Action: Heather and Lee wrote a commentary about being LGBT in the South that appeared in the Mountain XPress, a weekly paper in Asheville, NC, that reaches thousands. They also wrote a companion piece sharing the back story of this action, including what it feels like to be out in this public way.
Community: Asheville, NC
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Gay is the new local
LGBT culture part of Asheville’s unique identity
Published in the Mountain Xpress, Vol. 17 / Iss. 52 on 07/19/2011
Recently, the two of us sat on Lexington Avenue reading Mountain Xpress aloud to each other. It’s something we do while we take in the goings-on in our neighborhood.
We live in downtown Asheville, and while we appreciate the quirky spunk of West Asheville, the almost rural feel of Fairview, the old-school Southern charm of Beaver Lake, downtown embodies what we truly love about this city — the local-business culture, good walking, the constant emergence and subsequent disappearance of first-rate street art (what some people call “graffiti”).
We were drawn to Asheville for all the reasons everyone is, but also because of where we come from and how unsafe many places can be for us. Both of us are Southern and queer: From our perspective, there isn’t a better place for Southern LGBT folks than Asheville. In the years Heather lived in Nashville, she often joked that Asheville might be the one Southern place where you faced a greater threat for being a homophobe than for being gay.
Lately, however, we worry that Asheville is increasingly resembling the Southern towns we’re from (Baton Rouge, La., and Gastonia, N.C.) and, in the process, becoming less safe for us and for the Asheville community we love.
We attended the Feb. 22 City Council meeting described by James Dye in a recent Mountain Xpress commentary [see “How Do You Spell ‘Respect,’” June 29], in which Asheville adopted a pro-LGBT ordinance. In fact, we walked to the City Building from our apartment in the late afternoon. We sat together, and for most of the meeting, we held hands — despite the disgusted looks and whispers.
That didn’t surprise us, because we knew there would be many in attendance who would virulently oppose the city ordinance, which notably outlaws bullying on city property. But we hadn’t anticipated feeling so nervous about leaving the building after the meeting that we quickly found the stairwell and literally ran home.
We hadn’t anticipated that in living together downtown, making Biltmore Avenue and Wall Street our neighborhood, we would be openly stared, pointed and laughed at on a daily basis.
We were shocked when, while walking home just after dark on a summer evening, two men who appeared to be lost (and thus, presumably, not local) began following us. They made several jokes that were hard to comprehend (as so much racist, sexist and homophobic humor is). We had only just closed our apartment building’s gate behind us when they tried to follow us in for what we imagine would not have been a very Asheville Zen-like scene.
True, we were holding hands. But that’s why we moved to Asheville — because it was a place where we believed we could.
Dye’s perhaps ironic comment was, “It’s alarmist, perhaps even ‘a lie from the pit of hell,’ to intimate that such violence could happen here,” referring to the murder of gay-rights activist David Kato Kisule in Kampala. Increasingly, however, it’s quite realistic to suggest that such violence is not only possible but probable here.
With Asheville’s exploding popularity as a Southern tourist destination, this city will see more and more visitors who may be unaware that last year, advocate.com named Asheville the 12th gayest city in America. To be sure, some will be delighted that in a starkly conservative part of the country, Asheville is a haven for all things progressive. But others will undoubtedly be shocked to learn who populates this town.
Research on hate crimes has shown that the perceived ascendancy of minorities elicits a kind of rage that frequently results in verbal threats and sometimes violence. The ever-growing tourism resulting from so much Asheville buzz in the national media, together with recent gay victories both locally and nationally (congratulations, New York!) create the potential for Asheville’s own series of unfortunate events.
The Asheville Grown campaign has taken off. Almost every single storefront in our neighborhood features the smartly designed “Love Asheville” or “Local is the New Black” posters. This campaign resonates with people who live here and LOVE that they do. And while the regional economy depends on tourism dollars, it’s up to the locals to preserve our unique identity by resisting the importation of that which doesn’t jibe with our culture.
Asheville is a great town; Asheville is a gay town. These facts are inextricably linked. Many of the things that make Asheville great — the vibrancy of art, the culinary innovation, the preservation of the landscape, the delightful range of family life — are brought to you by LGBTQ Ashevilleans.
In response to tourists who might be shocked or disgusted to discover our gay town, consider initiating a personal public-service campaign. Challenge snide comments. Catch the eye of people staring, nod and smile. Confront the homophobia endemic to so many American towns. Keeping Asheville gay is part of keeping Asheville great.
The most popular Asheville Grown poster features the provocative slogan “Love Asheville. Put Your $ Where Your ❤ Is. Buy Local.” We issue the following challenge: Love Asheville. Put Your Heart Where the Love Is. Love Gays.
— Heather Talley is regular contributor to http://www.thefeministwire.com. Lee Crayton is a Ph.D. candidate at John Jay College of Criminal Justice.
Back Story
What it means to Heather and Lee.
We have both navigated being out in a range of ways. In some years and in some spaces, we were closeted. More often than not we have looked for signals that it was safe to reveal who we truly are. In June, we attended the Campaign for Southern Equality’s (CSE) first Family Dinner. We were deeply compelled by the ethical framework that guides CSE’s mission–LGBTQ folks are, already by our very human nature, equal. Yet, discriminatory laws and everyday homophobia and transphobia perpetrate a threat to the dignity of LGBTQ people. This approach counters the very powerful message that discriminatory policies, cultural stereotypes, and hateful words collectively send–that we are NOT fully human.
LGBTQ people constantly meet an insidious stereotype–that we are deceptive, dishonest, secretive. This is one of those stereotypes with some basis in reality. Many LGBTQ people are closeted. We hide who we are to strangers and acquaintances and sometimes to those who are deeply important to us. Some of us take efforts to manage the truth of our lives. We reveal who we are in some places and subtly conceal certain details in other spaces. Sometimes this hiding is used against us to imply that there is something intrinsically immoral or sordid about who we are. “If being a gay or lesbian, bisexual or transgender person were really okay, then you wouldn’t have to hide it.” This accusation ignores that concealing who we are is a coping skill. It is a rational response to the very real and deeply threatening consequences of being an out lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, or queer person.
Coming out is risky. In North Carolina and in most states, it is absolutely legal to be fired because of one’s sexuality or gender identity. As countless incidents of hate motivated violence indicate, physical harm is sometimes a response to being perceived as an LGBTQ person. Upon coming out, we risk alienation from our families and exclusion in church, work, and neighborhood communities, places that are deeply important to us. As we have navigated how to be out, when, and to whom, we have wrestled with each of these risks. In the days between writing a Commentary that would undoubtedly “out” us in new ways, we admitted how fragile we felt to one another. What could happen? And if it did, what would we do? These were scary conversations, and in moments, we questioned if being out in such a public way was a good idea.
Yet, in this historical moment, in this Southern place, in this political climate, publicly stating who we authentically are carries significant power. It attests to our precious humanity as we affirm who we are and convey to other LGBTQ folks their intrinsic worth. Coming out also allows us to publicly name the often invisible costs of being a LGBTQ person. While it is true that there are costs that we both fear for being out (both via the Mountain XPress Commentary attached and CSE’s Coming Out Campaign), we believe that there is something powerful to be gained by living more authentically everyday.
Every LGBTQ person has moments in which the costs of coming out seem too great. Why should we have to take on the risk of losing a job or encountering violence? The truth is we shouldn’t. We shouldn’t have to experience such great consequences for being our authentic selves. We shouldn’t, but we do. Coming out is one way in which we can create a world that honors each of us. We invite you to join us.
