Gay minorities in Utah can face double discrimination

Story and multimedia by KAREN HOLT BENNION

Watch Jerry Rapier direct a reading of “The Scarlet Letter” for the 2011-2012 season.

Listen to Jennifer Freed talk about Jerry Rapier, director of Plan-B Theatre Co.

Jerry Rapier has made a name for himself in Salt Lake City as an award-winning producer and director.

This is the 11th season of Plan-B Theatre Co. which he founded in 1991 with Cheryl Cluff and Tobin Atkinson. Rapier has been given many honors, including the Salt Lake City’s Mayor’s Artist Award in the Performing Arts in 2008. In 2009, he was given the title of Alternative Pioneer by Salt Lake City Weekly. With many successful plays, a rewarding career and a loyal partner who has been with him for 15 years, some might say that Rapier is living the “American Dream.”

However, despite his current success, he still remembers facing trying times in his past. Jerry Rapier is Asian-American and he is gay. Consequently, he faces a double hardship in Utah.

He was born in Nagasaki, Japan, to an alcoholic mother. When he was 8 years old he was adopted by an American family and went to live with them in New Mexico. Life with his new family was trying at times because his family was “very, very LDS,” he said in an e-mail interview. When he was 23, he mustered all of his courage to come out to the family. Rapier says it was difficult for a few years because they needed time to adjust. “They are great now,” he said.

As a minority who is gay, Rapier is part of a small number of gay minorities in Utah. He says the main reason for the low figure is due to demographics. “This is not a very diverse place, period,” he said in a recent interview. On the other hand, he believes that minorities who are also gay fear coming out because they could be ostracized from their families. “But I will say that I believe this to be changing, slowly, surely,” Rapier said.

“I think it’s almost impossible to live your life now and not know a gay person — and that changes your perspective,” he said in the e-mail.

He remembers how isolated he felt as a teen and is upset by the bullying that is escalating against gay teens today across the country, with some ending in suicides. As a result, Plan B joined 40 other local Outreach Partners to put an end to bullying. The event on Sunday, Nov. 14, was called “Different is Amazing.” The fundraiser included theater, songs and dance. The festivities opened with a short dance by the Ririe-Woodbury Dance Company’s Step Up group, which consists of dancers from Salt Lake City high schools. All proceeds went to the Human Rights Education Center of Utah.

Another advocate for civil rights is Cathy Martinez. She is the director of the Lesbian Gay Bisexual Transgender Resource Center at the University of Utah. She agrees with Rapier about the small number of gay minorities in Utah. While she acknowledges that Utah is predominantly white, she says gay minorities are trapped in a stigma of being “a minority within a minority.” They are virtually forced to live in two communities.

Her experience with international students at the U has led her to realize some Asian families do not embrace or encourage members who have different sexual identities. “We need to talk about race too when we talk of sexual discrimination,” Martinez says. She recounts helping a  gay couple, who were international students studying at the U from China and Korea. When the Korean student’s family found out he was gay, they immediately st0pped paying for his schooling. Without money to continue his studies,  he was forced to return home.

“Not all cultures look down on homosexuality,” Martinez says. Thailand is the Asian hub for sexual reassignment surgery. Moreover, before missionaries arrived in early America many Native American tribes respected gay and transsexual members. They believed them to be two spirited.

Plan B’s latest production, “She Was My Brother,” which was directed by Rapier, is about a government ethnographer who is sent to study the Zuni Tribe of the Southwest in the late 1800s. The government official becomes attracted  to a male transgender tribal member. The tribal member is revered by the Zunis as very wise. Ironically, the Native American calls people in the “white society” uncivilized because of their intolerance to its citizens who fall outside of what society deems normal.

Martinez feels that education about race and sexuality and ability level (blind, deaf and disabled) must filter down to more high schools, junior highs and communities. She is working hard to educate people at the college level.

Brandi Balken, executive director of Equality Utah, says her office is working on educating the public as well. She says that being a gay minority is enduring “double marginalization.”

“There is not state for federal protection in housing and employment based on sexual orientation or gender identity,” Balken says.

Protection is available for those based on race, age and gender under the Civil Rights Act. Moreover, the Americans with Disabilities Act helps those with different levels of ability. However, people at Equality Utah are continually working with local legislators to pass state and federal laws to help all citizens of Utah gain the same rights to fair housing and employment.

Gay and transgendered citizens in seven Utah cities and counties have some protection regarding employment and housing rights.  They include: Salt Lake City, Salt Lake County, Park City, Summit County, Logan, Taylorsville and West Valley City.

With the help of Jerry Rapier, Cathy Martinez and Brandi Balken, the future could look brighter for people of all races and gender identities who are in need of support.

Growing old when gay

by Gillian King

  • See a slide show of resources older people within the GLBT community can go to.

The process of growing older can prove to be difficult for many people, especially when it comes to navigating government benefits and retirement. However, for individuals such as Pamela Mayne the process can prove to be especially nerve-racking. “It has been a harrowing experience to get what we are entitled to,” Mayne said.

Mayne, 64, and her domestic partner, Ann, have had to put a lot of hard work and energy into ensuring their benefits are set up the way they need them to be. Hard work that legally married couples generally don’t have to worry about. Their problems are rooted in the fact that they are a lesbian couple, and despite being together for the last 37 years many organizations don’t recognize their relationship.

The simple act of getting on each other’s insurance proved to be trying for the couple. After Mayne’s partner retired, Mayne wanted to make sure the primary and secondary coverage for their health insurance was correct. “When I called Medicare, no one knew what to do because they didn’t recognize domestic partners,” Mayne said.

Medicare isn’t the only place where the two have run into trouble. When Mayne retired, she had to take her retirement in one lump sum instead of monthly payments. “It would have been nice to have monthly payments,” Mayne said, “but if something were to happen and I died, the benefits would die with me. I couldn’t leave it to Ann like I could if we were a married couple.”

These types of experiences aren’t unique to this couple. According to Jo Merrill, a doctoral student in counseling psychology and a teacher in the Gender Studies program at the University of Utah, couples across the nation are having similar experiences. Merrill did a qualitative study of aging experiences of older lesbian couples and found some noticeable trends.

“Some of the unique concerns for LGBT (lesbian, gay, bisexual, transsexual) couples are legal invisibility, right of inheritance and social security benefits,” Merrill said. She added these problems mostly stem from domestic partnerships not being legally recognized, and marriage not being available for these individuals. Without some sort of legal or familial bond, Merrill says many of these couples feel their benefits are never really secured, no matter how much money they pay to make sure they are.

Trying to secure benefits is a familiar task for Mayne. She and her partner set up living wills so that if anything were to happen to either of them their money and property would go where they want it. Since the state of Utah doesn’t recognize domestic partnerships, the process of drawing up the documents was much more expensive and time consuming. When comparing the process of her setting up a living will as opposed to her married, heterosexual daughter Mayne said, “It cost three times as much for us because there is no legal relationship so there are a lot more papers to sign.”

The process of setting up things like insurance and living wills can be difficult for LGBT seniors to navigate, but luckily they are not alone. The Utah Pride Center holds monthly events for SAGE Utah to help individuals navigate the unfamiliar territory of aging within the gay community. According to Jennifer Nuttall, Director of Adult Programs at the Utah Pride Center, SAGE (services and advocacy for gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender elders) offers social avenues, workshops and educational opportunities that seniors in the LGBT community would otherwise not have. They work closely with Salt Lake County Aging Services and address issues that are unique to LGBT seniors.

More than anything Nuttall says that through SAGE individuals can receive the support they are in need of. “It is important to have people that are supportive and affirming of who you are,” Nuttall said. She mentioned that other groups, such as grief groups, aren’t always supportive to people living LGBT lifestyles. Individuals feel like they need to hide information about themselves and their sexuality, which isn’t helpful during trying times, such as attempting to cope with the death of a partner. At SAGE events these individuals don’t need to hide who they are, they can make connections and get the support they need.

The Utah Pride Center works not only to provide support for individuals, but also to give them access to workshops where they can learn things such as how to best organize their legal documents. Mayne knows firsthand how difficult this can be, as she has been running into problems as long as she has been with Ann. Her partner already had five children and was pregnant when they got together, and they raised the children together. While Mayne considers all of her partner’s children as her own, the government does not. One year when filing taxes it made more sense for Mayne to claim the children as dependents than for her partner to. They did the research to make sure they could legally do it, and filled out all of the needed forms. “Then we got audited,” Mayne said. She took in the IRS brochure that stated they could legally file their taxes this way. “They let us do it, but made it clear that we shouldn’t try to again,” she said.

Because of these kind of difficulties, some couples take extreme measures to get legal custody of children. “Utah doesn’t allow (same sex) couples to adopt, so often couples will move out of state for a couple years to get residency in another state where adoptions are allowed,” Merrill said. She said then the couples could move back and have the adoption upheld by the state of Utah. This option is not a convenient one for many couples. Couples must have the necessary funds to be able to pick up and move to another state for a couple years, something that many don’t have at their disposal.

Moving out of the state to adopt children wasn’t the only measure Merrill discovered people were taking to ensure legal family bonds. Some elderly couples take advantage of a loophole in the system and one will adopt the other. “Two of the couples I spoke with were in the process of adoption,” Merrill said. She said if one partner could prove that the other was dependent on him, or her, for care then the dependent partner could be legally adopted. “It shows the subversive moves couples have to make out of necessity,” Merrill said. She spoke to one couple that had recently completed the adoption process. The couple told her they finally felt their partnership couldn’t be dissolved because they had been given legal status as a family.

Legal status as a family would make life a lot easier for Mayne and her partner. “We don’t even qualify for a family pass at the recreation center in Bountiful,” Mayne said. When they tried to purchase one they were turned down.

Not getting passes to the local recreation center may be inconvenient, but not compared to future expenses. “When setting up our finances, we decided to get long-term care insurance,” Mayne said. She has researched prices at assisted living facilities and found results that were unfavorable to her situation. She said for the first person to enter a facility it would cost $2,600 a month, and then for the spouse it would be $600. Since her and her partner aren’t legally spouses, they would have to pay $2,600 each, something she would have a much more difficult time affording, which is what prompted her to get an insurance plan to cover the expenses.

Making sure expenses will be covered and paperwork is set up the way it should be is something that many LGBT couples believe can’t be put off until retirement age. Nyhra Snyder, 22, and Ashley Cordova, 23, have already begun to get their affairs in order. They have both made each other the beneficiaries of their life insurance policies in the event that anything may happen. They too have been faced with discrimination though. “When I was filling out my life insurance policy at work I made Ashley the beneficiary and put her down as my life partner, but the HR manager changed it to ‘friend’ even though there was a life partner option on the form,” Snyder said. She recognizes that her generation has less discrimination than previous ones though. “I’m just grateful for what people have done before us,” she said.

Even with the inconveniences and discrimination, Merrill says many elderly LGBT couples say things are better than they used to be. Whether it is from changes in society or changes due to age it is difficult to tell. “Most participants felt more accepted as they got older,” Merrill said. She noted this might be a result of the heterosexual community desexualizing older people.

Mayne agrees that in most cases people are more accepting. She also said as she ages she doesn’t let things bother her as much, and she has become less hostile toward unfriendly comments. “We kind of ignore it,” Mayne said, “plus our hearing is getting worse.”

Equality Utah: Facing bias takes no toll on this organization’s open mind, open heart

by VANESSA NELSON

Meet Mike Thompson, the executive director of Equality Utah. Originally from Tulsa, Okla., Thompson is no stranger to living in the heart of a religious community. He grew up as a Baptist. But when asked about his job fighting for lesbian, gay, gisexual and transgender rights in Salt Lake City, Thompson says, “It’s amazing.”

He graduated from the University of Oklahoma with a double major in business and communication then went to work for the oil industry. But it didn’t spark a fire in him. He decided to move to London, England, where he began working with special-needs kids. This is where he found his love for nonprofit work.

Equality Utah — originally called Unity Utah — was founded in 2001. Thompson began working for the organization in the spring of 2004 after a stint at a nonprofit in Denver, Colo. 

Thompson was hired to work on the “No on 3” campaign and raise money for the campaign against the amendment. Although it passed, Equality Utah gained recognition for political pull in the community. 

Equality Utah has been very involved in getting hate-crimes bills passed in the legislature. In 2005, the organization endorsed Taylorsville Mayor Russ Wall and made advances with sexual orientation rights. 

In 2006, Equality Utah, with the help of Ralph Becker, got house bill 148 vetoed. It would have affected partners from getting employment benefits. “Issues of marriage shouldn’t impact issues of employment,” Thompson said.

This year Equality Utah interviewed 29 mayoral candidates before deciding to endorse Ralph Becker. Although Equality Utah didn’t endorse Dave Buhler, they have worked together on many issues regarding gay rights.

The biggest goal for Equality Utah is to secure rights and protections for LGBT couples and families. Thompson doesn’t believe in shutting people out, even if they don’t support his community or organization. He believes in creating a dialogue, having conversations and developing relationships between everyone, especially the people who don’t understand Equality Utah and the LGBT community’s views or opinions. In creating this dialogue people start seeing them as individuals, rather than as stereotypes.

“I’m a lot of other things besides my sexual orientation,” Thompson said.

Thompson loves his job because he can influence and change his part of this world. Although Equality Utah does not take an activist approach in demanding changes, the organization is drawing attention and gaining strength. One way it gains support is linking social events to the work that organizers and volunteers do. Some events have been held at popular local restaurants or bars, making it a more enjoyable experience for everyone participating.  

In the coming months Equality Utah will be fighting to get the bullying bill brought back. It would protect middle school and high school kids who are bullied for their sexual orientation.

 

Gallery creates a space for diversity

by STEPHANIE FERRER-CARTER

John F. Kennedy, the 35th president of the United States of America, stated, “If art is to nourish the roots of our culture, society must set the artist free to follow his vision wherever it takes him.”

During this year’s Pride at the U, artists of all sexual preferences found a venue for their visions.

“Art is a big part of queer culture,” said Bonnie Owens, 21, a senior at the University of Utah and an intern at the LGBT Resource Center on campus. “It’s a big part of any culture, so I thought it was important that it was included.”

The theme of the 2007 Pride Week held Oct. 15-20 was “Culture with a Q.” Owens was inspired by the theme, and chose to revamp the idea of an art gallery as part of Pride Week.

“In the past it’s never been successful, but I really wanted it to run well this year,” Owens said.

The art show was originally titled “Beautifully Obscene,” but was renamed “The Good Stuff” after some concern over what would be displayed in the gallery located in the U’s student lounge.

“The best thing about the gallery is that it crosses so many different boundaries,” Owens said. “We’ve got staff, faculty, alumni, community members and students all in here.”

Though it was labeled a LGBTQ art gallery, Owens said anyone could submit their art. Artists did not have to describe the subject matter, just the dimensions of their work.

“Something like this is so odd,” Owens said. “It’s so queer to have a gallery designed for queer students and faculty. So it’s very, very liberating for an artist that’s having a hard time finding their niche. It’s a good place to be.”

A variety of art was displayed in the gallery, including photography, drawings, oil, water color, mixed media and pottery.

While some works were more subdued, the gallery did feature a series of nudes painted by a former alumna who lives in Santa Quin County. Owens said the woman found out about the gallery through a culture article in the Salt Lake Tribune and was eager to show her work, not only because the county did not have a gallery that would display the nudes, but also because two of the woman’s children are gay.

The gallery became a canvas of emotion and statement for some.

Orbin Rockford, 27, submitted five pieces from a series of 25 Sharpie and acrylic paint drawings to the gallery. The dark images portrayed, both in color and tone, stood out starkly from their clean, white backgrounds.

The inspiration came from an emotional break-up that happened while Rockford was in college at a Boston art school.

“I was in a relationship that was totally messed up,” Rockford said. “It was my first real relationship with a guy.”

Drawing, Rockford said, is a form of therapy, what he calls “instinct art.”

“It’s a great outlet,” he said. “It’s been about coming to terms with myself.” 

But Rockford said he does not want his artwork to be defined only by his sexuality.

“It’s very much a part of my work, some pieces more than others,” he said.

Aside from putting the show together, Owens also submitted her own series of black and white photographs. Each one featured student leaders and activists from the U’s LGBTQ groups.

“They [Owens’ photographs] were designed to be shown, so they’re a little more apparent,” she said. “They’re something that you can look at them and say, why is this queer, what is going on here.”

The pieces were on display for the week, and the gallery full of artwork was proof of a goal accomplished, according to Owens.

“Pretty much everyone from different identities and cultures submitted something, which is something the resource center has had a hard time with in the past,” Owens said. “A lot of events this year cater to people who are often forgotten in programming like this, so people of color, transgender individuals, women, straight allies especially. So it’s great to see some of their work in this.”

LGBT Resource Center rich reserve of support

by ERIN FLINDERS

Located on the skeletal fourth floor at the University of Utah’s Union Building, the Lesbian Gay Bisexual Transgender Resource Center is a room squeezed tight with computers, couches and funky lights. A library fills one wall. Information pamphlets, invitations and offers cover every bit of table space.

Bonnie Owens, a senior majoring in gender studies, has been an intern at the Resource Center for three years. She said the space used to be a fraction of what it is now, “literally, a closet.” The Center was formally dedicated in April 2002, but has just recently been moved to the upper, still unfinished, fourth floor of the Union.

Now, one formal office sits in the midst of many makeshift ones. Cathy Martinez is director of the Center and resident of that office. A U alumna, she earned her undergraduate and graduate degrees in social work.

After obtaining her master’s degree, Martinez went into private practice and began working with the LGBTQ population as a licensed clinical social worker in Salt Lake City. Her education and 10 years of experience in the field of social work made Martinez a top candidate when the director position at the Resource Center opened in May 2007.

She said she feels “honored to be part of the center,” and part of the community working for equality. David Daniels and Jeremy Yamashiro, both interns who agreed to the interview, nod their heads in agreement. Everyone here is involved with other LGBTQ educational, activist and support groups as well, and takes these associations earnestly.

Yamashiro, for example, is a member of the Queer Student Union (QSU) and Queer Students of Color (QSoC), both university student groups. QSoC was founded two years ago to educate people of color about queer issues and queer people about the “colored experience.”

In addition, Yamashiro said QSoC functions as a support group, “address[ing] some of the issues that queer people who come from ethnic minorities are having to deal with that might be different from mainstream gay issues.”

Bonnie Owens is former co-president of the Lesbian and Gay Student Union. She has also spent a lot of her time at the U promoting and addressing LGBTQ issues.

Her latest effort was October’s (2007) Pride Week celebration titled “Culture with a Q.” Owens contacted Andrew Jolivette, assistant professor of American Indian studies and a teacher in the Ethnic Studies Program at San Francisco State University. He agreed to speak on LGBTQ issues at two larger events, the “Gay-la” fund-raising dinner and silent auction, and was the week’s keynote speaker.

The week was full of smaller events coordinated by Owens and hosted by the Resource Center. A panel of politicians and representatives gathered at the Hinckley Institute of Politics to discuss the passage of Amendment 3. The Pooch Pride Dog Parade and Queerprov, an improvisational show, also were added to this year’s calendar of events.

Some events were very popular, while others had to be cancelled due to low attendance. “This [was] different from any other Pride Week we’ve ever done,” Owens said. In the past we’ve focused on only big events. This year we saturated the week with events, and [overall] it is the most successful year we’ve had.”

The Resource Center’s Web site is another way people can obtain information about LGBTQ issues. Close to 160 community, education, political and need-based links are “the result of a five-year collaboration,” Owens said.

The Queer Peers program is available electronically through the Resource Center’s Web site as well. Queer Peers allow students to send an e-mail to staff at the Center or make confidential comments. This anonymity encourages communication from students who would have been silent otherwise. Martinez said the discussions range from “where can I find LGBTQ resources in Utah?” to “I’ve been kicked out of my home, where can I go?”

Discrimination at home and the workplace is an all-too-common reality. To combat this, the Resource Center employs a trained facilitator who travels to businesses to educate employees about LGBTQ issues and provides Safe Zone trainings.

A group of seven or more people, or any staff member of a company with an interested group of seven or more can call the Resource Center and request one of the three-hour training sessions. 

By talking “about queer history, terminology, questions about who can say what,” and doing “some interactive activities about discovering your own personal biases, community biases and things like that,” Owens and Martinez hope to foster more understanding, awareness and mobilize more straight allies.

The U has a healthy track record as an LGBTQ ally. According to an August 2006 press release, The Advocate College Guide for LGBT Students rated the school as one the 100 best campuses for lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender students. The rating reflects the availability of resources and the campus’ ability to create a positive living and learning environment for LGBT students.

David Daniels, one of the Center’s three interns, moved to Utah after living in New Jersey and New York. He said he doesn’t remember LGBT issues being covered by the media a lot in those cities. He said there are fewer media outlets in Utah, but he has seen more coverage since moving to Salt Lake.

Daniels points to publications like The Pillar and QSaltLake, alternative media that, he said, “are specifically for the queer community.” He said he reads City Weekly because they “are inclusive of everyone.” Daniels said it is good when these publications “sometimes reach out of your home base” and “start a conversation.”

Media that reach a larger audience are important to the LGBT community. Good media coverage of issues affecting the population is rare and stories are not always balanced. The Salt Lake Tribune is a mainstream newspaper that recently covered Pride Week events.

In a story headlined “RSVP: Your guide to Utah’s social scene and the people who make a difference,” the paper featured a photograph of the keynote speaker Jolivette standing with Martinez at the “Gay-la dinner.” Any publicity is good, but Jolivette was misidentified in the photo caption.

Despite these occasional mistakes, LGBTQ Utahns have had some good coverage. But, Martinez said, “there’s the other side where [the media] will tend to depict certain people or certain organizations in a bad light.”

In light of these and other challenges, the Lesbian Gay Bisexual Transgender Resource Center will continue to communicate with people and educate. They will continue to provide a safe and inclusive environment for students on the University of Utah campus.

Vanderhooft pursues passion for writing through QSaltLake

by YEVGENIYA KOPELEVA

While writing her honors thesis in the English department at the University of Utah, JoSelle Vanderhooft discovered the Salt Lake Metro and her passion for journalism.

Her love for writing began with being the newspaper editor for the Hillcrest High School newspaper in Salt Lake City and a staff writer for Salt Lake Community College’s Horizon. After dedicating long hours to both newspapers, she decided to take a year off journalism and pursue her other passion: theater and playwriting.

It was seeing the Salt Lake Metro flier in the English department during her senior year in college that made her realize she wanted to “get back into journalism.” Vanderhooft graduated from the U with a bachelor of arts in English and theater studies in May 2004.

She then began as a freelance writer for Salt Lake Metro because it was the only paying job she could get after graduating. “After awhile, I just got into the routine of it, realized I not only liked it, but really, really liked it, and stayed,” said Vanderhooft, 27.

Salt Lake Metro, a newspaper for the lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender population that began in May 2004, changed its name to QSaltLake in March 2006 in order to incorporate “queer” into the title as part of the new staff’s vision of being inclusive. QSaltLake distributes 9,000 copies a month along the Wasatch Front as well as in selected cities in Nevada, Wyoming and Idaho. The biweekly newspaper has grown from 20 pages to 40 pages since the beginning of 2007. Vanderhooft became the assistant editor of QSaltLake in 2007.

The June 2007 Pride issue featured 64 pages filled with articles, advertisements, features, a schedule of the three-day event, a map of the festival grounds and the parade route, a variety of Pride-related news and arts and entertainment stories. “Lots of people want to advertise in the Pride issue because it’s the issue that everyone picks up and advertising in it gives them a lot of attention,” Vanderhooft said.

QSaltLake features news of interest to the LGBT community and keeps the population informed of upcoming events. “It’s intentional that the newspaper is more news than arts,” Vanderhooft said. “Since we try to cover as much as we do in a two-week cycle, most of the time the hard news stories just seem to outnumber the arts stories,” she said about striving to keep a balance between news, arts and opinion.

When choosing content for news and features, Vanderhooft looks for people doing things and relevant news about issues that may affect the community. “It’s about going to bars and finding those face-to-face conversations or knowing that people talk and stories get back to you,” Vanderhooft said. “Columnists are sometimes well-known or are interesting people who have cool ideas. And word of mouth is how we find people to write for the newspaper.”

Out of all the sections in QSaltLake, Vanderhooft enjoys writing the Gay Geek column the most because it blends two sides of her personality. “We are geeks, we like our toys, gadgets and ‘Star Wars,'” said Vanderhooft about the unique column she created in January 2007. She uses the column to publish fantasy stories and poems.

QSaltLake’s success is a result of societal values and the changing views of what being gay means in the 21st century. Vanderhooft believes the importance of LGBT issues in today’s world is the reason people are more respectful and accepting of the LGBT community.

Her goal is for QSaltLake to keep growing, being more diverse and inclusive, reaching out and “not closing themselves within the community.” Vanderhooft hopes to add more content relevant to transgender and bisexuals because she feels “there needs to be more coverage of these individuals who are ignored a lot of the time.”

She strives to seek columnists who are willing to cover topics pertaining to the LGBT community. “Don’t assume a writer is gay,” Vanderhooft said about reading LGBT newspapers. She believes anyone can write for a gay newspaper as long as they are educated and do their homework.

When interviewing members of the LGBT population, she advises future reporters to let people know you are comfortable with their sexual orientation, to be compassionate, read reactions and body language, to try to do the best you can and don’t look at it as us versus them. “It’s about tone,” Vanderhooft said.

Generations divide the semantics of queer

Some see it as hate while the youth find empowerment

by CLAYTON NORLEN

The power of words is something a dictionary can’t define; people give power to words and decide their meaning. “Queer” is a word of hate and empowerment, and the meaning of queer changes with context and intent.

Queer began as an adjective that meant strange, different, weird, irregular or odd. In the 1960s it became a hateful word that was used against members of the gay community. In 1969, gay, bisexual and transgender people in New York City rioted against police brutality in the Stonewall Rebellion. Queer took on a new meaning then, when it was adopted word was now used as a derogatory stereotype against the lifestyles of gay or transgender people.

“There are a lot of people today who are still offended to be called queer, but there are others who will say, ‘Thank you very much,'” said Melvin Nimer, who is the president of the Utah chapter of the Log Cabin Republicans and is openly gay. “It’s all in how the word is used. If it is used as a put-down, as a slur, then it is hate speech. But often enough I hear it used as a term of empowerment by the youth.”

In the 1890s, American scientists created the term “homosexual” to describe men who were attracted to other men. Gay men were first described as inverts, and science suggested that the reason why men were attracted to other men was because gay men had a “woman inside them,” said Bonnie Owens, a senior majoring in gender studies at the University of Utah and an intern for the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender Resource Center on campus. Shortly after homosexuality was defined, the term “heterosexual” was created to define what 19th-century society perceived as a normal sexual attraction. After homosexuality was defined as the act of men having sex with men, an identity began to be imposed on men that labeled them as “others,” and a sub-culture began to take shape soon after.

With large numbers of people moving into the cities during the Industrial Revolution, children became less useful to families who no longer needed their children’s free help to maintain a farm. Women postponed marriage and were entered the work force. As intercourse became less about reproduction and more about pleasure in large cities, gay bars, clubs and bathhouses sprang up across the country to accommodate a growing gay-male subculture, Owens said.

During World War II, a mass movement of young men overseas into single-sex, volatile environments where they were taught to depend on and care for one another instead of competing. New relationships were presented for men who had never heard the term homosexual before, and some began to explore them. Back home, women were encouraged to work and taught to be economic and social equals with men. This allowed women to embrace they idea of being independent from their male counterparts. These events allowed people who were already questioning their personal identities and the structure of their relationships to further explore their sexuality.

“In the 1930s and 1940s, we saw homosexuality being used as an empowerment term, so people were identifying as a homosexual,” Owens said. “Then in the 1960s we [saw] the term gay being used and replacing homosexual. Then Stonewall happened and sparked the gay rights movement that led to the queer movement we have today.”

After Stonewall, the gay rights movement grew and took shape throughout the 1970s and 1980s, allowing people to openly identify with any sexual orientation and explore relationships that society still scrutinized as deviant or unnatural. The reclamation of the word queer began in 1990 with the publication of Judith Butler’s “Gender Trouble,” a book that explored and explained the numerous sexual and gender identifications that people were using to define themselves.

Now, in 2007, many teens and LGBT students on college campuses are identifying as queer-opting not to base their identity solely on their sexual orientation, but instead choosing to identify with the community included under the term queer. In academia, queer and gender studies courses have made queer identity and philosophy somewhat mainstream on campus, but these theories of inclusiveness haven’t become prominent among everyone in LGBT communities.

“Queer is a very liberating identity to me,” Owens said. “Queer is something that connects me to, and makes me part of, a community. The reason I identify as queer is because it encompasses my gender identity and my sexual orientation.”

Who is queer and who may identify as queer are perspectives that change depending on who is asked. To Owens, queer includes lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, questioning and intersex peoples and their allies. Everyone is queer in an academic sense, because no one is truly normal or average; everyone has differences that make people queer. Sex beyond the purpose of reproduction is queer, Owens said.

The modern queer movement is only 17 years old, but because the new face of the gay movement is considerably young, there is an apparent generational disconnect between the youth and established LGBT communities across the nation. For many older LGBT individuals, their association with queer remains derogatory because it was a term that was used to divide and separate them from the norm on the playground and in the work place.

“I just don’t like the word queer,” said Rep. Jackie Biskupski, D-Utah, who is openly lesbian. “I can’t explain it, but part of it could be the history behind it. The word and use of the word queer, to me, makes it sound like you are goofy, that something isn’t quite right about you.”

Biskupski chooses not to use or identify as queer, but she said she knows people who do and use the term positively. She compared the LGBTQ youth’s struggle to reclaim queer to the black communities’ reclamation of “nigger,” saying that the same controversy applies. Many of the questions that arise out of these situations are, who can use the word? Who is part of the community? Whom is it empowering and whom is it degrading?

Semantics aside, Biskupski sees a growing number of youth identifying as queer instead of strictly gay or lesbian.

“I like queer because it is more than an identity — it is an ideology,” said Jose Rodriguez, and a junior majoring in social justice and policy at the U. “Anybody can be queer, and I like that you can queer anything-politics, society or culture, anything. Queer identity tries to reclaim spaces where LGBTQ people have been marginalized, so they can become safe again.”

The queer movement pulls away from identity-based politics and into coalition building through merging the LGBTQQIA community under one distinct, open title. Queer is a way for these diverse and separate communities to come together and stand behind one issue-human rights-while still being capable of supporting one another through synergy, Rodriguez said.

For these reasons of inclusion, Rodriguez doesn’t identify as queer because he sees it as a movement that is primarily white and devoid of racial and socio-economic consideration. Although Rodriguez recognizes many queer theorists are trying to overcome the exclusionary injustice toward communities of color, he instead chooses to identify as Xueer so his race, gender identity, sexual orientation and background can all be factors in defining him.

“As more and more identities start to get their own voices and as we move forward, we have to make that jump towards being inclusive-we have to open up ourselves,” Owens said. “We are so caught up on words and terms, and what we can say, but the point is that even if we didn’t identify under a single word, we’re always going to have to identify under the single term of ‘other.'”

The goal with the queer movement and identity is to make it so large that it will erase itself, Owens said. Her goal is to make every identity have the same value, so people don’t have to rally toward a certain goal such as equal rights. They could just assume that legislation would encompass everyone.

“I identify as a normal person. I’m gay, but that is normal to me, and I don’t look at myself in any other way,” Nimer said. “To accept the queer movement we have to realize we’re all different, and in a sense we are all queer. Everyone should be included in the queer community, but right now [queer] is just used to describe the gay and lesbian communities.”

‘Goodtime’ for a good cause

by ERIC WATSON

Unlike many bowling leagues that attract members by offering big prize money, Goodtime Bowling League in Salt Lake City offers members a chance to bowl each week for a charitable cause.

Dean White, owner of Bonwood Bowl in South Salt Lake, said the Goodtime league has been making donations to various charities since they began bowling at his establishment in 1990.

“They’re a very charitable bunch,” White said.  “We get thank you notes all the time from places they donate to.”

Goodtime donates roughly $1,500 spread out over approximately six different charities each year, but as membership numbers continue growing, donations are becoming more plentiful.

Goodtime has grown from 14 to 24 teams since last year alone, according to league president Nate Christensen.  “My goal from last year to this year was to build the league,” Christensen said.  “We added 10 teams.  It was phenomenal.”

The league is up to 96 bowlers, which Christensen said directly connects to the $1,700 in donations so far this year.

Goodtime has donated to the Ronald McDonald House, Huntsman Cancer Institute, Utah AIDS Foundation and the Utah Pride Center this year.  Also, a donation was made to the family of a Bonwood Bowl employee who died in a traffic accident in 2007.

Some people assume that, since Goodtime is a lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender bowling league, donations are strictly made toward LGBT organizations, but Christensen said that is not the case.

“Every bowler has a vote for which charities they would like to donate to each year,” Christensen said.  “The majority of our charities are not LGBT affiliates.”

The majority of the donations are collected from membership fees and various buy-in tournaments that Goodtime organizes.  The types of tournaments vary from week to week, but the charity theme remains the same. 

One example of a tournament called “strike it rich” gives bowlers a chance to win some money while still making a contribution.  The amount of winnings change each week depending on how many players buy-in, and the winner receives half the pot while the other half goes towards charity.

“If the pot is $100,” Christensen said, “$50 goes to charity.  A few weeks ago the pot was $180.”

Christensen explained that Goodtime does not simply “cut a check to each charity and say ‘see ya next year.’”  Goodtime contacts each charity individually to explain who they are and what they are doing in the community.

“I explain that we are a lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender bowling league that is doing something good in our community,” Christensen said.  “We are individuals, and we do care.”

Goodtime has been a part of the International Gay Bowling Organization since the IGBO was founded in 1980.  Back then, Goodtime bowled at the University of Utah.

IGBO hosts prize tournaments for LGBT leagues all across the nation. Salt Lake Goodtime has hosted two IGBO tournaments, but Christensen said it did not turn out as well as he had hoped.

“[IGBO] wasn’t as successful as it could’ve been,” Christensen said.  “I have gone [to an IGBO tourney] in Orange County and it was an amazing turnout.”

In order to be a part of IGBO, Goodtime pays the organization $150 per year, giving Goodtime members the option to attend any IGBO tournaments nationwide.  Dallas, Texas will host the next national IGBO tournament this year, according to Christensen.

To ensure Goodtime remains successful each year, Christensen explained that the league tries to create a fun atmosphere for the bowlers while keeping charity at the forefront of the league’s agenda.

Recognizing Goodtime’s charitable donations, White recently wrote a letter to the Goodtime league expressing the importance of what they do for the community each and every bowling season.

“They get very little publicity,” White said, “but they’re not after publicity, and they’re never pretentious about their donations.”  He continued to say that not many people realize how much Goodtime is contributing to the community every year. 

White said that Goodtime, like many bowling leagues at Bonwood, hold a “turkey shoot” during Thanksgiving, where each team has a chance to win a turkey, “but instead of keeping their turkeys, 10 individuals from [Goodtime] donated to the food bank,” he said. 

 “I do their in-house banking,” White said, “so I know what they do with their prize money.  They keep very little for themselves.  They buy trophies once a year, and that’s about it.”

According to league member and former Goodtime secretary Chad Hall, 33, the league was at its largest during the 1995 to 1996 season, with 36 registered teams.

“Scheduling 36 teams for one night was tough,” Hall said.  “Twenty-four teams is probably our limit.”

Christensen said the league still has room to grow, but admitted adding too many teams might cause problems.  “I would feel comfortable having 28 teams,” Christensen said.  “As president, I would like to see the league stay within two-thirds of the lanes at Bonwood.”

Keeping a few extra lanes open gives the public an opportunity to experience what the league is all about, Christiansen said, and having too many teams could make the league feel impersonal.

Goodtime is open to anyone to join.  The league currently has members of all ages and sexual orientations.

Although Goodtime bowlers come and go, Christensen said he has bowlers that have been with the league over 10 years.  He estimates that 60 percent of the league changes from year to year, but he and former president Scott Mallar have added stability to a once shaky bowling league.

“We’ve gone through some growing pains,” Christensen said.  “[Mallar] did a great job of building up consistency within the league.  My goal is to keep it consistent and fun.”

QSaltLake fills a niche in Salt Lake City

Story and photo by JENNIFER MORGAN

JoSelle Vanderhooft, 27, has been the assistant editor of QSaltLake since January 2007, but she began as a freelance writer for the biweekly gay and lesbian newspaper. “I discovered [freelance writing] because I was in the English department trying to get help reformatting my thesis. They had a signup and that’s how I got started as a freelancer.” Just like Vanderhooft, QSaltLake had a different beginning.

QSaltLake was originally titled Salt Lake Metro in 2004, but the name changed in 2006 after editor Michael Aaron and his business partner went separate ways. From its humble beginnings with 20 pages, it now averages 34 to 40, and expands to 60 pages for the annual Utah Pride Festival in June. QSaltLake can also boast that it’s the third largest alternative paper in the state (after City Weekly and In magazine).

Even though Vanderhooft is keenly aware of the lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT) community, she will not call it that “I hate to use that term. We’re more of a population,” she said. Some of her current responsibilities include writing news briefs, selling ads and keeping columnists on track for deadline. She’s also familiar with reader feedback, which is why she says QSaltLake “ultimately jettisoned it [LGBT term] because it wasn’t helpful.”

Even though its content is mostly news and columns right now, QSaltLake didn’t want to have a lot of columns at first because that’s what The Pillar, the other alternative newspaper in Utah, was known for. “We wanted to be distinctive,” Vanderhooft said. Eventually, the staff decided it was time to add more content. Many forms of arts and entertainment such as theater, dance, and opera were highlighted in the fall arts issue.joselle-vanderhooft

Although 9,000 copies a month are distributed at more than 200 locations throughout the Wasatch Front and Utah, some people still have difficulty finding QSaltLake. But, like many newspapers and magazines, QSaltLake can be found online. 

Annually, QSaltLake publishes an issue addressing methamphetamine use among gays and bisexual men. Vanderhooft said that crystal meth is dangerous because when you’re high on it you’re more careless and prone to have unsafe sex. “It leads to AIDS being spread among gay men,” she said.

QSaltLake donates free space to Utah Tweaker, a local chapter of tweaker.org, which discusses meth use by gays and bisexual men without condoning or condemning. The meth issue helps fulfill the mission of QSaltLake, which is to cover news for the LGBT community that isn’t covered in mainstream media.

QSaltLake also advertises upcoming events. October is Gay and Lesbian history month, which is when the University of Utah holds its annual Pride Week on campus. The Queer Student Union and the LGBT Resource Center sponsor the weeklong observance. Events include an art display, lectures, potluck, drag dash, dog parade, silent auction and more.

While QSaltLake isn’t officially involved with the University of Utah or its Pride Week, it sponsors other events and groups including: Downtown Farmer’s Market, Winterfest, the Dark Arts Festival and Plan B Theatre Company.

Plan B has shown several plays about issues facing the LGBT community. In the spring of 2007 “Facing East” had its off-Broadway debut at Plan B. The play is about a Mormon couple who are still reeling from the suicide of their gay son when they meet their son’s partner at the cemetery for the first time.

Vanderhooft feels that media coverage of the LGBT community is a “mixed bag.” She feels locals did a good job when FOX affiliate Channel 13 covered the Utah Pride Festival, but failed when KSL reported on gay men “cruising” in Memory Grove.

As the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association (NLGJA) representative for the state of Utah, Vanderhooft is able to get help when the media show pieces that are inaccurate or just plain wrong. Vanderhooft described a story Channel 5 did about gay men meeting for sex in Memory Grove. “They didn’t talk with anyone in the gay community, made a lot of assumptions. Horrible coverage,” she said. “If I’d known about NLGJA at that point I would have called their rapid response [team].”

In a perfect world, Vanderhooft would like to see coverage that is so diverse that there is, “A day when we won’t need to say LGBT media.” In the meantime, she hopes to see more articles about transgender and bisexual persons in QSaltLake because she wants the paper to keep growing and to be even more diverse. She said, “It’s about inclusivity to me.”

Bill defines human rights: equality vs. morality

by YEVGENIYA KOPELEVA

When Equality Utah, a nonprofit political organization in Salt Lake City that advocates for the LGBT community, asked Rep. Christine Johnson, D-Salt Lake City, to take on the employment non-discrimination bill protecting sexual orientation and gender identity, she agreed. Then she hung up the phone and began to cry.

“It’s going to be difficult to pass this law, but it’s the beginning of a conversation and a learning curve to educate others,” Johnson said.

An event sponsored by the Department of Communication and the University of Utah’s Debate Team was designed to do just that. On Nov. 15, 2007, politicians, students, faculty and staff gathered in the Reed Auditorium at the U to discuss the significance of equality. “Debating Discrimination” created dialogue about the following resolution: “Should the state of Utah pass legislation establishing protections from discrimination regarding sexual orientation and identity in the workplace?”

Johnson began her eight-minute perspective on the resolution by noting, “Working Americans should be judged on one criterion and one criterion alone, job performance not prejudice.” She said that 33 years after the first federal employment non-discrimination bill passed, the country has slowly progressed toward understanding the definition of discrimination and establishing equality to all. She encouraged everyone to give voice to the minority and protect everyone. “Another civil rights movement shall begin tonight,” Johnson said.

Anastasia Niedrich, representing the U’s Debate Team on the affirmative team, asked the audience how long the GLBTQ population must wait before Congress passes legislation to ensure equal rights in the workplace. “People are simply trying to be who they are and they need to be protected now because equality is right,” Niedrich said.

Chrissy Hayes, another member of the affirmative team, reassured the audience by saying equality is the top priority for the Utah State Legislature. She said GLBTQ issues are more important than education, poverty and health care, and through this resolution, Utah can set the precedent for the nation. “Utah is fighting for what is right – the principle America upholds above all others, equality,” Hayes said. Many GLBTQ people go to work every day in fear of losing health care and other benefits because of someone discovering their identity, she said. “Individuals should be judged on competency, not sexual orientation or gender identity.”

Her third point reflected the idea that as a large minority in Utah, the GLBTQ population can have a significant effect on the economy where tax revenue and cash flow will benefit all of Utah. The passage of the law would improve the quality of life for the GLBTQ population and give them equal rights to voice their opinions. Hayes concluded with a quote from John F. Kennedy: “Those who look only to the past or present are certain to miss the future.”

U student Danielle Hughes, on the opposition team, said the law would raise controversial issues that don’t correspond with the morals of many Utahns. In particular, she added that the majority of the Latter-day Saints in Utah would not support the bill. “If we wait for Congress to strengthen the laws, then Utah would most likely pass this bill,” Hughes said.

Near the end of the deliberation, Nina Hall, Hughes’ debate partner, made three contrasting points about the resolution. First, the current laws protect everyone in Utah and passing this bill is a waste of time, energy and focus. Instead, she said the money being spent on fighting the bill should be allocated to more essential issues like education, poverty and health care. “The plan would cause backlash in Utah because changing the mindsets of Utahns would be impossible,” she said. Hall also said businesses and employers will be negatively affected if the law passes. Finally, she recommended keeping the status quo and letting change happen on a federal level.

Sen. Chris Buttars, R-West Jordan, who in 2004 co-sponsored the constitutional Amendment 3, that defined marriage as “only the legal union between a man and a woman,” proudly defended traditional values, saying the law would cause many lawsuits. “I am going to get to the point like I usually do: It’s wrong, wrong, wrong,” he said.

Buttars contradicted himself by saying he will fight against Amendment 3 if it reappears before the Senate, while noting he doesn’t believe in discrimination because “discrimination is wrong and those who discriminate need to be punished.” Buttars questioned what would happen if this subgroup were to be accepted and how the passage of the bill would affect others. While Amendment 3 is, in fact, discriminatory, he also said he didn’t believe individuals who say, “Because we are born that way, you can’t discriminate against us.”

Gayle Ruzicka, president of the Utah Eagle Forum, defended Buttars by reiterating the importance of protecting order and morality in the state of Utah. “We have the responsibility to preserve the moral values of the people,” she said.

On the other hand, Will Carlson, manager of public policy for Equality Utah, said a healthy economy depends on rational decision-making, welcoming people who are the innovators and creators. “You discourage competency while promoting secrecy and distrust within the workplace,” Carlson said. By emphasizing the golden rule in which every religion believes in the importance of treating everyone with dignity and respect, he reinforced the importance of employees having the right to be judged on competency, not on their sexual orientation or gender identity. “It’s the inclusion from all church leaders that says morality calls for the passage to this law,” Carlson said.

Although 19 states, the District of Columbia and 150 cities and towns protect the LGBT community in the workplace, it took Colorado eight years to pass the law. Johnson thinks it will take at least 15 years for the state of Utah to give equal rights to the LGBT population. “The [Utah State Legislature] is going to chew me up and spit me out, but I am willing to get beat up knowing that I will initiate change and create dialogue,” she said.

According to the results of the debate, 44 out of 145 people believed the bill is unnecessary. “I would have been interested in speaking with those who oppose the bill so I could ask them if their thoughts remained the same after hearing all the positions,” Johnson said. She believes the process of educating people is a very slow and arduous one. “The U of U event is another step in hearing one another and learning.”

Johnson, a former Equality Utah board member, continues to work closely with the organization.

“As our strategy for the 2008 session took shape, it was determined that Rep. Johnson would be the best person to sponsor the [employment non-discrimination] bill in the House of Representatives,” said Mike Thompson, executive director of Equality Utah. “Her performance on the ‘Debating Discrimination’ panel is a perfect demonstration of her passion for the issue.”

 

SIDEBAR: Rep. Christine Johnson aims to make a difference

In 2004, when Sen. Chris Buttars, R-West Jordan, sponsored a marriage recognition policy bill, which defined marriage as “only of the legal union between a man and a woman,” Christine “Chris” Johnson was so upset she wrote a document in the middle of the night to be presented the next day at the capitol.

At the time, Sen. Karen Hale, D-Salt Lake City, sided with the Republicans on the proposed bill. In an effort to convince Hale that her constituents were not opposed to civil unions, Johnson stood outside of her local grocery store in the snow to get 100 signatures from people who wanted Hale to vote against the bill. She succeeded and went on to testify against the bill at the committee hearing. “I simply said that my homosexuality wasn’t a choice, but rather a reflection of my authentic self,” Johnson said. “I spoke of my love for my partner and daughter, and even though the sponsor felt his God condemned my commitment, my God approved completely.” She told the committee that morality is subjective and it is not the place of government to legislate morality.

Johnson and her family were interviewed by local media because they were the only gay family to testify. “We were on the news the next morning and my family became advocates for the gay and lesbian community,” said Johnson about her first steps into the field of politics.

Wanting to effect positive change and make a difference, she aimed to be a part of the capitol. In November 2006, Johnson was the only female running against six other candidates. With a 75.4 percent winning margin, she was elected to serve the residents of District 25 as a representative in the Utah House of Representatives. “The LGBT community got me elected into office,” said Johnson, a proud lesbian, single mother and activist.

“I respect anyone on the hill who is out and proudly fighting for equal rights,” said Bonnie Owens, staff intern at the LGBT Resource Center at the University of Utah.

For Rep. Johnson, D-Salt Lake City, the most difficult aspects of running a campaign was to raise the money to win and ask people to vote for her. “Authority is assumed and then respected when you are confident,” Johnson said. “People saw that I was passionate and voted for me.”

She believes everyone should have the right to live with authenticity – whether it is a man wearing makeup or a woman wearing men’s clothing. “You need to put your foot down when you feel something wrong inside you,” she said about standing up for your one’s values and beliefs.

Johnson supports public and higher education, women’s reproductive rights, literacy and minority issues, health care, open-space preservation and air quality. “It’s about portraying your passion with your heart,” Johnson said. 

Realizing the small progress she has made in the House as a female, Johnson created the Women’s Leadership Project in hopes of giving voice to a minority. “We don’t have enough minority voices in politics,” Johnson said. By visiting classrooms within her district, she encourages females to think about being community leaders in politics. After demonstrating how a bill winds through the process, Johnson asks students to write a paragraph about the significance of women and minorities in the government. The teacher selects the best paper and the winner gets to shadow Johnson at the capitol for a day.

Johnson spends her weekdays answering at least 50 e-mails a day, speaking with three to four organizations that want her attention, attending interim sessions every Wednesday and making a living through real estate. Despite this busy schedule, she said, “It is simply the labor of love and creating change in this state.”

She has a 15-year-old daughter, Olivia, who is a sophomore at Judge Memorial High School. Olivia dances 14 hours a week with the Ballet West Academy, gets straights A’s, is open-minded and educates herself on a variety of issues.

In her free time, Johnson enjoys cooking, spending time with her daughter and volunteering in the community. For example, Headstart, a program that assists children with literacy skills, recently invited Johnson to visit and play with the pre-school children.

She expects to continue fighting for equality and making a difference, but change does not come without personal sacrifice. “It’s been hard to balance professional and personal life,” she said.