In the mid-2000s, I was a teen, had a stacked bob that I spiked to look like Brody Armstrong of The Distillers, listened to Frank Zappa’s entire discography on repeat, and generally didn't talk to anyone.
As someone who grew up in the rural Midwest, this really resonated, though I didn’t have access to things like organic food, fellow queer people, or a local covert GSA — I was a little envious reading about those! I think the Midwest is having a little pinkwashing moment with Tim Walz getting national attention. The rural areas have way more in common with Appalachia and the South than anywhere else.
I’m one of those people who ran away to a major East Coast city, and I feel guilty about it. I loved the land, though I learned in college it was never truly mine when I learned about land back. I loved my family, even when they didn’t reciprocate. I just couldn’t survive there. Maybe if I’d had queer friends or queer neighbors whose signals I could interpret, things would have been different. It makes me sad to hear that rural queers largely don’t have a presence online, though I must also be complicit in not even trying to seek that out. The book that took queer rurality the most seriously to me was Samantha Allen’s Real Queer America, and even that had stops in larger towns than the one I grew up in.
I really need to pick up Allen's book. thanks so much for your comment, I agree with all that you've said, so much about regionalism breaks down when we simply look at population concentration.
"I loved my family, even when they didn't reciprocate. I just couldn't survive there." this is what's missing from what I wrote, that there's a lack of belonging that's inflicted on queer folks in the rural US. I think there's a strong narrative that we all *choose* to leave, but I think it's closer to the truth that we *have* to leave.
your writing is so incredibly beautiful. some of my favorite lines from you:
"there was nothing to do in my small town but try to press on death until it gave"
"Being gay had no place to become concrete - it was always waiting somewhere at the corner."
"Of course I know it will hurt in ways they're not ready for."
"They're not ready to forget what it feels like to take and claim the possibility that we might one day be loved, here, in this place, in our homes and no other, no longer wandering."
i wonder if you've heard of grendel menz? i think their poetry might resonate with you.
this makes me so happy to hear you say this 🥹 I’ve been writing essays on this blog just to try out the format but am a poet by training, I haven’t heard of Grendel but will def check them out!! thank you for reading!!
As someone who grew up in the rural Midwest, this really resonated, though I didn’t have access to things like organic food, fellow queer people, or a local covert GSA — I was a little envious reading about those! I think the Midwest is having a little pinkwashing moment with Tim Walz getting national attention. The rural areas have way more in common with Appalachia and the South than anywhere else.
I’m one of those people who ran away to a major East Coast city, and I feel guilty about it. I loved the land, though I learned in college it was never truly mine when I learned about land back. I loved my family, even when they didn’t reciprocate. I just couldn’t survive there. Maybe if I’d had queer friends or queer neighbors whose signals I could interpret, things would have been different. It makes me sad to hear that rural queers largely don’t have a presence online, though I must also be complicit in not even trying to seek that out. The book that took queer rurality the most seriously to me was Samantha Allen’s Real Queer America, and even that had stops in larger towns than the one I grew up in.
Thanks for writing this. It’s great.
I really need to pick up Allen's book. thanks so much for your comment, I agree with all that you've said, so much about regionalism breaks down when we simply look at population concentration.
"I loved my family, even when they didn't reciprocate. I just couldn't survive there." this is what's missing from what I wrote, that there's a lack of belonging that's inflicted on queer folks in the rural US. I think there's a strong narrative that we all *choose* to leave, but I think it's closer to the truth that we *have* to leave.
your writing is so incredibly beautiful. some of my favorite lines from you:
"there was nothing to do in my small town but try to press on death until it gave"
"Being gay had no place to become concrete - it was always waiting somewhere at the corner."
"Of course I know it will hurt in ways they're not ready for."
"They're not ready to forget what it feels like to take and claim the possibility that we might one day be loved, here, in this place, in our homes and no other, no longer wandering."
i wonder if you've heard of grendel menz? i think their poetry might resonate with you.
this makes me so happy to hear you say this 🥹 I’ve been writing essays on this blog just to try out the format but am a poet by training, I haven’t heard of Grendel but will def check them out!! thank you for reading!!
I joined for the same reason, pretty much! I'd love to read your poetry, too, if you ever decide to share here or elsewhere :)