As the number of queer bars in the United States dwindles, discourse increases over how to preserve those that remain as safe spaces for the LGBTQ+ community. To many, this means asking cishet individuals to respect these spaces and keep them queer.
This may seem exclusionary for a group that relies on acceptance and love for all identities. However, the exact point here is that many LGBTQ+ people feel excluded almost everywhere else. The default assumption of society is that a person is cisgender and heterosexual until they come out as queer (and maybe even then, too). In queer bars, though, this script is flipped. It creates an atmosphere that allows people to have experiences as their true selves. It’s an opportunity to feel celebrated rather than studied.
Unfortunately, some have had this experience tarnished by cishet people who treat the space as they would a traditionally “straight” bar. Women on TikTok recount being harassed by straight men who wouldn’t leave them alone even after they said they’re lesbians. Others report being made fun of for approaching a woman in these spaces who then reveal they’re straight.
These experiences are all-too-common in day-to-day life, but the purpose of queer bars is to prevent them from happening there. This raises the question, then, of when and how it’s respectful for cishet people to enter these queer spaces.
Some request that cishet people not go to gay bars in general, others don’t have an issue with it, and more think it’s respectful to go in a group that includes queer people. This means, then, that we don’t have a clear answer for when it’s respectful for cishet people to enter these spaces. It seems, though, that the intent behind going is more important.
Gay bars are a lot of fun, and the accepting environment can make cishet individuals feel comfortable and safe as well. However, this openness is maintained by celebrating what makes us different and not judging people for living lives different from our own. Everyone entering these spaces – cishet or queer – needs to respect this.
They’re not places to ogle or judge. They’re not places to superficially preach allyship. They’re places where allyship must be practiced. They’re places to go support queer friends. They’re places that allow LGBTQ+ individuals to be celebrated for the part of their identity that has been oppressed for so many years and that continues to be today.
We have very few of these unique spaces left, yet they are so vital to the LGBTQ+ community. Make the ones we have left count, and keep them safe and uplifting spaces regardless of your sexual orientation or gender identity.