my video about melanated queer spaces is going mini-viral

Written by Daphne Bryant

 

All images from @honeys.la

 

My video about melanated queuer spaces is going viral, and for good reason.

For context, nightlife is something I’ve always had a complicated relationship with. I never drank or smoked in high school, and the kinds of parties I went to were more like goofy get-togethers. I’ve been to maybe two frats and never owned a fake ID, so at the beginning of college I wasn’t going out a whole lot either. I know right now I probably sound extremely boring and not fun at all, but you should also know that I absolutely love to dance. I love music. I could dance entire nights away and never get bored,and for that reason I’ve always fantasized about the day I turn 21 and can comfortably go out to clubs and bars and party. Like fr fr party, not jump up and down in a sweaty basement with a bunch of annoying white guys party.

Another thing you should know about me is that I am very, very gay. I’ve been out for two years, but apart from school I still haven’t experienced many queer spaces. I went to Henrietta’s for NYC Pride which was pretty fun (and moving in a sentimental sort of way). Lauren Sanderson’s concert was so gay that she basically turned The Roadrunner into a lesbian bar. Club Cafe in Boston was also very queer. But that’s kind of it, and to be honest...it’s not really the community’s fault that queer spaces in general are hard to come by. There is a long history of homophobia in this country that prevents queerness in general from being widely accepted, and that limits our visibility and opportunities (and don’t act like it doesn’t just because there’s been some progress). The number of lesbian and gay bars have been dwindling for decades, and even in those spaces there are often straight people who show up and ruin it for everyone.

It’s not a bad thing to want a space for yourself.Why do you think sports bars exist, or why do you think there are clubs and bars that are pretty much exclusive for black people? As humans we like to feel connected to people that are like us. We want to be around people who know the lyrics to our favorite songs, who understand our lingo, and who share similar backgrounds, especially in a social club setting.That’s why it pisses me off when people say we don’t need LGBTQIA+ spaces anymore because“ things have gotten better” or “ so much is online now.” As long as there are queer people who want to go out, get drunk and get lit, there is going to be a need for queer spaces. For us, it’s a safety thing as well. 9 times out of 10 we know we won’t be discriminated against or fetishized for our sexual orientations or gender identities at a queer bar, but cowering under the male gaze at a bar dominated by straight people is a different story.

Finding cool queer spaces is difficult, but melanated queer spaces is even harder. There are so many BIPOC members of the queer community out there, and yet in most of the photos, videos and rep I see of queer people, whiteness dominates. It’s as though, even in such a loving, fruity and welcoming realm of the world, we as people of color still have to cater to white supremacy and the preferences that white gays uphold. It’s manageable at first, but then it becomes exhausting. Because my identities are so intersectional, for a truly fire clubbing or going out experience I need more than the same old techno beats or Taylor Swift remixes. I want to hear sexy slow jams, I want to hear old school hip hop, I want to hear reggaeton that I can whine my hips to, and I still want to be gay as fuck.

That’s why I made the video about queer venues in Los Angeles that play R&B and hip hop, or in other words, have flavorrr. The recommendations started flowing in, and right now the video is at almost 30k views, with over 1.5k saves. A community of sorts has been formed in the throngs of my comment section, where everyone and their mothers is giving their opinions on the best places, DJs and organizations. Some people have even reached out to me wanting to hangout, and vice versa. As someone who recently moved to LA (like literally a week ago), this situation couldn’t be more perfect.I’m hoping that this video reaches everyone who needs to see it, or even just see that there is a market for queer, melanated spaces and that even in an incredibly diverse city like LA, we still need more of them.

 
 

I think a lot of cities could learn from Atlanta, where I’m from.I neglected to mention it earlier so that I could mention it here, but one of the coolest experiences I’ve had period was at My Sister’s Room in Atlanta, one of very few lesbian bars in the south. The DJs were two studs in a relationship, and the music was so fucking good; I’m talking Kehlani, Montell Jordan, Victoria Monét. There were performers of all ethnicities and gender presentations who pulled patrons up on stage for a strip show. I had to lift my jaw up off the floor several times because I couldn’t believe I was actually in such a sexually liberating and sapphic space.And God, it was so. damn. black. Everyone was either singing or dancing or flirting, and the culture in the room was just palpable. Even the bouncers, who were all white mascs, had that ATL edge to them (and not in a hey mamas kind of way either).It was just so sick, and that’s the kind of experience I want to have when I go out.

“I had to lift my jaw up off the floor several times because I couldn’t believe I was actually in such a sexually liberating and sapphic space. And god, it was so. damn. black.”

I hope that more people pay attention to queer, BIPOC voices when we say we need y’all to do better, and who knows? Hit up a melanated ass club, and you might just have a better time partying with us than you did before we reclaimed the game.

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daphne’s diary entry #4