James Bouknight, MD, PhD (pronouns: He/His), white psychiatrist, speaks of growing up, family life, education and his personal and professional life. Born into a "close and loving family" in rural South Carolina, he grew up on a farm worked by others, his parents being teachers, and his maternal grandparents being a very supportive presence. He always knew he "wasn't like other kids", wasn't athletic, but excelled in school, attending Bishopville High School, as it was being integrated, calling off the junior senior. Aware of a flamboyant gay youth at school, and a gay man who was available for sex in Bishopville, Bouknight did not identify with them and was glad to start dating women when he attended Wofford, the fourth generation of his family to do so. Attending graduate school at Duke University was not a positive experience so Bouknight switched to the University of South Carolina where he had his first relationship with a man and earned his PhD in economics. He considers that relationship a "bad influence" since the man was closeted and engaged to be married. Bouknight then taught at Converse College, in an era when dating between professors and students was encouraged; he married the president of the student body, and their married life began well. He moved into the private sector and eventually became Chair of the Department of Business and Economics at Columbia College and his wife began law school. With time on his hands, Bouknight, keeping fit, began attending the YMCA in Columbia, SC, discovering it had an active gay scene, and his wife, learning of an affair he had with a man, demanded a divorce. It was a difficult time, leading to depression and financial straits. Finding a niche with happy, well-adjusted gay men in Columbia was a positive experience, and Bouknight began a relationship with Bob Stutts, another professor at Columbia College. At age thirty-five, he decided to enter medical school, realizing that the poor medical care his mother had received had led to her death. He attended the Medical University of South Carolina in Charleston, was out, and was friends with many other gay medical students. He did his residency in psychiatry at the Department of Mental Health in Columbia, SC, founding and running an AIDS support group; he eventually worked for a hospital and had a private practice, including many LGBTQ patients. When his relationship with Bob Stutts ended, he met Ramsey Still, whom he married in Maryland in 2013. He became board certified in geriatric psychiatry, one of the first in the state, and now, semi-retired, lives with his husband in Charleston, SC. At the end of the interview, Bouknight speaks of the illness and eventual death of his medical school friend, Olin Jolley, MD, of AIDS, and how those who are ill and dying are often put in the unfair position of taking care of those who visit them.
Barbara Nicodemus (pronouns: She/Hers), white retired school teacher, discusses her life, which she describes as "pretty boring," "pretty golden," and one lived under a "miracle cloud." Growing up in a close-knit, loving and accepting Catholic family in Indianapolis, IN, she accompanied her parents to marches and rallies in Chicago as a youngster. She attended Catholic schools (where she had to get permission to take physics instead of home economics), Ball State University, and Purdue, majoring in science education and later in biochemistry, when it was unusual for women to do so. Involved with another woman academician, she helped organize and run a women's center, "really a lesbian" center, and never encountered any sort of pushback there for her views or actions. She gave up working at Eli Lilly and Company, not agreeing with their philosophy, and moved with partner to various other universities, eventually moving to Clemson, SC. Starting a new career, Nicodemus became a high school teacher and had her education loans forgiven by teaching in the rural area of Walhalla, South Carolina. There, she was a "breath of fresh air," being out, when so many people were not. She continued to live under that "miracle cloud" of never facing any prejudice against her for being a lesbian, which she attributes to her personally being "passable" in her looks, and due to the Southern pattern of behavior of not being confrontational. After a year-and-a-half of attempts at artificial insemination, she gave birth to twin girls, whom she and her partner raised. While their relationship ended, the women remained close both emotionally and geographically. Nicodemus started and ran the "Upstate Women's Community" for lesbians for about ten years, putting on events to raise funds to help publish a newsletter. Teaching school, she was a role model for some students and staff and she expressed her disapproval once when an older friend dated a student. Retiring, she moved to Charleston with her wife, where she is involved with the Charleston Social Club, has joined book clubs (one specifically for lesbians), and volunteers to work with senior dementia patients. In speaking on LGBTQ topics, she notes her belief that gay men, like her brother, who also has children, might face more discrimination that gay women do; she describes her long-standing attendance at a women's festival, ponders its stand as terfs, trans-exclusionary radical feminists, not opening the festival to trans women, and questions her own thoughts on the topic. Being LGBTQ has just made her human, she feels, earlier noting that LGBTQ people often work harder than their straight peers, just to prove their worth. She ends the interview suggesting that while she has lived a life "in neutral," she has occasionally, when needed, shifted into "drive."
Tony Williams (pronouns: He/Him/His), white director and CEO of Charleston Pride, was born in Charleston, SC, grew up in Goose Creek, and after a childhood of moving to a variety of places on the east coast, he returned to the area in 1999. A College of Charleston graduate, Williams now works in software at Blackbaud. The interview begins with Williams discussing his earliest childhood memories, his relationships with his sister, parents and extended family and how he came out to them after coming to terms with his sexuality as a gay man. He describes the "transition" from identifying as bisexual in high school to fully accepting that he was gay in college, and the importance of LGBTQ gathering places in the greater Charleston area. These gathering places, primarily LGBTQ bars like Patrick's, Dudley's, Pantheon, The Chart, and D?j? Vu, as well as the mentorship of College of Charleston professor Tom_Chorlton helped him to find community in Charleston. Williams discusses his concerns regarding the current popularity and primacy of identity politics and labeling, and he notes a growing "isolation" within society, due possibly to the increasing dependency on apps and technology, and the impact it has had within LGBTQ communities. William then recounts the histories of local groups such as the Alliance for Full Acceptance (AFFA) and We are Family; and discusses the developments of Charleston Pride. He started as a volunteer with the event when it was in North Charleston, founded by Lynn Dugan and describes its move to downtown Charleston where it has greater visibility. He also speaks to the event's growth from just a single day event, "a parade, a festival, and an after-party", into a weeklong series of events celebrating LGBTQ life and culture. He ends his interview mentioning his involvement in the early planning of the development of a LGBTQ center in Charleston, modeled after similar centers in other cities._
George Thomas Lamme (Pronouns: He/Him/His), discusses his early years in Nebraska, moving to New York City and Chicago, and then settling in Charleston, SC where he became involved in many LGBTQ related projects and businesses. Growing up gay and Catholic in Beemer, Nebraska, Lamme always knew he was different; engaging in cowboy and Indian games, he always played Big Ruby, "a bar girl". Attending a Lutheran college, he intended to be a priest, but eventually became a teacher in a Catholic school in his hometown instead. Pursuing some legal action against the school, he was threatened with being outed by the administration if he did not quit; it was recommended he move to New York City. There, he pursued his interest in theatre, working with H.M. Koutoukas and La Mama's avant gard theatre, among other things. Moving to Chicago, where he had worked in the box office of the Academy Festival Theatre, he met David Cardwell and Jeff Miller, who moved to Charleston, SC. In 1978, Lamme came to visit and never left. He was instrumental in finding backers for their bar Les Jardins, soon working there, writing, staging, and directing various musical spoofs and tributes. He also was befriended by Richard (Dick) Robison, whose Garden and Gun Club Lamme later joined as staff. He describes the small "quiet? beautiful" town Charleston was, its social structure and its class of closeted gay men. "Everybody knew that there were important people in the city? who had boyfriends," he notes. "But Charleston was such a polite city, you don't bring up that subject because? [t]hat person is a good person?." As a bartender and a door man, he was involved with selecting or rejecting those applying for membership, and got to know drag queens, society women, bar owners, other bars and bar patrons, many of which he describes. He also became active in the founding and running of Helping Hands dedicated to raising awareness of HIV and AIDS and raising funds for people with AIDS. He reflects on some of the earlier aspects of gay life in the city, speaks of attending local and national LGBTQ parades, describes the devastation of Hurricane Hugo, his work in hotel banqueting, as a guide at the Calhoun (now Williams) Mansion, and in the tourism office of the City of Charleston. He ends by affirming how satisfying it is to see LGBTQ people out in the community, describing how children and others realize he is gay, and how he loves "the fact that not a single person makes any trouble for anyone walking hand in hand in Charleston right now."
Jensen Cowan (pronouns: They/Them) was born July 4, 1997 in Brandon, Florida, and discusses growing up in Socastee, adjacent to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, in an emotionally and verbally abusive home. They discuss chosen family and close friends, their relationship with their mother and four sisters in a blended family and what it meant to leave home to start a new life at the College of Charleston, with mentions of being in the Bonner Leadership Program there. Cowan describes the struggles of separating from their family financially and finding a method to pay for school. Working with We Are Family and attending functions of Alliance for Full Acceptance (AFFA), Cowan felt “discrepancies in maturities” in various groups, eventually finding supportive friends and neighbors to help with personal issues and the need for food. Cowan discusses identifying as queer, nonbinary, and trans, mentions a fundraiser they started to help pay for surgery and speaks of their capstone project to map all the gender-neutral bathrooms on the College of Charleston campus. Cowan notes a lack of response from College administrators on this and other LGBTQ oriented issues, describes the inconveniences and disruptions caused to their college studies by this lack of facilities and speaks to the insensitivity of some faculty and friends in using offensive vocabularies and inappropriate pronouns. Cowan and the interviewer discuss the lack of diversity within Charleston Pride, and the larger LGBTQ movement as a whole, while praising classes and faculty, such as Dr. Kristi Bryan, within the College’s Women’s & Gender Studies program and the positive effect it has had on them and others. The interview closes with a discussion of Cowan’s plans for the future after graduating in May 2019, having earlier mentioned a disinclination to return to working as an educator/camp counselor at Kids On Point (formerly Chucktown Squash), due to the fact that the students there would have known them under a different name.
As part of 2019 Pride Week on the College of Charleston campus, local television journalist Megan Rivers moderates and interviews four speakers at an "LGBTQ+ Justice: The Road Ahead Panel Discussion" sponsored by the Charleston American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) and the Ryan White Wellness Center. The panelists introduce themselves sequentially and then, slightly out of order, each one answers one question posed by Rivers. Cora Webb (pronouns: she/her/they/them), Program Director of We Are Family, addresses issues facing LGBTQ+ youth such as bullying; the failure of schools to stop it; bathroom access for trans students; and the state's "No Promo Homo" law prohibiting discussion of queer identifies except in a negative light. Michael Luciano (pronouns: he/him) speaks on HIV and AIDS as a Peer Treatment Educator at Palmetto Community Care, a member of the National AIDS Treatment Advocacy Project, the Southern AIDS Coalition, the Southern AIDS Strategy Coalition, the Tri-County Sexual Health Awareness Prevention and Education Initiative (SHAPE Tri-County), and other councils and committees. He mentions living with HIV for decades and focuses on SC state laws that target, criminalize. and stigmatize people living with HIV. Jerry Evans (pronouns: he/him), introducing himself as gay lawyer passionate about First Amendment issues, then discusses "religious refusal" and court cases pitting religious objections on certain topics against equal protection under the law for LGBTQ+ and other people. The last to be introduced, Kenya Cummings (pronouns: she/her/they/them), the Opportunities Organizer for Carolina Youth Action Project, speaks of her organization that serves and educates for girls, trans youth and gender non-conforming youth. She advocates for comprehensive sex education and discusses the state's over reliance on School Resource Officers (SROs), law enforcement officers who apply police tactics instead of educational approaches in difficult situations in schools, creating more problems than they solve.
John Martin Taylor (pronouns: He/His/Him) born in Baton Rouge, LA in 1949, discusses his youth, university years, his travels, various careers in art and the culinary world, his family, friends, lovers and his husband. His father was a scientist with the Manhattan Project who moved the family to Orangeburg, S.C. Taylor speaks of a happy outdoor childhood, with some African American friends in the segregated South and little awareness of gay life or issues. The family also summered at Hilton Head, S.C. before its development, giving Taylor firsthand experience with the land and its foodways. He attended the University of Georgia in Athens, Ga. at two different times, for undergraduate and graduate degrees. He speaks at length of the artistic circles there, including that of the musical group, The B-52s, whose first concerts he attended and with whom he remained friends, later describing their visit to the Charleston gay bar, Les Jardins. He came to Charleston, S.C. in 1975, left for the Virgin Islands, and lived in Paris, France and in Italy, pursuing a career as a visual artist and a photographer, eventually, becoming American Liaison and Food Editor of the French periodical ICI New York. Returning to Charleston, he had little to do with the local gay scene, feeling an equal attraction to men and women, or mostly to particular individuals who interested him. As his love for cooking grew, influenced by what he calls his strong “maternal instinct,” his childhood experience crabbing and fishing in the Lowcountry, his mother’s culinary skills, and his father’s interest in wines, he began to focus on a career. After learning the business in New York City, Taylor opened Hoppin’ John’s, a cookbook store in Charleston, and quickly became the recognized expert on Lowcountry and regional cooking and foodways, eventually publishing articles on the topic in local, regional and national publications. A serendipitous find of a manuscript cookbook from St. John’s Parish of Berkeley County prompted and nourished further research. After recovering from the damage done to his bookstore by Hurricane Hugo in 1989, Taylor published his first book, Hoppin’ John’s Lowcountry Cooking in 1992. He has published three books since then and mentored many while enjoying the friendship and respect of leading scholars in the field. Taylor notes the changes in the local culinary and restaurant scene, lauding many chefs and proprietors for their contributions. He and Mikel Lane Harrington were married in Washington, D.C. in 2010. Through Harrington’s work with the Peace Corps, the couple, based in Savannah, Ga. and Washington, D.C. have lived in various locations across the world.
Terry Cherry (pronouns: She/Her/Hers), white police officer, discusses the path of her life from birth in North Carolina, to education in California and elsewhere, to her service, in a number of capacities, as an out LGBTQ person in the Charleston, SC police force. She was born in Pinehurst, NC into a Methodist family. Her parents were both professors and very accepting and loving. Identifying as boy, she felt constricted by what society demanded of her, and went into therapy as a child to help with her anger at the situation. She attended UCLA, and when studying abroad in Australia, she reached a crisis when she nearly died from influenza. At her recovery, she decided to live as fully and honestly as possible. She came out to her parents, at first assuming she would be a disappointment and "imperfect," something her family totally rejected. At the Church of Christ-affiliated Pepperdine University, getting an MBA, she stressed LGBTQ issues and after graduating, she worked in the private sector before asking herself, "What can I do to make a memorable impact?" Turning to law enforcement, she went through the San Diego Police Academy training and in 2012 returned, hesitantly, to the Lowcountry where she has family. Expecting to find herself in a more conservative environment, she nevertheless lived openly in her daily life and work for the Charleston Police Force. She first served as a patrol officer on James and Johns Island, where she made an "investment" in learning the culture and heritage of the community, becoming a valued friend to many. She was officer of the year in 2017 and was among the first on the police force to participate in the Pride parade. Throughout the interview, Cherry speaks of the need to be oneself, to always expect the best of all situations, and others, and to ignore stereotypes, while working for social justice. She also notes that the Charleston Police Department, where she has worked as liaisons to the LGBTQ and Latinx communities, and now serves as the head of recruitment activities, has become a leader in the nation in diversity and inclusion, while not necessarily advertising the fact. She also gives a few brief vignettes of her professional life, referencing working the Emanuel AME massacre, talking a young lesbian out of suicide, and other incidents. She also discusses the city of Charleston's hate crimes ordinance.
Narrator_042 (Pronouns: He/Him/His), who requested the withholding of his name from the interview, discuses growing up in a small town in South Carolina as part of a financially "pretty well-off" blended family. At a young age, he began to notice that he was different. Realizing that he identified as gay, the narrator encountered resistance and hostility from family members. He recounts his experiences of starting to embrace his identity. In the process, he experienced "a lot of acceptance from friends," but at home, he realized "things were kind of shunned away or seen as just wrong," or even "demonic." He details his family's denial of his sexuality, their attempts to rid him of what they viewed as a "demon," and their attempts to maintain a strict home life structured around religion and scripture. This included monitoring his activity to prevent exposure to what they viewed as corrupting content on television and the internet. Despite such opposition, he periodically came out to his family, first at the age of thirteen, again at fifteen, and for a third time as a College of Charleston student. He describes in detail the reactions of the people closest to him, the actions taken by his family, and the challenges he continues to encounter with family members and how they have progressed over time. Note: At the request of the narrator, his name and other identifying details have been removed from the transcript, and the audio file of this oral history interview is not available. In lieu of a proper name, the speaker is referred to as Narrator_042, and other deletions made to the transcript are denoted in brackets.
In this interview Crystal Denise Helton (pronouns she, her, hers), a white program coordinator at the Medical University of South Carolina (MUSC), speaks of growing up in West Virginia, her awakening to her sexual identity, her experiences with friends, family and lovers, her marriage and divorce, her conversion to Judaism, and her reflections on herself and society. An only child growing up in with parents who were divorced, but still living together, Helton had a solitary youth, taking refuge in reading, offering escape from an alcoholic father, and a sometimes-inattentive mother. Closeted in high school, she nevertheless had a girlfriend who lived nearby and she avoided the censure of disapproving peers while attending a series of different churches and denominations. Helton first realized she was lesbian when she had a crush on a Sunday school teacher, and evolved a healthy attitude to her sexuality without the guidance or advice of others. Leaving home, near Princeton, West Virginia, Helton attended Marshall University and later lived in Lexington, KY where she switched from a PhD program in history to a masters program in library science, and where she was in a relationship with the woman who eventually became her wife. While she understood prejudice against gay people, Helton never felt much of it directed at her, commenting that her conversion to Judaism, completed at Kahal Kadosh Beth Elohim (KKBE), in Charleston, SC, has sparked more of a negative response from others than her sexuality. Her ex-wife joined her in the conversion experience and there was much resistance to this religious change in her spouse's family. The breakup and divorce (the couple had three varying marriage ceremonies, including a very positive experience at KKBE), was difficult for Helton, who did not instigate it. Calling her ex-wife the extrovert, and herself an introvert, Helton discusses her family of choice, including a long-time friend, and new ones made in a bocce league and among "murderinos", fans of the "My Favorite Murders" podcast. She speaks of learning patience in a romantic relationship, and discusses the greater ease with identity and gender fluidity she sees in people younger than she. She believes that being a member of the LGBTQ community has brought her insight into privilege, power, and prejudice in the larger society.
Vanity Reid Deterville (she, her, hers), discusses her upbringing in Charleston, SC, college years spent in Atlanta, GA, and the challenges she faced as accepting herself and being accepted in society as an African American trans woman. Growing up in an extended religious family, Deterville knew she was different from most of her friends and family as she heeded the warning of her grandmother to not share her concept of her gender identity with most other people. Attending Morehouse College in Atlanta opened up new ways of expressing gender identity and sexual orientation for her, but conflicts with her family over these and other issues led to an unstable period in her life, when she experienced homelessness or near homelessness, financial problems and battles with drugs and dependency. She describes the various stages of self-expression she went through at Morehouse and the issues presenting feminine triggered at the all-male school and how over the years, there have been family rifts and reconciliations. She addresses what it was like to come out in Charleston, mentions the role the LGBTQ youth organization We Are Family played in the process and speaks a bit about the bar scene, articulating a stratification she noticed along class and racial lines._Deterville also speaks about local transgender issues, the segregated nature of LGBTQ life, and how many of her friends are more eager to attend Black Gay Pride events out of town rather than local gay pride events. She also notes the irony that people in the white community seem more empathetic on, and attuned to, transgender issues, than many in the people of color community. Yet white gay men tend to want to label and define her only as a drag performer and not accept her for her true status. She refers to a play "Sugar in the Grits" she wrote and performed for the local MOJA festival, a rare event that linked Gullah-Geechee heritage and LGBTQ life._In response to the question of what being LGBTQ has meant to her, she answers that it has led to "trailblazing," being constantly open to questioning normalcy, learning to love oneself, despite what one is taught, and being able to look at life in an a more nuanced and even more spiritual manner._
Sunshine Goodman (pronouns: She/Her/Hers) discusses life experiences, spirituality, work in the beauty industry, her philosophy and attitude to life and her assumption of the role as a “self-proclaimed ambassador of authenticity.” Growing up in Roanoke, VA, Goodman spent time as a youth with her mother’s family in Charleston, SC. Bullied in school for appearing feminine and steered away from coming out in a small conservative town, Goodman left after high school to live with an aunt in Charleston. First working in women’s fashion stores, Goodman then became an apprentice with a stylist to gain a barber’s license. While pursuing a strong sense of personal style and founding a brand called Celebritimage, Goodman also searched for the most authentic way of living and manifesting a God-given individuality. While getting both positive and negative feedback for the change she made in her appearance, Goodman refused to be defined by an image, instead feeling that “everything I do...is for the benefit of other people. Even the way I look is not just for me.” Goodman discusses her feelings about God’s watching out for all, her experiences with angels, numerology, and prophetic voices telling her truths about others and herself. It is a gift she uses to help others find confidence, their true calling, and to embrace their bodies and sexuality, also the theme of her book Three Seasons of Life: Discovery, Believe, Faith. Living briefly in Los Angeles, Goodman speaks of being gender fluid and identifying with the trans community, saying that all are capable of transformation. In response to questions, she addresses homophobia within the African American and African American religious communities, prejudice within the LGBTQ community, and she describes many Charleston bars such as Dudley’s, Pantheon, the Cure, and others, especially the once Black-friendly Déjà Vu. She notes the positive effects of increasing LGBTQ visibility yet thinks that it drives some back into hiding for fear of being identified with it. While Goodman uses social media to help influence people to embrace their true selves, she laments the abuse of dating apps. She concludes the interview with her thoughts on gentrification in Charleston, and the need of leaving a legacy, especially being Black and gay. Note: This interview was conducted when the narrator preferred male pronouns. The narrator now uses she/her pronouns and requested they be changed. The pronouns were substituted and are bracketed in the transcript, but they were not altered, or removed, from the audio file.
Stephen “Steve” Cagle (pronouns: He/Him/His) discusses his upbringing in North Carolina, education as a pharmacist, service in the armed forces, his experiences as a gay man in the South, abroad and in California, and eventually opening a gay bed and breakfast with his domestic partner, Charles S. Holt, at Folly Beach, SC. Born in Concord NC, he grew up with an ailing father who died young, and a mother who struggled to find her son positive male role models. Knowing he was gay from an early age, Cagle, while having sexual experiences, kept quiet about his orientation in his hometown where such things were not discussed, but not necessarily condemned. He had somewhat closeted affairs when he attended pharmacy school at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. Drafted into the army, Cagle, wanting to serve his country to fulfill his father’s inability to do so, found a fairly tolerant attitude to gays in the military. Despite others being out, he was more reserved, yet he mentions sexual experiences at bases at home and abroad in his service in northern Italy. After leaving the service Cagle lived in Henderson, NC, and then in Charlotte, NC, working as a pharmacist. He describes a gay bar in Charlotte sharing a site with a Denny’s Restaurant and explains the allure and dangers of anonymous sex in rest stops on the Interstate 85 Highway corridor in North Carolina, mentioning a Highway Patrolman who frequented those sites. Having been raised an only child and feeling he lacked social skills in befriending people, Cagle did find relationships, eventually falling in love with a married US Marine who suggested Cagle move to California in 1977 to be near him. There, the affair ended, as Cagle knew it would, but he met Charles (Chuck) Holt, who worked in Los Angeles, reading film scripts and crossing paths with celebrities such as Liberace and Rock Hudson. The men became a couple, and they began to explore their options in 1986 after Holt discovered he was HIV positive. The couple pulled up stakes, began an extended road trip across the country, guided by Damron’s Gay Guides, and ended up founding and running the gay Charleston Bed and Breakfast at Folly Beach. Cagle discusses the place’s importance, its success, the friendly acceptance it met on Folly Beach, also mentioning Hurricane Hugo, and how others, including his mother, came to accept him and help run the B and B after Holt’s death in 1995. Cagle sold the B and B, retired from the Ralph Johnson Veterans Administration Hospital and now lives in Charleston with his husband John Meffert.
Pat Patterson (pronouns: He/Him/His) speaks of family life, childhood, growing up, coming out, his political activism through drag performance, interactions with the Methodist Church, and his perceptions of the LGBTQ community. Born and reared in a loving and accepting family environment in Spartanburg, SC, he attended Wofford College, the 37th family member to do so. “I’m a Palmetto tree with fairly deep roots,” he notes. He came out in graduate school at the University of SC, and speaks about the founding of its Bisexual Gay and Lesbian Association (BGLA) and how he assumed his drag persona Patti O’Furniture, “a bully pulpit to raise awareness,” on a dare. At various points in the interview, Patterson speaks of the stratification of the LGBTQ community (“part of our charm and part of our problem”), with most of the focus on Charleston, identifying the conservative “blazer gays” who practice “an odd social decorum” at private parties, the “SIN” or service industry gays who are more out, and other socially and geographically distanced groups. He speaks of racism, and racial and trans insensitivity, the difference between the Charleston Pride and the Columbia, SC-based South Carolina Pride organizations, the gay rugby team, the Charleston Blockade, and K. J. Ivery, once a student of his and now an out trans officer of the Charleston Police Department. Having first done AIDS work in Columbia, SC with his friend Bill Edens, he became involved with the SC Equality Coalition, and he mentions a variety of other LGBTQ organizations and leaders. He began commuting to Charleston to perform drag at the bar Patrick’s, eventually moving there, arranging performances at Dudley’s, and he now also performs at brunches, breweries and bingo, usually emceeing, giving his tips from the audience to charity and passing the hat at performances for different causes and organizations. Straight audiences, he notes, are often more appreciative, and in describing his own indoctrination into drag, he shares some of the vocabulary, mentions those icons who influenced him and praises Jay White for his Brooke Collins performances. He names and describes many bars throughout the state, speaks of his evolution as a performer and activist, as well as the need to be aware of how unintended insults or slurs can occur. Making distinctions between religion and faith, the latter very important to him, Patterson also describes his family’s attachment to their local Methodist congregation in Spartanburg and their dedication to liberalizing the Methodist Church in general.
Blanche McCrary Boyd (pronouns: she/her/hers) describes the events that lead to her becoming an acclaimed novelist and professor at Connecticut College. Born in Charleston, SC in 1945 to working class parents, she lost her father at age 15, one of the crucial events of her life. Living with family on a 400-acre plantation near Rantowles, SC, she became “radicalized” by events seen on television, realizing, unlike other members of her family, that she lived in a racist society, finding a “sense of horror” and a “sense of beauty” in the South. She attended Duke University and met Dean Boyd, the man she married, while attending Harvard University summer school. Boyd credits her husband for helping her mature and encouraging her writing once she decided upon that as a goal. Moving to California, Boyd began writing seriously at Pomona College, and won a Wallace Stegner Fellowship in creative writing at Stanford University. Her marriage unraveled, as she discovered feminism, and her attraction to women, bringing her to a “different reality.” She had starting drinking alcohol soon after her father’s death and she spent over a decade abusing it and drugs as she moved to New York and became a “radical lesbian.” She helped set type for the classic novel Rubyfruit Jungle by Rita Mae Brown, and founded Sagaris, an “institute for feminist thought,” associating with leading feminists, including accused bomber Patricia Swinton. She published essays, mostly about the South, in The Village Voice, learned how to “seize” her authority, and published books on popular musicians under the name Vivian Claire. She returned to Charleston, continuing writing and publishing novels, becoming sober in 1981. She discusses how a teenage car wreck involving a Black man’s death became the “fulcrum of my understanding of life” and how it serves as a metaphor for America as she wonders “what white people who are anti-racist are going to do about white supremacy.” She and her wife Leslie are the mothers of twins, James and Julia, and Boyd reflects on parenting, Leslie’s life-threatening illnesses, and how her novel Tomb of the Unknown Racist has capped her fiction writing career. As retirement from Connecticut College looms, she assesses her accomplishments, notes satisfactions, and the many surprising turns her life took.
K. J. Ivery (pronouns: He/Him/His), the first openly trans officer with the Charleston Police Department, discusses growing up, coming into his sexuality and gender identity, schooling, family relations and a variety of other topics. A Charleston native, Ivery grew up in a religious family where sexual non-conformity was not encouraged, and in a city where one faced further discrimination for being both Black and queer. He experienced difficulties with his parents after identifying as bisexual in middle school. Later identifying as gay, Ivery had a girlfriend in high school. He speaks of using the internet to find information and peers while in school, having attended Charles Towne Academy and later the Academic Magnet High School. He found the latter place very accepting, despite not being permitted to start a Gay-Straight Alliance, which he nevertheless did, using a different name to mask it. Identifying as trans-masculine, he discusses how he didn't come out to his family until he was identified in the Post & Courier as an openly transgender police officer. He began to investigate this part of his identity while attending the University of South Carolina, in Columbia, where he again was very active in its Gay-Straight Alliance. Ivery was impressed with Columbia's Harriet Hancock Center, and he discusses the arbitrariness and social constructs of gender, speaks of the "awesome things about... identifying as queer" and expresses delight in not being trapped in the limitations of being a cis-gender male, while also discussing the stud/femme roles prevalent in some lesbian communities. Having majored in criminology, he returned to Charleston in 2012 and immediately began working with the Charleston Police Department, which he lauds for its openness and high standards, and which adapted easily to his transitioning. On the force, he first worked in West Ashley neighborhoods before moving to the tourist districts downtown, while serving as an LGBT liaison to the community, which he describes as cliquish, and stratified along economic, racial and even geographic lines. He has worked with We Are Family, the Alliance for Full Acceptance (helping to administer the Trans Love Fund), Charleston Area Trans Support (CATS), and the Charleston YOUth Count, as well as founding a trans-masculine support and social group. He describes his relationship with his wife, Sam Diamond, the marriage ceremony they created and which their families attended, and how society looks at and presumes it understands the dynamics of their interracial marriage. He contrasts his spirituality compared to his family's rigid religious beliefs, voicing his respect for them and their views and noting the growing acceptance by his parents and siblings. Before concluding he also addresses gentrification in Charleston, specifically in regard to his grandparents' home on Line Street, his attendance at an early Charleston Pride Parade, his social life, and the advancements and progress of the LGBTQ community.
Michael Lott (pronouns: He/Him/His). In the first of two oral history interviews, Michael Lott discusses his early years, his family, coming out, training and practice as a psychiatrist, his personal and professional life in New York City in the era of AIDS, and his health and retirement. Born in Norfolk, VA, he grew up in the Charleston, SC area on James Island, closely connected to his mother and grandfather, but alienated from his father, whom he was told was his stepfather until he was eight. Deeply religious, he would try “to pray the gay away” after various youthful sexual encounters, even as he mentions religious figures who were gay. He began college at Furman and finished at the College of Charleston, experiencing and describing closeted gay life on campus, in bars, like the Garden and Gun Club, and the city. Engaged briefly, he broke that off and was condemned for his sexual orientation by his Campus Crusade for Christ friends. His own near-death and the death of his brother prompted him to begin living an authentic life as he began his studies at the Medical University of South Carolina (MUSC) in 1980. He briefly mentions being on a plane hijacked to Cuba along with a gay CIA agent, and speaks more fully of homophobia at MUSC aimed at him and at an early AIDS patient at Charleston County Hospital. Serving on national medical school boards and committees, he engaged in gay and lesbian related causes, continuing his education in San Francisco (under a doctor who was a part of the Dan White murder trial) and did his residency in New York City, as it experienced the crises of AIDS, crack, and homelessness. Moving there in 1985 as “a farm boy from South Carolina” he eventually ran “with the Saint [disco] crowd”, partied with “beautiful people” on Fire Island and eventually became known as “the Tommy Tune of Death” for helping choreograph the exits of many friends lost to AIDS. He taught at New York University before “selling out” to work for drug companies, eventually going on disability due to his own HIV status. A slow progressor, diagnosed in 1989, he did not go on medications until 2016. Lott moved to Asheville, NC in 2019 and was settling in when the COVID-19 pandemic began. He speaks favorably of the city’s liberal attitudes and ends speaking about the sadness of all his losses but his happiness that younger LGBTQ people have not had to endure experiences similar to his.
Shelli Quenga (pronouns: She/Hers), describes living all over the world, moving to Charleston in her 20s and coming out as a lesbian in her 40s. Her father was in the Air Force, and she discusses her experiences being the daughter of a mixed-race couple with a Guamanian father and a white mother. Educated at Vassar, she married twice. Although she had a gay uncle, “it just never occurred to me that being gay was an option,” she states. Married with one child, she met another woman with four children (two withs special needs) and their relationship began; the coming out process was “tortuous.” During it, she lost a relationship with her daughter, her parents, and her job due to its homophobic work environment. Quenga discusses how her experience differs from that of lesbians who never married men, noting her realization that heterosexuality did give her more power and status. She speaks of her obliviousness to LGBTQ people and issues before coming out and her limited awareness of the Charleston LGBTQ community. That changed once she met Lynn Dugan and began to attend functions organized by the Charleston Social Club, a local lesbian group that Dugan founded. She describes the pressure she feels to keep her personal and business lives separate, including on social media, while also observing how such mundane things as health care forms can be off-putting to LGBTQ people and express subtle discrimination. With the passage of time, she has become more vocal in order to demonstrate to others how misleading or stereotypical their assumptions about her can be, and she has found a shift in those around her, too. She and her wife have been accepted by their extended families, their children now have LGBTQ friends, and Quenga discusses how they keep her up to date with terminology and issues in the community. She mentions the rupture in the congregation of Old St. Andrews Episcopal Church over the ordination of a gay bishop, and ends the interview discussing racism and sexism in South Carolina, and how an inability to be fully free and out causes her to question staying in the state. Her advice for younger people, however, is to leave the state, achieve success not possible here, and then perhaps come back.
Douglas Seymour (pronouns: He/Him/His) relates the story of his abusive childhood, growing up and attending school and college in Charleston, SC, his life as an adult, and his work as a peer navigator for people with HIV, often speaking forcefully on the corrosive impact of homophobia. He was beaten by his father for not liking sports and cars, and, although he adored his mother, she told him “being gay was worse than being a child molester and a child murderer.” He always knew he was attracted to men, and if “there hadn’t been the hitch of being told it was wrong...it would have been a natural flow into adulthood.” He graduated First Baptist High School, and due to his father’s demands, attended the Citadel, terrified that he would be picked on for being gay. There, however, he found acceptance among upperclassmen for his knowledge of pop music and found other gay cadets. Having started frequenting the bar Basin Street South as an underage teen, he began going to the King Street Garden and Gun Club, and Seymour recalls his times there and that era of the late 1970s and early 1980s as one of the happiest periods of his life. After college, he worked as a journalist in Summerville, SC, and he describes the cliquish nature of Charleston gay life at the time. His lack of self-esteem, he says, prompted his alcoholism and his settling into personal relationships that were often abusive. He lived in Washington, DC, from 1982 to 1991 and returned to Charleston with a diagnosis of AIDS, told by physicians to prepare to die. After living with his parents, and coming out to them, he moved into his own apartment and received health care from his physician and Lowcountry AIDS Services. Facing health crises, he quit drinking and quit smoking, hired a personal trainer and was in the best shape of his life in his fifties. He began to work for the local Ryan White program as a peer navigator for people newly diagnosed or those long-term survivors like himself. Seymour describes some of the social support programs he set up and notes the quandary of “a whole bunch of us gay men...[with] no career, no retirement...because we weren’t supposed to be here, and now we’re older, we’re isolated...[and] it kind of feels like nobody wants you.” The interview ends with reflections on the lack of a variety of specific spaces for LGBTQ people and how Charleston has changed over the years.
Charles W. Smith discusses growing up, his adult professional life as a city planner and realtor, his personal life and his work as an activist for LGBTQ rights. His family lived in Orangeburg, Beaufort, Florence and Charleston and he was educated at the College of Charleston and Clemson University, moving to Miami in 1984. His early family life was overshadowed by the illness and death of an older brother. Realizing he was gay, he avoided being bullied in school by staying closeted. In 1987 in Miami Beach, FL, he met Carlos Guillermo Rodriguez. Soon after, Smith told his family he was gay and Rodriguez tested HIV positive. He wanted Smith to leave him, but Smith refused; their families in South Carolina and Colombia, South America accepted them. Trinity Episcopal Cathedral in Miami, with which Smith was affiliated as a senior warden, was also accepting and affirming. After his lover’s death in 1995, Smith, who had run for political office, but lost, moved to Charleston, SC in 1996, finding a changed city, which he attributes to Mayor Joseph P. Riley, Jr. We Are Family, a youth-oriented LGBTQ organization had been founded by Thomas Myers and Smith stayed, founding a real estate firm catering to LGBTQ clients. There were a number of bars in town he remembers frequenting; he affiliated with St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, a historically African American congregation opened up to white congregants, many of whom were LGBTQ. Smith and others, mostly non natives, such as Linda Ketner, Jim and Warren Redman-Gress, Carolyn Kirk, Lynne Moldenhauer and Linda G. William, helped found Alliance for Full Acceptance (AFFA). They publicly confronted a newspaper ad attacking LGBTQ people. This, Smith believes, began the process of removing shame and empowering the LGBTQ community. Smith also describes the “thousand year rainfall event” of 2015 and his marriage to Rob Suli that year, in a Columbia, SC hospital to ensure their rights were respected in the arena of health care. He notes the importance of the internet to LGBTQ people in finding community. He mentions Lowcountry Gay and Lesbian Alliance (LGLA), the lives of Jay Edgar Hoover and Clyde Tolson in Miami, and two gay men, who wintered in Charleston, SC. They, according to Smith, participated in the gay purges of US State Department employees in the 1940s and ‘50s. He also mentions the ownership of gay bars in Charleston, SC and the conflict over LGBTQ rights that has split the local Episcopal Diocese.
Taylor DeBartola tells the story of his upbringing in Peachtree City, Georgia, a town he describes as “very conservative.” He discusses the competitive relationship he had with his younger brother who is close in age, as well as the role that religion played in their early life. DeBartola reflects on the way that he revealed his sexuality to his family, and the period of time where things between them were rocky, discussing the ways in which he had to be patient and allow his parents to “take their time” to accept him. Taylor then talks about his “chosen family,” and the way they all met at Dudley’s, a popular gay bar in downtown Charleston. He details the ways he sees gatherings with gay men changing in recent years, moving from public spaces to more private locations such as personal residences. Taylor also discusses gay married life in the South, later noting that he and his now-husband were “engaged when it was not going to be legal,” and stressing that young people should educate themselves on gay history, especially the HIV/AIDS crisis, which he stresses is far from over. He also talks about the ways that particular books shaped him and his desire to learn more about gay history, mentioning Harlan Greene’s Why We Never Danced the Charleston. DeBartola then describes the impact that artist and activist David Wojnarowicz has had on his life, and the ways that he has tried to trace Wojnarowicz’s and his partner’s time spent on a trip to Charleston. Finally, Taylor talks about his experiences being an openly gay College of Charleston student.
At a “Unity in the Community” Forum sponsored by the Alliance for Full Acceptance (AFFA), Reverend Robert Arrington answers questions posed to him by female impersonator/performer Symone N. O’Bishop and members of the audience. After introductions by emcee Regina Duggins (aka Gina Mocha), Arrington speaks of his personal life, conditions in the lowcountry, and the development and evolution of his open and affirming Charleston Unity Fellowship Church. He describes growing up in Durham, NC, and living in Rochester, NY, before moving to Charleston, a place he finds not as progressive or easy to live as elsewhere. He mentions a dysfunctional childhood, being misdiagnosed with learning disabilities, and recalls various phases of his life, including being married to woman, being a female impersonator, being HIV positive for thirty years, and the love he now shares with his husband, stating that they were the first “out” African American gay male couple in the area to have a house built for them by Habitat for Humanity. Most of the interview, however, focuses on the growth of his church, his plans for it, and the need to be completely transparent in all aspects of one’s life, including one’s spiritual life. He and O’Bishop discuss the behavior of some closeted LGBTQ church goers, who hide their sexual and emotional lives to worship under ministers who preach against homosexuality. The only “out” African American minister in the area, Arrington describes his church as Pentecostal-related and its policy of accepting every one of every sexual orientation, identification and race. He responds to an HIV-positive transgender woman of color asking how to find a loving relationship; he and the interviewer also discuss sexually irresponsible behavior and strategies for finding a life partner. Prompted by other queries from the audience, Reverend Arrington agrees that there is a need for more coordination with his church and the community it represents with other agencies in the area. An audience member comments further that there must be a new attitude regarding such participation: instead of asking to be included, one must demand that inclusion. The interview ends with Chase Glenn of AFFA and others describing programs and initiatives of related interest in the area. A call for action results with applause at the comment that this forum may mark a new direction for one of Charleston’s marginalized communities.
Andrew Becknell, sometimes known as Andrezia (pronouns: they/them, but also she/her) describes growing up in the Charleston area as a bigender or two-spirit person. They grew up in a conservative Catholic family, moving from West of the Ashley to Mount Pleasant. Becknell's parents divorced when they were young, and they became close to their mother, and has only recently begun to renew ties with their father. Becknell has Tourette's syndrome, misdiagnosed early on as Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), leading to bad reactions to drugs and an unhappy year at Blessed Sacrament School. Later attending Wando High School, Becknell, who always sensed they were different, began experimenting with high heels and other forms of feminine attire, eliciting a range of both negative and positive reaction, the former from his family and the latter from a church youth group leader. Attending Trident Technical College, Becknell served as Vice President of Gay/Straight Alliance, which they helped found and later had both positive and negative experiences in a different work environments. Now working as a car-detailer, a job much enjoyed, Becknell discusses being out, "blending in," and also moving into "survival mode." Becknell mentions attending some Charleston Area Transgender Support (CATS) meetings, notes being more attracted to women, describes the impact of certain albums and musicians on them, declares that "The binary must die," and speaks of their attraction to Norse Polytheism. They also muse on the rigidity of the older generation, both straight and gay, in viewing of sex and gender roles, mentioning a lesbian "takeover" of the Alliance for Full Acceptance (AFFA), making the organization more accepting. Becknell also discusses work with a number of therapists, and how a gender therapist has been most helpful.
Robert Arrington (pronouns: He/Him/His), Black reverend of the Unity Fellowship Church, the only affirming church for LGBTQ people of color in the Charleston, SC area, discusses his personal life, his spiritual growth, and troubles and issues with his church and the larger Charleston, SC community. A native of Harlem, NY, Arrington grew up in an abusive household and due to a misdiagnosis, was sent to schools for the mentally handicapped. "My childhood was just about survival," he notes. Being different, he was the subject of contempt by others and sought solace in religion and the church, where he was told he was gifted. After being sent to a rigorous all male Catholic School, and his father's murder in 1974, Arrington and his family moved to a rural area near Durham, NC, where he graduated high school. In college, he married a woman "to make everybody happy," but that did not work out, and, moving to Fayetteville, NC, he became involved in a party scene, contracted HIV and nearly died. Back in Durham, facing family issues, Arrington rejoined the church, started an AIDS ministry, and could not be ordained as a minister in the Missionary Baptist Church as a gay man but only as "a non-practicing homosexual." To preserve his integrity, he joined the Unity Fellowship Church movement, and had a congregation in Charlotte, NC. Arrington then gives a brief history of the denomination, noting how he moved to Rochester, NY before coming to Charleston in 2010 and setting up a Pentecostal type church service here. Arrington describes the growth and decline of his congregation, mentions an ex-husband, and speaks of the prejudice he has felt in Charleston directed against him as an African American, and specifically against him as a reverend in and out LGBTQ church. While loving the area, he comments on the resistance of "gatekeepers" to change, feeling that racism is "in the air." He comments favorably on many working to improve the LGBTQ and African American communities, but concludes that many with power and privilege are halting progress.
Lee Anne Leland (pronouns: She/Hers) now living in McClellanville, SC, tells her story of coming to terms with and exploring her identity as a self-identified gender-nonconforming, lesbian, transgender woman. Being raised as a boy in a family of five siblings, she grew up in a prominent, socially and religiously conservative Mount Pleasant family where she struggled to understand and come to terms with her identity facing the disapproval of many. She describes a continuing and confusing search for self-expression and the impact such words as “cross-dresser” and “transsexual” had on her and her search for community, until, with the help of friends, she found her transgender identity. She recounts how she dealt with coming out, her experience with depression, thoughts of suicide, dysphoria over her appearance, various work experiences, and self-acceptance as an adult. Through all of this, Leland discusses the love and support she has received from her wife, Cindy, and the role she has had as an activist. Leland continues as coordinator of the Charleston Area Transgender Support (CATS), a board member of We Are Family, and a speaker at public events such as Transgender Day of Remembrance. She discusses how she perceives that claiming and living her authentic existence, even walking down the street, can be an act of political activism. Leland stresses the need for conversations and political activism especially in the political climate of 2018. Additionally, Leland recounts experiences and histories of Charleston’s gay bars, specifically the Lion’s Head, and the King Street Garden and Gun Club. She also mentions White Point Garden as a cruising spot, the Spoleto Festival, and the impact that the transsexual Dawn Langley Hall Simmons had on the Charleston community.
Jayson Gulick (pronouns: He/They) speaks of the challenges and satisfactions of his growing up, discovering his gender and sexual truths, and embracing both trans masculine and androgynous identities. Born in Wheaton, IL, into a Catholic family that faced prejudice from the Protestant majority, he moved with his family to Charleston when he was in the fifth grade. Having discovered and defined himself as trans by searching out information on the internet, he delayed coming out, feeling that the move to the Lowcountry would provide an appropriate opportunity. Experiences in public school and Catholic school convinced him to delay the announcement, however; he told his family just as a friend in Catholic school was denouncing Gulick for posing as a male on social media. Accepted by his parents and one sister, and rejected by another who had become fundamentalist, Gulick was out and visible at Wando High School, getting support from some staff but not others. He describes an attempt by the school to censor a student interview on the topic, noting how he and others posted it on YouTube instead. Gulick then describes his experiences at the College of Charleston, speaking of his good fortune of having previously legally changed his name, thus not having to experience being called by his dead name, as happened to some of his peers. He describes clandestine meetings of other trans students on campus (called T-Time) and some of their unwillingness and fear to have their identities known. Noting how therapy, top surgery, and association with We Are Family have been extremely beneficial, Gulick describes his connection with androgyny, his dislike of sexual assumptions about him by others, and how affirming participation in Charleston Pride events has been. Torn between being a teacher and a guidance counselor, he has decided on the latter, to help spare others from having to undergo experiences similar to his. Since South Carolina does not offer specific gender and sexual protections, he regrets that he may have to go elsewhere to fulfill that profession. The interview ends on a positive note with Gulick commenting that people just a few years younger than he are accepting on a broad array of gender and sexuality issues.
In his second oral history, Michael Lott (pronouns: He/Him/His) adds some information to fill out his first interview. He speaks of an early closeted boyfriend from Goose Creek, SC who killed himself probably due to his homosexuality, tells of his medical training in Charleston, SC where he encountered homophobia, and in New York City where many of his peers and professors were gay. He mentions knowing AIDS activist and author Larry Kramer, noting how Kramer transposed real events into his play The Normal Heart; he also discusses his friendship and admiration for gay activist and scholar Vito Russo. He describes his participation with the Gay Men’s Health Crisis AIDS fund-raising parties at the Pines on Fire Island, recalls professors who helped him at the College of Charleston, speaks of student and fraternity life there, and mentions future College President Glenn McConnell, as well as his experience with friends and patients during the AIDS crisis in New York.
Cator Sparks (pronouns: he/him), white board president of LGBTQ youth organization We Are Family, discusses his life as a gay man and his volunteer and professional work. He describes growing up in a liberal family in Atlanta, Georgia, and his difficulties and successes in high school. Sparks attended the College of Charleston in the early 1990s and speaks of coming out in Charleston into an exciting and accepting environment, then detailing his experiences in the rave scene. Along with rave venues, he describes gay bars including Treehouse, A.C.'s, and The Arcade. He discusses his volunteer work with neighborhood associations in the Cannonborough-Elliotborough neighborhood in Charleston and Harlem in New York City. Sparks performed in drag in Atlanta as Spectra Gramm, one of his performances during the Olympics being televised in France, where he soon went to study abroad. Back in Atlanta, he enrolled in American College, finishing his degree in fashion marketing in London. It was there he discovered dandyism, and he speaks of his conversion to it from rave fashion, defining what dandyism means to him, the effect it had on his life, and how it can educate others. He emphasizes how he values working with LGBTQ youth and his experiences volunteering with the Harvey Milk High School in New York City and with We Are Family in Charleston. Sparks describes the impact the 2016 Presidential election had on him, prompting his social action and recaps his professional life, including a description of working in Jeffrey, a high-end New York shoe store started by Jeffrey Kalinksy of Charleston, his freelance writing and his future plans of becoming a life coach. Photograph credited to Carolina Knopf.
Eric Sullivan (Pronouns: He/Him/His) describes growing up Easton, Maryland, moving to Charleston, SC to attend the College of Charleston, his graduate school training in Los Angeles, CA and his work as an LGBTQ therapist. One of five siblings, Sullivan knew he was different at "a pretty young age," and had a sense that he was gay before fully understanding what that meant. He "never got any messages growing up?about ? what the LGBTQ community was," but did have access to television programs such as Will and Grace and Queer as Folk. Coming out first to a friend, and then to his mother, he came out in "a public declarative statement" as part of a high school group project studying conversion therapy, realizing he could not just remain "a neutral party." He had experienced some negative responses before coming out, but very little afterwards. Sullivan explains his decision to attend the College of Charleston where he had his "first glimpse into gay culture" at a gay straight alliance meeting and at the gay bar Patrick's, and later Pantheon, both of which he describes. He notes with satisfaction how LGBTQ visibility has increased on campus since his years in school and recounts how a chance encounter working as waiter led him to graduate school in Los Angeles in the first LGBTQ counseling program in the country. He worked with homeless LGBTQ youth, adapted to the life there, was licensed and eventually moved back to Charleston, where, after some trepidation, he opened a practice specifically targeting LGBTQ clients. Responding to queries from people throughout the state seeking his services, he developed a successful on-line video practice before the COVID 19 pandemic. The interview concludes with Sullivan discussing the impacts of isolation, religion, and the lack of visibility on South Carolina's LGBTQ community, as well as other mental health issues.
Karl Beckwith Smith (pronouns: He/Him) born in Saranac Lake, N.Y. in 1950, describes his early childhood in New York state and in Darien, Conn. as well as his relationship with his family, particularly his engineer father, whom he describes as a “man’s man,” and notable athlete, despite his father’s life-long struggle with diabetes. (At his death at age ninety, his father was reputed to be one of the world’s longest survivors and users of insulin.) Smith also discusses the eventual death of his mother and his time in St. Paul’s, a prestigious prep school in Concord, N.H., and his difficulties with classmates, whom he says knew he was gay before he himself knew. He speaks of how art provided an “escape” from many of the obstacles in his early life. He then delves into his time at Princeton University, where he studied art history and was one of the first students to paint for his thesis. While there, he lived for a few years in a commune-like setting with many others, including Lisa Halabey, eventually Queen Noor of Jordan. He makes mention of his mentor, the artist Esteban Vicente, and his exposure to other notable artists including Helen Frankenthaler. Smith recalls the date of April 1, 1972, when he met Hal Truesdale as one of the turning points of his life. He details the early years of their partnership, their travels in Europe and their “pioneering” loft living and entertaining extravagantly in lower Manhattan, where after giving up acting, Hal had his private hairdressing salon with prominent clients. Also discussed is the time they lived in Cold Springs, N.Y., their summer cottage at Loon Lake, Vt., and Smith’s very successful competitive sailing seasons in Newport, R.I. In 1984, Smith gave up other jobs to become an artist full-time, mostly painting furniture, interiors and mural. Returning to Truesdale’s birthplace of Columbia, S.C., to take care of his mother, the couple then moved to Charleston in 1992, where Beckwith painted murals for Charleston Place Hotel and a mural on André Michaux at the Charleston International Airport. After brief mentions of the AIDS crisis in NY and the Stonewall riot, Smith describes their settle life in Charleston. He and Truesdale were united in a civil union in 2000 in Vermont and married in 2013 in New York.
Steven Willard (pronouns: He/Him), a white yoga and meditation teacher in Charleston, SC, speaks about his life and changes seen in society and in the LGBTQ community over the years. With a father in Vietnam when he was born, Willard and his family moved to North Charleston, SC when he was six. It was "small town, USA," and Willard attended church and public schools, where, knowing he was different, he found a friend who was also gay. As a teen, he worked in a record store in a mall and found comfort in seeing people he could identify as LGBTQ even as he sought further "validation" in movies, books and on television. He describes how he and his friend, with false IDs, attended bars such as the Garden and Gun Club and the Arcade, and the impact it had on them. While distanced from his father, he had a fairly good relationship with his mother; yet being discovered as gay as he finished high school at eighteen in 1986, led to his removal from his home. He moved to New York City where he felt safe for the first time. Mentored by an older gay man, he worked in a variety of jobs. Growing up in SC, he had had no access to positive information about gay life or AIDS prevention, and throughout the interview, Willard marvels at his luck at surviving the death and devastation around him. He returned to Charleston in 1993, left periodically, but came back. He found it necessary to be closeted working for the Department of Motor Vehicles, and coming out, experienced prejudice and harassment. He stood up to this, however, noting, "I might have been a fag, but I wasn't a punk." An interest in yoga lead him to teaching, and in the 1990s and afterwards, he witnessed a change in the city triggered by the empowerment from surviving AIDS. He noticed more gender fluidity in younger people and in himself in such places as the Treehouse bar. He gives a vivid description of the celebrations that occurred in Charleston when marriage equality was achieved, unfortunately, very close to the time that the massacre at Emanuel AME Church occurred. Throughout, he speaks of the loss of honesty, and face-to-face communication that social dating apps have brought about and then mentions the loss of LGBTQ spaces in the city, specifically describing Dudley's as a gathering spot for bridal parties. He regrets the lack of political involvement on social issues, such as abortion, among younger people, yet also believes that being LGBTQ "just living our lives is a form of activism." In reply to how being LGBTQ has influenced his life, Willard responds that, if not challenged as a minority and faced with prejudice, he could have become complacent. "Like women, people of color, LGBT, we all have to realize that we ?re in those cross hairs of these straight white Christian dudes, and we all have to fight together."
DeLesslin George-Warren (pronouns: He/Him/They/Theirs) speaks of his life as a queer member of the Catawba Indian Nation and his work for social justice, through both direct action and performance art. The son of a white father, who worked in health care and later became a private consultant, and a Catawba mother, an attorney working with the tribe for federal recognition, he was called "Roo" from childhood on. Growing up in Rock Hill, SC, he felt a "dual consciousness" attending a conservative Christian school while being part of a very liberal family in which he was expected to find his own truths. He started volunteering at the cultural center on the Reservation in high school, but did not reclaim his Catawba heritage or come out as a gay man until he attended college, eventually realizing that? "liberation as a queer person is tied to the liberation of my community." At Vanderbilt University, he pursued musical studies and also worked to establish gender-neutral bathrooms on campus. From 2014 to 2017, in AmeriCorps, he lived in Washington, DC. In museums there, as a guide and cultural interpreter, he often took patrons by surprise, sometimes making them angry, when he gave more nuanced and truthful version of American history as it involved indigenous people; being pale and blue-eyed, he defies cultural stereotypes. With a grant from Running Strong for American Indian Youth, he returned to the Catawba Reservation in 2017 and became involved in projects reviving the Catawba language and focusing on food sustainability. In the interview, George-Warren speaks of being accepted in the Catawba community as a gay man, despite its affiliation with the? Church of the Latter Day Saints; describes the "briar patch" nature of Catawba family relationships; notes the historical matriarchy of the tribe; sums up the impact of the loss of federal tribal recognition and then regaining it; mentions a "strain of queerness" in Catawba history; and discusses his identity. He recalls a PRIDE march in Washington, DC, wherein he and others protested the sponsorship of corporations, some involved in actions on Indian lands; and expresses gratitude for being born queer, beyond the norm, to free himself from society's expectations. It's "liberating to be Catawba and also be queer," he believes. He perceives a need for solidarity in the LGBTQ community and notes, "I've seen more anti-Native sentiment in LGBT spaces than I have seen explicit anti-LGBT sentiment in my Catawba community."??
Kristen Lowe (pronouns: She/Her/Hers) was born in Florence, South Carolina, and currently resides in Charleston with her partner, and works professionally as a hand therapist in a sports medicine practice. She discusses growing up in the small-town atmosphere of Florence, and the impacts of her largely conservative and Southern Baptist religious upbringing. She recalls happy childhood memories with her parents and two younger brothers, including spending summers on the lake. Attending a private Baptist high school, she was unaware of her identity and saw no LGBTQ role models anywhere, having her first experience at age twenty. A graduate of the College of Charleston and later the Medical University of South Carolina (MUSC), she hid her sexual identity at the former institution, afraid of being labelled if she attended Gay Straight Alliance meetings, but at MUSC, she eventually served as Vice President of the Alliance for Equality. Lowe describes the difficulty of arriving at self-acceptance, feeling solitary, and at first being fearful of going to church and educational figures, or even close friends for advice. Becoming more and more open, she searched for a place within the LGBTQ community, finding fulfillment and social acceptance in becoming a board member of Alliance for Full Acceptance (AFFA). She details the advocacy work AFFA does, achieving, just at the time of the interview, a victory in Mount Pleasant, South Carolina in its passing a non-discrimination ordinance. Being out has given her a freedom to do as she wants, dress as she wants and she also has a variety of reproductive options available to her and her partner, as well. Any harassments received for being perceived as a lesbian were minor, she notes. In answer to queries about the issues facing the LGBTQ community today, she reflects on the number of different identities within it, and although there is much more visibility currently, she reiterates the difficulty of coming out, recalling how she at first had to do it via letters to her parents. If it takes an individual years to come to terms with her identity, she reasons, family members should be given time to adapt as well. She also explains how naturally children will take to the idea of LGBTQ relations among adults since children come into the world unprejudiced and will remain so if their society will allow it.
Mark Gray (pronouns: He/His), white chocolatier and AIDS activist, in this third of three interviews (with transcripts of earlier ones available in the repository), discusses the changes in his life as he moved from West Virginia to Charleston, SC, where, in a "turning point," he worked on the "front line" of AIDS activism. Having grown up in Virginia, attending gay bars in Roanoke in an era when there were still raids, he became a renown chocolatier at the Greenbrier Hotel. He trained from 1977-1979 and then worked there for five years. He led a "charmed life" at this prestigious hotel where US Presidents came and the Iranian hostages were housed after their 1981 release. His friends included a gay speechwriter for President Ronald Reagan, and the White House Executive Chef Walter Scheib. He speaks of the parties he threw, the relationships he had, and the start of the AIDS crisis. Moving to Charleston in 1984, Gray eventually established Cacao, a chocolate shop on King Street. He lived a completely out life in Charleston where he found people open, friendly and non-judgmental, recalls eccentric friends like Witsell Neyle and Mary Alston Ruff, mentions how African Americans attended the women's bar D?j? Vu, and contrasts the small town atmosphere and the beginning of the food and restaurant scene to later changes. Being an openly gay merchant started rumors and brought many to his shop including two gay youths seeking positive role models ? Joel Derfner, who later wrote books on LGBTQ topics and "Baby" Thomas Myers whose father founded We Are Family, an organization for LGBTQ youth. Distressed by the death of so many "boys" from AIDS, Gray helped found Helping Hands, a grass roots organization of volunteers who banded together to help people with AIDS, a disease that provoked such fear that he had to paper his store windows to shield those attending a fund-raiser there. He traces the creation of Palmetto AIDS Life Support Services (PALSS), and his growing involvement, noting how he learned to become an advocate "and that I do have a voice." He became trained in HIV testing and counseling, became the head of the volunteer program of PALSS, later Lowcountry AIDS Services, creating the nutritional program and a food bank. As he closed his retail store and concentrated on baking, and his business partner started St. John's Caf?, a gay friendly restaurant on John's Island (later The Fat Hen), Gray realized his work with HIV and advocacy "had become everything I was." This took a toll on his life and his relationships, which therapy helped resolve. Speaking on the current state of affairs, he says he is happy that HIV has become a manageable disease but is alarmed that people are still becoming infected, and regrets the fact that many younger than he are ignorant of this and other parts of LGBTQ history. He finds the community much more fragmented, assimilated and divided by class than what he experienced, yet ends on a positive note of his personal philosophy to "celebrate life."
Chase Glenn (pronouns: He/Him/His), white executive director of the Alliance for Full Acceptance (AFFA), speaks about himself and his family, his life impacted by a growing awareness of the LGBTQ community and its issues, his transition, and his professional development that took him from church work to his current position. Growing up in Mt. Vernon, IL, an insular, small and rural community into a loving and giving Southern Baptist family, Glenn was "pretty naive to the world growing up." While he "felt like the other," he "didn't have the words or the real understanding" of his identity. In a world where "heterosexual sex was bad, then gay sex was not just not on the table at all," he did not have a frame of reference or knowledge about gay or trans people. Not until attending Belmont University in Nashville, TN did Glenn know gay people and there it was a shock to be told that women could never be ministers in the Southern Baptist denomination, despite Glenn's life-long "call" to the ministry. Never "feeling fully a girl," Glenn began a relationship with another woman, that being the "path of least resistance" and worked in churches. When outed as a lesbian at work in a church in Florida, Glenn was given the option to stop living that way or be fired. That prompted a 2006 move to Charleston, SC, where Glenn maintained a relationship with a lesbian, was married, came out successfully to his family, and worked for the Mt. Pleasant Presbyterian Church. After seven years he began to work for Blackbaud, and his awareness grew as to his true identity. His relationship ended; he discusses some of the lesbian and other bars in Charleston he attended, as he openly pursued his transition, sharing it online and on his dating profiles. He met a woman whom he married and now the couple has a son through invitro fertilization. Glenn discusses his fears of being an appropriate father and recalls his growing involvement in the LGBTQ community, doing the design and layout for the first Pride programs, serving on its board, that of AFFA, and working for SC Equality and the Trans Action Committee. Having gotten a master's degree in counseling and experiencing again the call to advocate for, and work with, people, Glenn, after discussions with his wife, left the safety of his corporate job to become the director of the non-profit AFFA. He describes the directions in which he took the organization, details the complexities of the community needs assessment survey AFFA and its partners undertook, discusses some of the results, talks about how race and racism affect the community and how society affords him "white male straight privilege" because of his appearance.
TZiPi Radondsky (pronouns: She/Her) speaks of her life and its many changes, her search for spiritual enlightenment and her work for a better world. Born into an "ortho-conservative" Jewish family in Boston, she grew up committed to Judaism, but cut herself off from it as a young woman. She attended college, got pregnant, married, and had two daughters. Her husband, a Catholic who converted to Judaism, joined her father in the women's sportswear business. When unionization prompted the transfer of the business to South Carolina, the family moved to Aiken, SC. She divorced, and began a friendship with a woman in Aiken, soon realizing it was love. She and her new partner were part of a closeted group of women in the area, and Radonsky felt frustrated that no one aided her in her pursuit to understand her evolving self. She attended a gay bar in Augusta, GA, began taking courses and was bat mitzvahed as an adult in Aiken. She "wasn't butch enough to be considered lesbian" and differed from most of her friends in having had children. Moving to Gainesville, FL, was "just like I walked into heaven," she notes. It was a liberating experience as she received a master's degree in occupational therapy, ran a women's bookstore and center, and lived in a women's only community. She then moved to Charleston, SC to work from 1984 to 1987 at the Medical University of South Carolina, where again, she found the community closeted. In Greensboro, NC, where she went to complete her PhD, she found a much more open community, wrote her dissertation on lesbians coming out, became a counselor, and began to reconnect with Judaism as she explored other spiritual avenues. A retreat in Taos, NM, prompted her to travel the world through the Servas International Program. As an out lesbian, she had positive, negative and neutral experiences. Mentioning Wicca, Gaia, and Native American religious traditions, Radonsky was ordained as a Rabbi in the Renewal Judaism movement by Mordechai Gafni, a charismatic leader who later lost his position due to claims of sexual misconduct. To take care of her aging parents, Radonsky moved to West Palm Beach, FL, despite her recovered memory of sexual abuse by her father. There she became friends with the early lesbian rights activists Connie Kurtz and Ruthie Berman. After her parents' death, Radonsky relocated to Beaufort, SC, to be near one of her daughters. She speaks of the conservative nature of the area, her work with the Unitarian Universalist Church, the lack of acceptance of her rabbinical degree by the Jewish community and her outspoken support of many causes and issues. She mentions marching with a daughter in Columbia, SC (at the first Pride March), and with her other daughter in Greensboro, NC; her two long-term relationships; and events she helped organize, including a Beaufort gathering to mark the shooting at the Pulse Nightclub and the first Pride March held in Bluffton, SC. She closes by noting that the LGBTQ community has much to offer society at large, and she will continue dedicating her life to total inclusivity.????
Samuel Cooper (pronouns: He/His) discusses his upbringing, life history and beliefs, focusing often on the topic of being a gay African American man of faith. When his father, minister of Centenary Methodist Church, Charleston, SC, joined the military to become a chaplain, Cooper and his family began a peripatetic life that took them to various bases in this country and in Germany. Knowing early he was gay, seeing his homosexuality as a "gift," Cooper nevertheless suppressed it, eventually coming out to his family who accepted him, partially, he believes, due to his father having had counseled many LGBTQ men and women in the military. He notes both the benefits and liabilities of being Black and of being gay and describes an episode of crisis at Clemson University. A homophobic comment by a member of the Fellowship of Christian Athletes prompted him to leave that group, come out, join, and become an officer of Clemson's LGBTQ organization, the Lambda Society. He faced near dismissal from Mercer University's Walter F. George School of Law for being an advocate of LGBTQ visibility, and later in the interview he discusses the impacts racial prejudice, both Black and white, and homophobia, can have on clients he represents as a personal injury attorney. In his return to South Carolina working briefly in the Fourth Circuit Solicitor's office, he traveled the state; Cooper, throughout the interview, gives many details of various bars in Columbia, Myrtle Beach and Charleston, describing their appearance and layout and the groups attending them. Once relocated permanently to Charleston, SC, he attended the Metropolitan Community Church and its off shoot, Open Door. He discusses his relationship with his husband, Stavely Edgar, recounts some failed homophobic attacks against him, and notes little or no pushback against Edgar and himself as an interracial couple. He speaks of his religious faith, the Black church, his opinion of historically black colleges possibly limiting experiences for their students, and the threats menacing minorities and democracy due to the presidency of Donald J. Trump.
Melissa Moore (pronouns: They/Them) discusses their personal life and the various roles they played in numerous social causes and organizations, many being LGBTQ related. Born in Mt. Pleasant, SC, they identified as male, and, denied that self-expression, Moore details the impact it had on their school years and the numbing escape made possible by drugs and alcohol. In passing Moore also describes a run-in with religious demands at Vacation Bible School, and being exposed to, and fascinated by, female impersonators at an early age. At the College of Charleston, Moore joined such groups as the Gay and Lesbian Alliance, and the Women’s Forum, engaging intellectually and socially with new people and ideas. Coming to see that societal norms aid in controlling conformity and denying diversity, Moore was strongly affected by a billboard supporting LGBTQ rights put up by the Alliance for Full Acceptance (AFFA). That prompted them to begin volunteering, and eventually working, for AFFA under the direction of Warren Redman-Gress. Moore later went on to work with Linda Ketner and SC Equality to attempt to defeat the movement within the state of South Carolina to define marriage as between a man and a woman. That was unsuccessful. In the process, Moore came into contact with other organizations such as Southerners on New Ground and worked with activists including Mandy Carter and others, creating opportunities to learn grass root organizing skills and to work with groups like Africa House in Orangeburg, SC. Moore notes the reluctance or refusal of national and other LGBTQ organizations to fund work in the South, assuming it “unwinnable” and also speaks to the lack of funding for social service agencies in lieu of political ones. Working with the Abortion Access Project, later called Provide, gave Moore further experience and they eventually became director of We Are Family, an organization in Charleston for LGBTQ youth. Moore details how under their management and planning the organization and its programs grew. They describe the plan to fund the organization through the creation of a thrift store and Moore notes how three LGBTQ organizations in town, Charleston Pride, AFFA and We Are Family recently moved to the same building in North Charleston. After touching on subjects like transphobia, the new management of We Are Family, and naming many people in the field they admire, Moore finishes the interview describing their new position with the city of Mount Pleasant, working on sustainable and equitable city planning.
Jamie Nadeau (pronouns: She/Her/Hers) describes her journey to self-realization as a lesbian trans woman and a successful business owner of a hand-press greeting card printing company in Charleston, South Carolina. Born in Nashville, Tennessee into a religious Church of Christ family, Nadeau attended religious schools. Her father, a member of the Potawatomi Nation, and her mother divorced when she was young, and she speaks of trying to reclaim and learn more about her native American heritage. Born intersex, Nadeau retains early childhood hospital memories and speaks of her conservative upbringing where LGBTQ people were seen as “cultural oddities” and trans people were thought “horrific monsters.” Trying to imagine herself as a lesbian in that conservative environment “broke my brain,” and she had to go through the “impostor syndrome” before claiming and becoming comfortable as her true self. Embracing technology and computers long before they were commonplace, she was a young hacker and researched gender identities in cyberspace when others perhaps were still using libraries. She attended Middle Tennessee State University for a year, where and when she first began to explore her identity; she then studied at, and received her degree from, the Savannah College of Art and Design. After her mother’s death, Nadeau vowed she would never wear men’s clothes again and began seeing a gender therapist. She quickly began sharing her status with friends, family and her wife Allison, meeting wholehearted support from the latter, and a variety of responses from others. Nadeau speaks to the various levels of acceptance from the religious community, and from her biological and chosen families. She speaks at length of her experiences in coming out, noting how “soul crushing” being “misgendered” in public can be, and praises the Charleston trans women’s community for being so accepting and supportive, affirming the importance of support groups and loyal friends. Nadeau also describes how she and her wife, Allison, friends since childhood, followed their fascination with printing and design and left their professions to become proprietors of their greeting card company, Ink Meets Paper. There is a brief discussion focusing on Charleston being a safer space for LGBTQ people than other areas of the Deep South, and in response to the interviewer, Nadeau suggest that LGBTQ people should not necessarily focus on otherness, but see the world as she does, a place of countless, diverse narratives, where people are to be encouraged for finding their own way and lauded for their strength in “occupying space” in a world of proscriptions and possiblities.
Richard Little (pronouns: He/Him/His) describes his youth and education, his founding and running a gay bar in Charleston, South Carolina, attending medical school, and his professional work as a senior investigator at the National Cancer Institute, part of the National Institute of Health. Born in Union, South Carolina, he attended Christ School, a private boarding school in Asheville, North Carolina, where he impacted student programming and where a research project of his prompted the state to take action on water pollution in Pisgah National Forest. After some experimentation in high school, Little came out as gay while attending Tulane University in New Orleans. After a brief stint in graduate school, Little moved to Charleston, where in 1979 he opened a gay bar, Les Jardins, more commonly called LJ’s, in the then-desolate Market area. Little describes some of the other gay bars in town and notes that his private club offered a place for both out and closeted LGBTQ patrons. State liquor laws mandated the necessity of incorporating as an eleemosynary institution, and LJ’s became a major supporter of the Spoleto Festival, gaining praise for the club and the gay community from Mayor Joseph P. Riley, Jr. and others. He describes the evolution and growth of the club, its parties, programs and members, speaks of the Alcohol Beverage Commission’s anti-gay harassment, describes a court case regarding that, and mentions speaking to the Charleston Police Department about its harassment of gay men at the Battery, a cruising spot in Charleston. In 1984, opting not to franchise, but to close, the club, Little decided to attend medical school. He faced anti-gay bias at the Medical University of South Carolina (MUSC) in Charleston but found a welcome at the University of South Carolina Medical School in Columbia. Little was elected President of the American Medical Student Association and in a public venue confronted South Carolina Attorney General Henry McMaster for his homophobic comments, instead of addressing the topic of infant mortality. He speaks of early poor care of HIV patients in Columbia, a situation he tried to remedy and how “the good old girls’ network” brought him to the National Cancer Institute where he became head of the AIDS oncology center. In his work of almost thirty years, he has had patients he knew from LJ’s and from his hometown, and he mentions how difficult it has been to deal with so many losses over the years. But changes in HIV care, and changes at MUSC in Charleston, are signs of progress and the interview ends on a hopeful note.
Jack Sewell (pronouns: He/Him) speaks mostly of his life in Charleston, the various businesses in which he was engaged, and gay life, characters, and bars in the city. Born as a twin in Oklahoma, he grew up in Texas, was raised in a conservative Southern Baptist household and joined the Navy, which brought him to Charleston in 1966. While mostly closeted, to stay in the service, Sewell nevertheless visited many gay clubs, despite their being banned by the Shore Patrol, and he mentions the Navy investigating sailors for homosexual activities. In reply to questions, he names and describes many of the bars in town including The Wagon Wheel, The Ocean Bar and Grill, Pat's Lounge, the Stardust Lounge, the Bat Room, and "the Tiltin' Hilton" on Folly Beach, among others, including a gay bar he and his partner tried to open on Market Street, but which failed due to the curfew imposed by martial law during the 1969 Hospital Worker's strike. He also describes homophobia, vice squad raids, pay offs, cruising on the Battery and makes mention of the YMCA and bus station and other bathrooms. Out of the Navy, he first had odd jobs, including working as a debt collector, which led to visiting Dawn Langley Simmons. He and his partner began working as carpenters, building cabinetry for many businesses, bringing them in contact with many Jewish merchants and building owners whom he describes. The couple first opened "head" shops named A Different World, catering to a hippy clientele, in Charleston and Orangeburg and later opened a series of restaurants called The Hungry Lion in a variety of locations in the city, with the main location being near the College of Charleston on George Street. Sewell, who eventually bought out his partner, worked long days, often as the chief cook, as well doing numerous other tasks, eventually commuting from McClellanville, SC to where he retired in 2014. In the course of the interview he mentions? the Davis building, site of the Hungry Lion and the owners, a Jewish family in London, Jules Garvin, Bobby Tucker, Clifton Harris, Jr., whose murder on the Battery in 2006 is still unsolved, Joe Trott and other colorful gay characters. He also explains the coded vocabulary he and his friends used, mentions later bars such as the Garden and Gun Club, Les Jardins, and working at the Arcade Club and the restaurant Spanky's associated with it. He ends speaking of life in McClellanville and the man who means so much to him, Dewey Williams, a partner of 39 years, whom he married at the Lincoln Memorial in 2010.?
Emily Anne Boyter (pronouns: She/Hers) discusses her life as the daughter of missionaries, her religious upbringing and experiences with religion, coming out as a lesbian, reconciling “Christianity and queerness,” and many positive new experiences opening to her. She describes being born in Greenville, South Carolina, and being raised in Mexico City where her parents worked as Evangelical Christian missionaries, spending brief periods in the states. She left Mexico and attended college at, and graduated from, Liberty University, a private evangelical Christian university in Lynchburg, Virginia. There, the strongly insular quality she experienced in the missionary world, continued, and many felt a great loyalty to the school and its President, Jerry Falwell, Jr. Identifying as straight during her time there, she nevertheless was aware of a “strong culture of homophobia at Liberty,” where close friendships could lead to questions about one’s sexuality and where being gay could lead to expulsion. In graduate school at Clemson University, Boyter began to meet, and form friendships with LGBTQ people, feeling on “friendly ground” for the first time in her life, among people who were unbothered by another’s sexual orientation or identity. Being in this open and accepting environment, Boyter began to come to terms with being “queer,” a word she embraces for its inclusiveness. Coming out in her religious community at Clemson was not a positive experience, so she eventually left her church. In the interview, she wonders if others would see her as a “Christian” at all, she having now found comfort in a feminine spirituality versus the strong paternalistic nature of many churches and religions. She recalls how many men in her religious milieu would weigh her (and other women’s) characteristics and traits, to determine if they would make good wives of ministers. After coming out to her family and on social media, finding support from some, but dismay and rejection from others, including a man who had been viewing her as a possible wife, Boyter is now in a committed relationship with another woman and they are considering marriage. Despite the difficulties faced by LGBTQ people in the upstate region where they live, Boyter, a resident of Easley, and her girlfriend feel rooted in the area, yet she expresses some misgivings at the possibility of raising children there. Her work at the Tri-County Technical College is rewarding; being “out,” she can serve as a mentor and a role model for LGBTQ students and others.
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