When I finally arrived at my first gay bar, I was disheartened by what I found. Most importantly, these individuals showed me the resilience of the queer and trans community, a community whose people have been and still are vulnerable and oppressed today, especially those of color.īearing all of this mind, I was ready to enter my first gay bar itching to (try to) death drop like Shangela (a former contestant on RuPaul’s Drag Race), walk like Pepper LaBeija (the late house mother of the “House of LaBeija”), and serve “Pretty Girl, 1986” realness. Photo Credit: Hotlanta Voyeur/ Flickr (CC BY 2.0) These pieces of media showcased queer, trans, and gay folk who challenged societal and gender norms, wore outlandish, yet awe-inspiring, costumes, vogued the house down, threw shade, lip-synced for their lives, and wore their identities as badges of honor. Prior to entering the gay spaces of DC, my knowledge of gay culture was limited to what I watched on RuPaul’s Drag Raceand Jennie Livingston’s Paris is Burning. I was excited to move how I wanted, talk how I wanted, and wear what I wanted without fear of judgement or harassment from others.
So, when the chance came for me to finally go to a party space made by and for gay people, I was utterly giddy. My bar/club experience in the DC scene was limited to the predominantly straight spaces where songs foreign to my young, queer heart reigned supreme. Hearing these songs play in the background of my first gay bar was not only a great change of pace, but also a breath of fresh air. Other popular go-to gay anthems included “No Scrubs” by TLC and, of course, “I Wanna Dance with Somebody” by the late, great Whitney Houston (“How Will I Know” is the superior Whitney song, however. Robyn’s “Dancing On My Own” was, unsurprisingly, blaring on the DJ’s speakers. I remember my first time at a gay bar in DC. I keep dancing on my own (I keep dancing on my own)…” “I’m giving it my all, but I’m not the girl you’re taking home, ooh.