https://www.austinchronicle.com/features/2024-08-09/taking-austins-lgbtq-temperature/
How to talk about an entire queer community within the limited space of weekly print? Interview every single LGBTQ person in Austin? Maybe by next year. In 2024, however, we’re taking the temperature of Austin’s queer scene by chatting with local community leaders – the folks who make Austin as queer as it is. They talk about what’s going on in queer Austin now, how next to improve Austin as a queer-friendly city, and all the cool details about our queer community in between.
Who’s Who: Hernández has served as County Court at Law No. 6’s presiding judge since January 2023. She also moonlights as Lady D, a freestyle rapper who’s won several battles. Although she’s put together mixtapes, no one has heard them “outside of my wife,” Hernández says.
Years in Austin: 11 or 12-ish
The Now: “[Austin] was the first city that I had moved to that I could be in my queerness and feel safe,” Hernández says of Austin’s inclusive spirit. “There’s a really beautiful and strong queer community in Austin that is very visible, which allows all of us to feel like we have community and safety.” She also praises currently established organizations “that are doing, I think, really beautiful, radically authentic work, including Queer Black Women of Austin, Queer Mom, and our local organizations [like] Black Trans Leadership of Austin. These are organizations that are really creating intersection around not just queerness, but queerness and being from oppressed communities, being people of color who are queer, and creating safe space that is intersectional.”
The Next: The judge points to the utilization of inclusive speech as a place where Austin should grow. “Language is a way to create safety,” Hernández explains. “It’s a way to signal inclusivity, and if we aren’t intentional and mindful with the language that we use in our policies, in our awards, in our events, then we can easily create a space that is triggering and harmful and misgenders.” Also needed, Hernández says, is more year-round representation within the qmmunity. “I can hold gratitude and say that we still have so much work to do,” she adds. “It goes beyond showing up during Pride Month; it goes beyond the corporate Pride that we see. How do we really invest in safety where our queer communities of color – our queer communities in general – can thrive?”
On the importance of supporting our trans community: “When we’re including our trans communities, we get to live in an intersectionality that says, 'I see and accept all of you.’ Because even as a queer woman with androgynous and masculine gender expression, it took so long for me to feel safe in that expression, and I’m just starting to feel safe enough to get there.”
Who’s Who: An Austin resident since they moved here for UT-Austin’s film school, Janeway currently works as operations and programs director at LGBTQ youth org Out Youth. They also penned gender-affirming teen guidebook Trans+: Love, Sex, Romance, and Being You with co-writer Karen Rayne.
Years in Austin: 21
The Now: “Always growing, always changing” is how Janeway describes queer Austin. “With that growth has come an increased sense of safety for me as a queer person,” they add. “Twenty years ago, there were very few places that I felt comfortable being visibly queer. Today, I feel comfortable being myself in most places. I also know that my experience isn’t shared by everyone, especially QTBIPOC folks. Austin still has a lot of work to do to make the city safe for everyone.”
The Next: To improve queer Austin life, Janeway brings attention to the recommendations from a recent study from the city of Austin’s LGBTQ Quality of Life Advisory Commission as well as Black Trans Leadership Austin’s Community Needs Assessment. Many recs from the two surveys mirror each other, such as addressing affordable housing, health care disparities, and creating specific and supportive policies centering queer BIPOC Austinites. “While we’ve made some progress,” they say, “there’s still much more to do to ensure LGBTQ+ people in Austin have a better-than-passable quality of life.”
On how Austinites can help local queer youth: “The best thing the community can do to support queer youth is to understand that their lives aren’t easier than generations past. Because our youth are growing up in a time of increased visibility, they’re coming out earlier, but that comes with its own set of challenges that those of us who came out in our 20s and 30s never faced.”
Who’s Who: A DJ, event organizer, and current princess for the House of Juicy Couture, BabiBoi, aka Dorian Delafuente, also produces their own music. Catch them at Cheer Up Charlies running monthly show Soft Serve alongside co-host Gothess Jasmine.
Years in Austin: 5
The Now: For Delafuente, Austin currently stands as the best place for queer Texan musicians. “Right now, I do music full time,” they say. “I DJ and I perform my original music. I do believe that in Texas, Austin is maybe the only city where I’m able to do that, because there is demand for music artists, especially queer music artists.” Room for improvement exists, of course, since there’s “unfair balances that lean toward straight artists, especially straight white music artists,” but overall, “I feel like me and other queer music artists in Austin are actively trying to push that equity within the city,” says Delafuente. “It is a really good place for opportunities. There’s music artists everywhere, all the time. That’s a good thing about Austin.”
The Next: Needed improvements for Austin’s queer scene should include more spaces specific to queer people of color, according to Delafuente. “There is no Black or brown queer bar or club in Austin at all,” they point out. “There are Black and brown straight bars that do queer nights maybe once a month or once a week. But there’s no consistent home base, so even the queer artists that are working do have to be smart about playing to that audience.” Making those spaces will take resources but also community members working together. “It’s more about us, I guess, unionizing and creating our own spaces,” Delafuente says.
On advice for the queers of the future: “Whatever makes you feel good and what makes you feel safe at the same time is what you should be doing. I feel like every year, I just care less about what people do, even in spaces where I may just stick out like a sore thumb. I don’t care if people give me dirty looks or anything. I don’t get shook up about it, whereas, maybe four or five years ago, I definitely did. It’s a forever growing experience, and I feel like that feeling doesn’t ever go away. As long as queer people are not the majority, you’re always going to feel othered. It’s more so about learning how to deal with those feelings and just putting them to the side and being authentic to yourself.”
Who’s Who: A lifelong Austinite, Basüra helps curate drag lineups and much more as show director of Fourth Street staple Rain on 4th.
Years in Austin: 32
The Now: Basüra sees the current Austin queer scene as community-based. “I’ve gotten to see the community rally around each other through the toughest of moments,” they say. “Whether it be for individuals, groups, and organizations, our community has managed to pull together just about every time to make our voices heard and stand in solidarity. Of course there is always room to grow, and there is plenty we can improve, but it’s impeccable to see the resilience and tenacity of the queer scene when community needs are present.”
The Next: Said room to grow includes “[constructive] communication, transparency, and inclusivity,” according to Basüra. “In my opinion, strengthening and developing these three things would not only help us find some common ground but also strengthen our unity.”
On creating Rain on 4th’s drag lineups: “I feel like we are in a 'growing phase’ in our drag community. We have had so many changes and shifts happen within the past year, which has culminated into a new era of Austin drag; naturally there’s going to be some growing pains as we explore further what this will look like in the future. ... Lately we have had an opportunity to test ideas/concepts to put feelers out for what our current audience is wanting or missing. ... We – myself, our hosts, and casts – want to create an experience. We want to build those special moments that make you want to see them over and over again. Recently, we’ve been working on amping up our productions, utilizing our individual skills in collaboration to take risks and make our ideas bigger and better. The focus is always community, but we’re zoning in on bringing our community out to see and party with us.”
Who’s Who: Schindler organizes many sapphic Austin staples such as Deep Flaming-o, Lesbian Wedding, and – until this year – Dyke March. She’s also had art hang in MASS Gallery and photography in Prizer Arts and Letters, among out-of-town art projects like San Fran-based party Power Snatch.
Years in Austin: Actual number unknown, as Schindler’s been here “[off] and on since I was 3 years old.”
The Now: “We are organized, deeply political, and rooted in mutual aid” is how Schindler describes the local queer scene. “Austin’s queers also lack the ego I see in other queer communities, and are not afraid to be ridiculous and clown. So there is a strong and charming duality here. For better or worse, we are well-versed in how to have fun in this hellmouth.”
The Next: What does Schindler suggest to make hellmouth life a little better? “Besides basic human rights?” Yeah, besides that. “A nasty li’l no-frills gay dive bar, for the poor gays” is what Schindler wants. “A place for us to gather that is not centered around a DJ or performance. Just a place to have a cheap drink, with nothing but the shitty beer neon lighting the room. You know, like the straights have.”
On who in Austin her art reflects: “I center Dykes in all of my creative and curatorial projects. Even if it’s a queer thing, Dykes to the front.”
Who’s Who: A local filmmaker, Yap has worked on projects like Netflix’s documentary Who We Become and Austin-area queer nightlife doc I Need Space.
Years in Austin: 8
The Now: Yap sees Austin’s LGBTQ community as “a vibrant tapestry, offering a bit of something for everyone who knows where to look.” In contrast to bigger cities like L.A. and NYC, “[there] is a sense of intimacy and patience” they’ve observed in queer Austin. “The community consists of innovators and creators who contribute their talents and skills to our collective queer existence,” Yap says, “and make Austin a dynamic city of self-discovery and creativity.”
The Next: “To truly improve queer life in Austin,” Yap says of the future, “we need to address fundamental issues that affect the ability to live and thrive here.” They point out that these issues – affordable housing, accessible health care, quality education, and fair wages – mostly hit queer BIPOC and disabled Austinites. “It’s essential for the city to hold space for these communities in meaningful ways,” Yap explains. “This means moving beyond mere acknowledgment or annual events and toward systemic changes that allow these more marginalized communities to participate fully in everyday society. We need to reimagine the structure of events, organizations, and spaces so that care for [BIPOC] and disabled communities are integrated into their foundation instead of becoming an afterthought.”
On being a queer filmmaker in Austin: “I am fortunate to be surrounded by a deeply supportive queer filmmaking community, where knowledge and skills are freely exchanged without any underlying motivations. This network of mutual support and solidarity has been invaluable to my growth and creativity. While I have encountered similar generosity within the broader filmmaking community, there can sometimes be a capitalist mindset that prioritizes commercial success over community building. This can overshadow the collaborative spirit, which is why I’m blessed to be surrounded by filmmakers who value both artistic integrity and communal support.”
Who’s Who: Sanders started Central Texas’ House of Lepore with BabiBoi in San Antonio before bringing it to Austin. She remains the Legendary Mother of House of Lepore, as well as a full-time social worker.
Years in Austin: 5
The Now: “From the pandemic to now, there have been a lot more queer spaces for us to party, and more events and more venues are opening for the queer community overall, no race included,” Sanders says. “But I just wish that it was more inclusive to POC. I don’t know if we will ever have space here, and I’ve been trying.” Fighting to make those spaces is what gives her hope for change. “Oh, the way we’re at these capitols and sitting here during these trials! It’s amazing. We have been fighting. I’m very terrified with this upcoming election, so I’m doing something I’ve never done before. I’m going to register people to vote at my events that are coming up.”
The Next: In Sanders’ view, the steps toward a better Austin for the queer POC community start simply: “Booking us. If you guys are having drag shows, why aren’t there any Black drag queens on the lineup? Invite us to your spaces. You’re having a show with a lineup of several different DJs. Why aren’t any of the DJs POC, or just one? Just to say, 'Hey, you guys are welcome here.’”
On being a Legendary house mother with a day job: “I am a full-time social worker. A lot of people don’t know that. They just know the entertainer. They know Miss Girl6. They know Mother of House of Lepore. But I am a full-time social worker Monday through Friday, and I work for residential housing with individuals who are HIV positive ... I have been in nonprofit [work] for going on eight years. Started off as an HIV tester and made my way up, and now I’m a social worker. Now, at first, no one at my job knew who I was except for one person. Now, people are like, 'Oh my God, you were such and such.’ They’re all looking at my social media. They’re like, 'Are you a celebrity?’”
Who’s Who: A hip-hop sensation, Mama Duke boasts membership in the Recording Academy, founding credits on ATX Social Club, and a live session at KUTX 98.9.
Years in Austin: Since 2013
The Now: When considering the current state of Austin – its pitfalls and positives alike – Mama Duke circles on two particular thoughts. “There’s a part of me that says what have I done to support and advocate for queer and trans communities?” she says. “I think oftentimes we put so much pressure on everyone [else] to create spaces for us. Opportunities for us. Support for us. I’d like to start diving a little deeper. I’d love to see more of my peers lead the way, to show Austin how large we gather in numbers.” But on the other hand, “[Who] cares! I don’t have the luxury of sitting and reflecting on this much,” Mama Duke says. “I’m out being representation and showing other folks how to do it for us, by us.”
The Next: How does Austin move further forward, though? Mama Duke says it’s all in the booking: “[Every] gotdamn lineup should have a queer musician. Every exhibition should give queer art a place to live. Every panel should have a queer person on it. That’s what I think. Having an event? Do you have a queer person involved somehow? We need that perspective.”
On doing the work, whatever it is: “I’ve never been in the front of the marching lines, or been the first to speak up about injustice. I think we all have different roles. I think it’s important to acknowledge that all of us matter no matter what part of the line to injustice you’re standing in. In the front? Great! We need that shit. In the back but brought water and first aid? Great. ... I want folks to know that you don’t have to wait for your city to feed you. Find your people, create whatever change you wish to have and serve folks a plate yourself.”
Copyright © 2024 Austin Chronicle Corporation. All rights reserved.