognize that the other part of the mission is to make the bars more welcoming and affirming." Robinson said that mission has been more than accomplished. He said that the GQB crowd is overwhelmingly popular with the bars that they have frequently stormed. He said that whenever he talks to a bar manager after an event they are eager to have their group back.
"They're always raving about what an incredible crowd it is, how fun they are, how easy they are, how nobody ever fights," Robinson explained, "We're really popular because out crowd is so pleasant and, plus, we drink a lot. It's just the gays doing their thing."
Robinson went on to say that, happily, they have never experienced any friction with or opposition from the crowd or management at the bars they've stormed, at least not that he is aware of. "I feel that that was always such a constant fear...but it just never panned out," he said. "Even the least welcoming people know better here in Boston."
And, it seems, those people are few and far between. GQB attracts a diverse crowd of guerrilla bar-goers. Robinson said that, though the age of the GQB-ers is skewed mostly younger (the average age is around 25 or 26) they do have a significant number of members in their 40's and 50's as well. Further, they have both men and women, both straight and gay. Though, of course, the majority of their members identify as gay or lesbian. One never knows what a GQB night might have in store, however Robinson pointed out one rule that often remains true.
"You can always tell when the DJ catches on," he laughed. "Because the music switches over to Madonna and Lady GaGa for the rest of the night!"
While Guerrilla Queer Bar is working to expand nightlife options for the GLBT community, other organizations are focused on activities that take place during daytime hours. There are a number of intramural sports leagues in Boston and its suburbs that cater to the GLBT community. These leagues aim to provide fun and welcoming atmosphere for these athletes to come together for a sense of community and some healthy competition.
In Boston alone there are GLBT sports leagues for flag football, bowling, softball, basketball, darts and wrestling, among other sports. Most of these leagues are dedicated as much to the love of sport as they are to fostering a real sense of community for GLBT people who want to meet people outside of the bar scene.
Kevin Collins, 31, is the membership director for the Beantown Softball League. When he joined the league four years ago, there were about16 or 17 teams. Now, he said, there are around 25 teams and their enrollment is going up every year. He joined the league as a way to meet new people.
"I didn't know many people and I had just come out," he said. "I was having a hard time meeting people and found out about the Beantown Softball League through a friend." Collins stressed that one of the great things about the league is the sense of friendly, yet serious, competition. He said players can choose how competitive they want their experience to be, by joining a division that ranges from the very relaxed to the super-competitive. Further, he said, it is simply a wonderful place to meet people and share a sense of community as an alternative to the bars.
"It's just been the greatest experience ever," he raved. "Everyone gets along really great." All of the teams are sponsored by gay-owned or gay-friendly Boston establishments. (Collins' team, the Bayside Betsy Brawlers, is sponsored by Bayside Betsy's Restaurant of Provincetown.) The league travels to competitions all over the country representing Boston. This year, Collins' team traveled to Orlando. Did they win?
"Well," he chuckled, "we sometimes enjoy the social aspects of traveling even more than the actual games!"
However, while the spirit of fun is first and foremost in the league's mission, Collins stresses that the league strives to do what they can for the GLBT community, in terms of service and outreach. Last year, he said, they hosted a Casino Night for the Boston Living Center, a home for homeless and drug -addicted people, many of which, Collins said, havea gay orientation. The league raised $12,000 at the event. That is the point of the league, as Collins sees it, to fosteri a network of people dedicated to the pursuit of fun, sport and social responsibility.
While some people enjoy going out to clubs to dance, that scene just isn't for everyone. So Swingtime Boston, a non-profit organization offers Swing, Latin, Ballroom dancing for the LGBT community.
Liz Nania, co-founder and dance instructor of Swingtime, said Swingtime's mission is to provide a place for GLBT people to partner dance in a safe environment where they will never be made to feel self-conscious or unwanted. Swingtime stresses an atmosphere that is free of judgment and pretension, and appeals to people who might feel awkward dancing "free-style." Nania said that Swingtime draws a diverse client base, including straight members who come simply for the love of dance and the comfortable atmosphere.
"The pressure is completely off," she asserted.
Nania, who came out as bisexual when she was 24 years old and now identifies as a lesbian, said that she founded Swingtime when she was a young dance student and noticed there were no places for queer people to partner dance. She said it is still unique because it is the one place in Boston that she knows of where GLBT people can come and learn any kind of partner dancing.
Further, it provides a safe forum for same-sex couples to dance freely, apart from gay nightclubs, without fearing unwanted attention. Nania said that though same-sex couples are becoming ever more commonplace and accepted, the stigma is not completely gone.
"We still have a long way to go," she said. "Until we have a world where we can all dance together."
To hear more from Liz Nania, watch this short video: