A Colorful and Queered Representation of GLBT History in San Francisco

A few days ago I went to the GLBT Historical Society’s current exhibition named Passionate Struggle: Dynamics of San Francisco’s GLBT History. As described on the Society’s website, “Passionate Struggle traces elements of our communities’ affinities and differences. It takes you from the bedrooms and back rooms to the bookstores and bars, from Harvey Milk’s victory to transgender sex workers’ riots, from social movements to secret fantasies.” 

Despite the information provided online, which emphasizes “our communities’ affinities and differences,” I had certain expectations. After going to a couple of disappointing exhibitions about GLBT history, I have become relatively cynical about how gender, racial, and ethnic diversity will—or won’t be—represented in such public displays. It has also been my experience that a good number of texts dealing with the history of sexuality in general, and queer history specifically, will both whitewash and privilege male voices. Examples are certainly plentiful. As such, I expected something similar from this particular event, and I was preparing for Passionate Struggle to be yet another let down. I anticipated walking into the Historical Society and being met with a plethora of artifacts depicting and expressing the anger of white gay men who have rightfully demanded and fought for social equality.

As far as diversity goes, I expected at most some level of relatively minor inclusion of women and a superficial nod to the participation of queer people of color and transgendered folks. Things, however, proved to be quite different from what I prepared myself for. Rather than following some sort of historical linearity, the exhibition was broken down into four specific categories: “Places,” “Politics,” “Pleasures,” and “People.” Now what I find to be important about the structural organization is that it works against a version of history that simply outlines a specific set of events and people, which often involve only white homosexuals.

San Francisco’s GLBT history, in my view, is nicely portrayed as complex and diverse. Voices and artifacts present are multifarious. They range from those belonging to the African American disco diva Sylvester and Harvey Milk, from those belonging to transgendered sex workers whom were part of Compton’s Cafeteria Riot and late-20th century queer people of color HIV/AIDS activist organizations, and beyond.

Something that particularly sticks out in my memory of the exhibition is the historical account of José Julio Sarria. Sarria, a U.S. born Latin American drag queen and political activist, was the first openly gay candidate for public office in the United States. In 1961, well before Milk’s public political engagement and campaigns, he ran for the San Francisco Board of Supervisors. Not successful in the sense of being elected, he did, however, win over a large number of voters. Unfortunately, in the whitewashed and homonormative lessons of GLBT history many of us are taught, this particular narrative is not promoted and perhaps largely unknown to non-heterosexuals and heterosexuals alike. Instead, we focus our energies on and celebrate men like Harvey Milk who should undoubtedly be commemorated, but not at the necessary expense of the erasure of queer people of color’s (and also women’s and trans folks’) significant and groundbreaking activity from presentations of our communities’ past events.

Passionate Struggle provides an alternative to homonormative GLBT history. It’s an important archival record of part of San Francisco’s heterogeneous socio- and politico-sexual history that is too often ignored and excluded. I hope readers will make time to visit the GLBT Historical Society located in San Francisco’s Castro District, for it most certainly will be a valuable and enriching learning experience.