how to be an effective ally to queer and trans folks.
I am begging you to put the pride flag down for a second and read this.
Queering the Burbs is a regularly-published distillation of pop culture, politics and queerness written by Joe Erbentraut. If you like what you see, please consider subscribing (many posts are free!), liking or sharing this piece. Order Joe’s new zine and check out his new merch at the Queering the Burbs virtual gift shop.
So, things are pretty bad right now. It’s pretty clear the Trump administration is just beginning its efforts to erase trans and queer people from public life to the full extent that any government can attempt to do. Just over the course of one week, we’ve seen the removal of the letters “T” and “Q” from the National Park Service’s Stonewall National Monument website, the Trump takeover of the Kennedy Center result in the cancellation of various Pride and even tangentially LGBTQ+ related events, and the abrupt altering of “thousands” of government websites to remove so-called “gender ideology extremism.”
Anti-trans sentiment has also come to the Fox Valley, including specifically to the heart of downtown Batavia. Twice so far this year, a lone protester has traveled to the city to hold up a transphobic protest sign outside of popular downtown businesses. This protester is always accompanied by a camera person, and the resulting video footage of any opposition the protester faces—along with any audio recordings of related 911 calls—have been posted to the protester’s YouTube channel.
While it might be tempting, initially, to dismiss all of this as the actions of one lonely person who is apparently short on hobbies, the size of the protester’s YouTube following is cause for alarm. The channel boasts an audience of over 17,000 subscribers and its four recent videos filmed in downtown Batavia have amassed a combined viewership of 92,000 views so far.
These aren’t blockbuster numbers to quit a day job over—read celebrity food personality Carla Lalli Music’s new essay on what it costs to consistently create high-quality videos for YouTube for a harsh reality check there—it’s enough of an audience that it could potentially help inspire more followers of this protester to descend upon our “weird” (as this protester describes it) little river town.
The best response to this protester, in my mind, is to ignore him. Deny him the content he craves. This individual kicks off every video of his protests outside pro-LGBTQ+ businesses, drag shows, and Pride events with a highlight reel of the most impassioned verbal pushback he receives. He thrives on it. And he especially thrives, unfortunately, on the presence of counter-protests.
This is the guidance my friends and I have been sharing with some business leaders in our community in recent days since the protester’s latest appearance in Batavia, but our message has been met with some pushback. Why shouldn’t we take this as an opportunity to loudly and vocally express support for queer and trans communities? Why would we not want to do that? Isn’t that what we want?
No, I am saying we don’t want that. I absolutely recognize and appreciate the impulse to want to do something positive in response to this toxic masculine, fascist negativity. But I also understand that we must resist the urge to feed the trolls.
As I wrote in my essay here last month, it is a futile effort to engage in any way with this administration’s rage-baiting trollish supporters, whether that be in a Facebook comment section or on a downtown sidewalk. It will only lead to your own growing feelings of frustration and will not change anyone’s views. In this case, engaging in public with people like this protester will make it more likely for him to return, possibly with some of his 17,000 subscribers with him. The result? An environment that is even less safe for the queer and trans people who live here, an environment that is more frightening and likely to be less profitable for the pro-LGBTQ+ businesses that are being targeted by these protests.
All of this is contrary to what the queer and trans people I’ve spoken with about these protests want to see happen in our town. We want to feel safe in our community. We want to see our queer and ally businesses succeed and grow. We want to see the best aspects of the town we call home—a town that has grown increasingly queer-friendly in recent years and is overwhelmingly opposed to this protester’s sentiments—continue to flourish along that trajectory.
That is our hope here, and as this paper from Yale University’s School of Management puts it in their exploration of what makes for the most effective allyship with marginalized communities, the “people directly affected by an issue should be the ones to decide which goals are most important and how to achieve them.”
At the core of effective allyship, the Yale paper notes, is listening first to the people most directly affected by an issue or concern at hand—in this case, the queer and trans people who live here. Then it is up to allies to put ego aside to help turn that vision into a reality using the strategies identified by those affected individuals.
Anything short of the above, I’m sorry to say, regardless of intention, isn’t that helpful—right now, or ever.
This dynamic—with well-intended allyship actually having adverse impacts for vulnerable, marginalized communities, against those communities’ wishes—has also reared its head in response to this presidential administration’s attempts to dramatically up its immigration enforcement efforts.
In the days leading up to the inauguration, reports emerged that immigration enforcement would specifically target the Chicago area. After the inauguration, immigration officers did indeed arrive in the area, but the very real threat of arrest was clouded by widespread, unverified social media postings—many of them likely pranks—about where ICE had or hadn’t been spotted throughout the region.
Posting and spreading these reports helped more to spread fear than to actually keep vulnerable families safe, and went against the guidance of immigrant rights groups, but the practice has continued. (Sidebar: Here is what immigrant rights groups want you to do if you encounter a report of an ICE raid in your community, or believe you may be witnessing one yourself. If you are in Illinois, for example, you can report a suspected ICE raid you witness by calling the Illinois Coalition for Immigrant and Refugee Rights.)
So again, the steps to follow if you’re looking for your allyship for marginalized communities to actually be helpful are, as shared in this CultureAlly:
Be willing to learn about the lived experience of marginalized people
Listen actively to marginalized people, centering them in the matter at hand
Be humble and open to feedback, acknowledging where and when your own biases or prejudices might color your point of view on an issue
Take action to create change in your circles of influence, such as where you work or the town you live in
Use your privilege and resources for good, creating opportunities for marginalized people
Of course, the above tips are evergreen guidance, but they are especially important in times like these—moments of crisis for local organizers and activists.
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SONG OF THE RIGHT-NOW
I don’t know if it’s because I just got tickets to see Bloc Party and Metric perform their seminal albums Silent Alarm and Fantasies live this summer at the Salt Shed or just the general malaise of the political environment and the midwinter chill, but I’ve been back on a mid-aughts indie kick lately. This path coincided with my dear friend Jaime (who drew the armed goose on the cover of my zine) gifting me an extra copy she had of Stars’ 2004 album Set Yourself on Fire on vinyl.
This album was everything for my angsty 20-something heart when I first encountered it and I’ve been enjoying diving back into it. The standout track I keep coming back to, though, is the album-ending barn-burner “Calendar Girl.” They just don’t really make ‘em like this anymore. Enjoy this 2019 live performance:
But I can't live forever, I can't always be
One day I'll be sand on a beach by the sea
The pages keep turning, I'll mark off each day with a cross
And I'll laugh about all that we've lost
Reading. Listening. Solidarity is always the way.
Also that Stars album is beautifully brutal and nostalgic for me as well