A quick glance at our Summer events!
Summer is still poppin’ at QEJ with out awesome August events. Check it out!
- Jay’s Walking Tour on Saturday, July 30th. The famous Jay Toole, QEJ’s shelter organizer, will be leading a tour of her life through the 60′s as a homeless butch lesbian. The tour will begin at 12:00pm in Washington Square Park and last about 2 1/2 hours.
- Queer Writing Workshops on August 3rd and August 10th–both from 6:30-8:30pm. Lead by Brooklyn-based writer, Sassafras Lowrey, these workshops are for shelter residents and friends to explore their creative side and share with a queer-friendly group. Food and metro cards will be provided. Our writers will have a Queer Performance on Friday August 12th at 6pm where they will read their work. This event is open to the public.
- Are you interested in being a shelter facilitator? QEJ works in several shelters around NYC organizing queer shelter residents; if you want to learn more join us for Shelter Facilitator Orientation on August 5th (6-7:30pm) and August 6th (1-2:30pm). You only have to come to one! At this orientation Jay and Carlos will lead the group in learning how to facilitate shelter sessions.
- Come to QEJ’s 2nd Leadership School on Saturday August 13th from 12-5pm. This 4-5 hour workshop is intended for activists and shelter residents and will discuss queer history, defining racial/economic justice, and learning about the systems of economy. Food and metro cards will be available.
- Sunday August 15th is QEJ’s August Game Night! From 6-8pm we will be relaxing with some snacks and fun games. Scrabble? Monopoly? Spades? What’s your favorite game? Come school us (or watch us school you) as we enjoy a relaxing Sunday night together.
- Saturday August 20th is the 2nd Monthly Resident’s Movie Night. Join QEJ and friends from 6-9pm as we watch The Aggressives, a hard-hitting documentary about masculine butch lesbians. A discussion will follow the movie showing. Food and metro cards available.
- Monday, August 29th, QEJ’s Board Chair Terry Boggis will lead a Know Your Rights Training at 6pm. This event is for anyone interested in understanding their legal rights family issues and family law.
All events unless otherwise noted are held at the QEJ office. Metro cards are available to those who need it. We are located at 147 W. 24th St., 4th Floor New York, NY 10011
Support us on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Queers-For-Economic-Justice/18201778500
QEJ Pride March
Do you want to march in the Pride March on Sunday June 26th but don’t have anyone to march with?
Well look no further friend, come join QEJ as we proudly show New York that poor queers are just as important to the movement as anyone else. QEJ staff, volunteers, shelter residents and more will be struttin’ our stuff down 5th ave, and we would absolutely love it if you joined
Meet PROMPTLY 12pm on 39th St btwn. 5th and Madison Ave…look for the QEJ Van
RSVP with Jay at 917 939 2511 or jay@q4ej.org
Another QEJ leader, Ignacio Rivera, speaking at a Pride event
‘Oppression is oppression’: Kalamazoo Pride speaker Ignacio Rivera says ‘we can work together’ on GLBT issues
Published: Wednesday, June 08, 2011, 5:00 PM
KALAMAZOO — For Ignacio Rivera, Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual or Transgender (GLBT) pride is about being free to openly identify one’s self, no matter how complex that identity is.
“I am a gender queer, queer black Boricua (person of Puerto Rican/African/indigenous/Spanish heritage) from Brooklyn, New York,” Rivera said from Brooklyn. “Right now, I identify as trans-person, gender queer, and my pronoun is gender neutral, ‘they,’ ‘them’ or ‘their,’ or just my name.”
Rivera is an activist, performance artist, filmmaker and a founder of Queers for Economic Justice. Rivera recently performed at Fire in Kalamazoo and will give the keynote address at Kalamazoo Pride on Saturday.
Events such as Kalamazoo’s basically are about “visibility and also about trying to find a sense of equality.” In smaller towns “they are very necessary and very wonderful,” Rivera said.
“I actually think that the pride events in places that may be smaller or more conservative are places that need to have pride events. I think they have a different flavor than Pride of New York,” Rivera said. NYC Pride “is fantastic, it’s beautiful, but it’s huge, it’s grand, and some people feel that it’s very commercialized at this point.”
Rivera was born in Brooklyn in 1971. There was a time when Rivera identified as female, and became a single parent and was homeless.
If you go
Kalamazoo Pride
When: Saturday, June 11
Where: Arcadia Creek Festival Place
Cost: Free
On the Web: kglrc.org
Schedule
2 p.m., welcome address.
2:15 p.m., Le Souk Dance Company, Middle Eastern dance.
3 p.m., Community Showcase, talent show.
5 p.m., Nervous But Excited, folk duo.
6 p.m., State Representative Sean McCann.
6:15 p.m., keynote address with Ignacio Rivera.
7 p.m., Dunyua Drummers.
8 p.m., Doll House Invades Pride, drag queen/king show.
9 p.m., Pop Goes the Gio, Chicago band that’s been on Logo TV, MTV and is scheduled to be on “America’s Got Talent.”
10 p.m., Doll House Pops Pride, Pop Goes the Gio with drag queens/kings.
“Back then, when I had my daughter when she was 1, I came out as a lesbian,” Rivera said. As a parent in poverty, coming out, “I felt like there were lots of injustices around those things.”
An aunt invited Rivera to Massachusetts. Rivera earned a master’s degree and began grassroots organizing.
Rivera organized the first pride event in Lawrence, Mass., in the late ’90s. Some residents responded with a “Save the Children” event, to bus kids out of town to a theme park on the GLBT event’s day, “so they wouldn’t be subjected to Pride,” Rivera said. Religious groups fought to block their event’s parade permit.
At the same time, Rivera also was working for an environmental group fighting pollution from trash incinerators.
“Funny thing is, a week later, a bunch of us rallied to shut down the incinerators,” Rivera said. “Looking around at people fighting for people’s health and people’s rights, I saw the same (anti-GLBT) people fighting against us. … But in that moment we stood together, fighting side-by-side.
“I felt like people didn’t see the bigger picture. We lived in the same town, we breathed the same air. … It was pretty interesting.”
The experience stuck with Rivera during a move back to the NYC area. Rivera would like people to understand that “all oppressions are very much connected. Whether you agree or disagree with someone’s life, how they’re living, how they identify, what they look like, the bare bones of it is oppression is oppression. And we need to work together on these issues.”
Rivera often thinks of the quote attributed to Pastor Martin Niemoller about apathy during the rise of Nazi Germany: “First they came for the socialists, and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a socialist. … Then they came for me, and there was no one left to speak out for me.”
“I always think about those words. I think we get bogged down by a lot of differences, and sometimes differences scare the hell out of people.”
Rivera said in spite of differences in a community, there is much “that binds us together. We should think about how we can work together.”
Kenyon’s Speech for Newark, NJ LGBTQ Pride last night
Keynote Speech for Newark Pride Week
June 7, 2011
Remarks for Newark Pride Week City Hall Flag Raising Ceremony
Monday June 6th, 2011
Kenyon Farrow
First I want to thank the Newark LGBTQQ Advisory Commission, Newark-Essex Pride Coalition, Liberation in Truth Social Justice Center, and the African American Office of Gay Concerns.
When I first moved to the east coast from my hometown of Cleveland, Ohio in 1999, I moved to Jersey City. And like many people living in Northern New Jersey, I would spend a lot of time traveling on the PATH train into New York City, in the hopes of finding some safe space for a young Black gay man like myself, something called community.
I spent a lot of time on the Christohper Street piers in the West Village. Listening to the latest hip-hop, R&B, or house beats blaring from boom boxes, watching the next generation of ballroom legends perfect their best duckwalk, or butch realness runway—the broken slabs of concrete slung over the dark river that once upon a time, nobody else wanted, transformed into red carpet worthy of a Hollywood award ceremony. I would head into Two-Potato, a hole-in-the-wall dive bar just up the way, and catch the drag queens dart in and out of the flimsy curtain keeping their latest fashion creation mostly hidden from the audience until time for the big reveal. From there, the night might take me to Chi-Chiz, the bar that stood right next door to the PATH train, where I would sit at the bar, mostly getting drinks bought for me that I was to broke to afford, and in between the Anita Baker or Stephanie Mills oldies playing where the bar would seem to be singing in unison, I’d be talking to whomever was sitting next to me.
After some time, of spending many nights riding the rails underneath the Hudson River, I began to notice how many of us, mostly Black and Latino lesbians, gays, bisexual, queer and transgender folks were coming to and fro from Jersey City, Newark, and all parts of New Jersey in between, in search of community, a good time, or some place that felt safer than the homes, apartments, shelters, or street corners from which we were fleeing. I thought back on the many conversations I’d had at the pier, or on bar stools dotted along Christopher Street, where so many people who I’d socialized with in the West Village, NYC, were actually from New Jersey.
It made me think a lot about home, and even in my own work as an activist with FIERCE!, why we were fighting the gentrification and displacement happening to Black and Brown queer youth in the West Village, but had not yet stepped up to the task of working in the places where many of us actually lived.
Being from a city like Cleveland, which is the butt of many national jokes in the same way that Newark is, in that people blame the condition of the city on the people itself, and coming from such a place, means that you carry that stigma or mark. People carry the blame for a city’s condition, instead of understanding the way deindustrialization, the undermining of organized labor, the gutting of welfare and other safety net programs, education systems dependent on property taxes and the bloated policing and prison budgets as more responsible for the ways in which people have to live. In cities and communities like these, in the national conversations and media about the “gay community” it is almost as if LGBT people do not come from places like this.
Our cities are not places where life—certainly not fabulously queer life—can flourish, or so goes the logic. Most of are are not wealthy. Most of us do not have expendable incomes. Many of us have children—either our own, children of other family members we’re raising, or other people’s LGBT kids who’ve been kicked out. We, like most people around us, are a no more than 3 paychecks away from utter ruin. It feels cliché to say it, but the television images and sometimes advocacy organizations claiming to be speaking for us, don’t not only look like us, but aren’t speaking to the realities of what it means to be gay, black or latino, in a place like Newark. Race, class, gender and the community in which you grow up or live, all impact the way in which your life, and life choices are shaped. It is not that there can be no LGBT community in cities like Newark, but that it looks different, and sometimes in ways that are illegible to the so-called mainstream. In may ways, when primarily Black and Brown cities like Newark are discussed, especially in their proximity to being “LGBT friendly” is similar to the ways in which African countries are discussed, as “backward” where there are no local activists or communities of LGBT folk in those places who are working hard to challenge homophobia and transphobia, and are not waiting to be rescued by an American or European NGO.
Whether or not we are on the radar of the national LGBT movement as a legitimate set of organizations and coalitions with expertise in organizing in cities like Newark, is not important. It would be nice to be recognized. It would be nice to have some of those many millions of dollars in suport from LGBT foundations coming in to support the work here.
But sometimes the best work happens in the places where there isn’t tons of support. With abandonment can come freedom—some sense of radical possibility. It is a place where innovation can occur, and where our community, or base constituents we are organizing, have the most opportunity to hold us accountable for the work we’re claiming to do in their name. And it is also important to me, that we do this work not just in the gayborhoods of America like the West Village & Chelsea, but that the work happens in Cleveland, Detroit, New Orleans, Bed-Stuy and East New York, Brooklyn, and Newark, NJ.
When the life of Sakia Gunn was taken in 2003, the question of where we do work became even more important to me. And although I knew there were organizations and activists already in place in Newark, like Liberation in Truth, AAOGC and longtime Newark activists like James Credle, I was impressed by the level of activism that took place here around her case, and a level of social justice work for the LGBT community here in Newark has only increased since. And Newark Pride Week, the possibility of public celebration of who we are, and our contributions to this city, is the fruit of all of the labor its taken since 2003 to build a better world for the LGBT community in Newark.
Though there have been other acts of violence, and other forms of targeting and bias that have occurred since, and sometimes challenging moments from members of the community who feel like having Pride Week or any LGBT recognition is an imposition, or a somehow in a city like Newark, separate from concerns about racial justice. To those people, I would offer that the work being done here by the coalition of grassroots organizations to make schools safe for students, to combat the HIV/AIDS epidemic, to provide community activities locally for LGBT people is a benefit for any of us interested in reducing violence of any sort, of creating events and organizations that foster community and sense of belonging, and increasing the opportunities for supportive education enviornments for every student.
The fact that that we are here, celebrating PRIDE in Newark, because local organizations, local activists, decided to take care of home, is a testament to the strength, tenacity, intelligence and beauty of community organizing, the organizers who are here, many of whom have become close personal friends over the years. Struggle is never about arriving at some utopian destination, it is about the process of challenging what’s difficult, and continually building towards your vision of the world you want to live in.
So now the gentrification in NYC’s West Village is nearly complete—The Cristopher Street Pier was redeveloped and privatized. The boom boxes have long been banned. A seemingly never-ending runway on which many a ballroom legendary icon trained, was paved over. With it, the numbers of yuppie baby carriages, joggers, and high-end retail shops have sprung from the ashes of Black and Latino LGBT bodies lost to concrete, their ghosts just visible in the shadows of the Hudson River. Some of their stories have been captured in history. On Christopher Street itself, Two Potato was shuttered around 2002, and that bar that sat right next to the PATH station, Chi-Chi’z, poured its last drink this past March. What stands in its place is a large flourescent spotlight owned and operated by the New York Police Department, that probably cost several annual tuitions for a CUNY education, as a way to deter the young people from even stopping to hold a conversation.
So now that the NYC Christopher Street area has intentionally been made an inhospitable place for those of us who used to flock from Harlem, Bed-Stuy, East New York, Jersey City, and Newark night after night, I have to be thankful for the foresight of the LGBT community in Newark to be building community spaces right here, at home, for people to be able to organize, worship, receive needed services, and socialize.
So this year, we will celebrate Newark Pride with the usual mix of parties, marches, and fesitivities. We will raise this flag on Newark’s City Hall, which in many places is an act taken for granted. But I know that the celebrations are the result of struggle—a struggle that began long ago, has come along way, but has so very far to go!
Happy Pride, Newark!
QEJ Amazingly Queer Race for Economic Justice — TOMORROW, May 14th
Join us Saturday, May 14th to Race, to volunteer and to be a part of the Party to celebrate the winners at 4:00pm at the QEJ office. See You There!
QEJ Will Be There — Join Us!
Unite and Win: Stand Up for Workers’ Rights
New York City, NY
April 4, 2011 05:00PM to 07:15PM
Hosted by Chris Shelton, Vice President CWA District 1
Contact: 212 344-2515
On April 4 this year,the anniversary of Dr. King’s death, we will remind our elected officials that workers’ rights are human rights, and that those rights will not be destroyed.
In every state, in every community, the fight for workers’ rights and dignity goes forward.
And we’re not alone. Civil and human rights activists; union members and supporters; Latinos, Asians and immigrants; religious supporters; environmental, student and women’s groups; and many others: all of us will stand together for workers’ rights.
Some politicians want to silence millions of working and middle class families.
On April 4th at City Hall Park it’s time for Middle Class Families to make their voices heard. We will stand together. We won’t be silenced.
IT’S TIME TO FIGHT BACK
Sponsored by:
City Hall Park
New York City, NY
10007-1214
City Hall Park between Broadway, Park Row and Chambers Street
Whose House? Our House!
Whose House? Our House!
By Caitlin Breedlove, SONG Co-Director
Just a few weeks ago, I attended the Queers For Economic Justice annual reception as the Co-Director of SONG, with the gift of having my parents in attendance. Little did I know, how badly we would need the analysis and work of QEJ (and other LGBTQ working class organizations) so soon in Madison, Wisconsin. My family thought we had become middle class: that we were somewhat protected. However, now my aunt faces losing her job as a single mom, and her daughter (as a young girl with a disability) faces massive cuts to her schools. Everyone I know in the community there is deeply personally affected by the devastating bill and budget that Governor Walker is forcing on Wisconsin. Needless to say, the uprising of the people of Wisconsin is personal for me. I spent most of last week up there, in the cold beside my family, friends, and the community that raised me fighting for a just democratic process, our public space back, and our economic survival. What poor people and other oppressed people have been trying to tell all of us, has become clear to thousands in Wisconsin: the greed of the ultra-rich is endless and we have to fight for our lives, resources, air, water, other beings on this planet, and our dignity. They will give us nothing, we have to take it, and while as “middle class people” we are not as deeply impacted as poor folks, our historic buffer is disappearing. Millionaires will only protect Millionaires.
When in Madison, I had the incredible privilege of interviewing several LGBTQ leaders, people of color and white folks. I share some of their insights here. As Shameka Powell said: “This is so much bigger than collective bargaining, this is about human rights, and public good. That is what is at stake.” As LGBTQ people, we are part of this fight, we are workers, and are deeply affected. We are present in Wisconsin, and our community is still fighting a battle in a much bigger war: all of us against 5% of the planet that seeks total control of the planet’s resources. Poor LGBTQ people have always led the way in the LGBTQ movement in knowing and voicing these realities. Now we see even mainstream LGBTQ organizations and media, answering the call to the fight for worker’s rights. The importance of organizations that have been amplifying the reality that poverty and homophobia are connected and part of much bigger systems is key right now because our organizations have the base, the trust, and the wisdom to frame and lead these struggles forward.
Throughout the struggle in Wisconsin, we hear the chant: “Whose House? Our House”, as a call to the people to reclaim the public space of the Wisconsin Capitol. Few people know as much as poor LGBTQ people about being shut out of public space, both physically and culturally. In 2011, we have a chance to amplify our voices as poor LGBTQ people and allies—and share what we already know: homophobia, transphobia, racism, classism, and all forms of oppression lead to a zero sum game of violence, chaos and poverty for the majority and immense wealth for a very few.
Trans, Lesbian, Gay, Bi People: This House, this Capitol, is Our House. They have no right to tell us it is not our struggle, not our place, not our fight. We are workers as much as anyone else, and LGBTQ people in Madison are some of many leading a historic moment in our name. I encourage poor and working class LGBTQ people to join the many already involved to make our voices heard in the struggle in Wisconsin, Ohio, and all over this country. Solidarity!
QEJ says the obvious…still, being visible matters!
Study Undercuts View of College as a Place of Same-Sex Experimentation
New York Times
Amber Hollibaugh, interim executive director of Queers for Economic Justice, a New York-based advocacy group, said the results of the federal survey …
2011 Amazingly Queer Race Date Announced
AMAZINGLY QUEER RACE 2011
It’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for… Yes, the 5th Annual Amazingly Queer Race for Economic Justice is happening Saturday, May 14, 2011! We’ll have more of the same—queer racing, queer challenges, queer prizes, and of course… LOTS OF QUEERS! We’ll be setting up to register teams soon, so start asking your friends! We’re also looking for some fabulous people to help organize the race, so if you can volunteer a few hours or a few days, please email volunteer@q4ej.org. In the meantime, email all questions about the race to race@q4ej.org.
See you all at the Amazingly Queer Race!
Jay, Rebecca, Dan, Marita, and Tyler
Tonight! Former QEJ ED Kenyon Farrow to be Honored on BET!
We just found out that tonight at 7pmEST Black Entertainment Television (BET) will be profiling former QEJ Executive Director Kenyon Farrow as one of 4 Modern Black History Heroes, a series of 106 & Park specials on contemporary “unsung heroes.” QEJ’s work will also be shown in the segment.
The others profiled this month also include:
Kevin Liles, an author, a philanthropist and a former Def Jam Music Group president;
Marvelyn Brown, an author and AIDS activist;
and Beverly Bond, the founder of Black Girls Rock! Inc.
They will also be posting a longer interview with Kenyon on the BET.com website.
Also earlier today, the Huffington Post published Kenyon’s statement for QEJ on Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.
Tune in tonight if you can, and read the Huffington Post piece.
Congrats, Kenyon!
QEJ
