March for Queer Liberation Now: A Chat with Q.O.W.S. Members
As June comes to an end, so do the countless rainbow logos on mass corporations' products. This is a recurring act for many businesses as their way to "stand with" queer and trans individuals during pride season and make themselves present at celebratory pride events, but are they actually putting in the work to bring queer and trans community members together?
Held on the anniversary of the Stonewall Riots of 1969 this past summer, Queer Liberation Now, a March for Black Lives event organized by the Long Beach-based activist group Q.O.W.S. (Queers Obliterating White Supremacy) and B.L.M. of Long Beach will draw many to Bixby Park in Long Beach, CA on Sunday, June 27th. The protest and march were ignited as a response to the growing movement and uprising that continues to bring attention to the racial injustices and systematic oppression of Black communities.
However, the members of Q.O.W.S. have been working to radicalize queer spaces and create comradery with queer and trans individuals that amplify their voices. Unfortunately, in terms of major pride events, such as LA Pride, most events tend to be organized with law enforcement. The issue with this type of correlation is that queer and trans communities have long histories of being targeted by police. This Sunday on June 27, Q.O.W.S. plans to continue their efforts in creating an alternative to pride that stands with Black and Brown trans community members, doesn't delegitimate sex work, doesn't exclude kink communities from their events, doesn't collaborate with law enforcement, and doesn't endorse rainbow capitalism which has proven that corporations are willing to do the bare minimum to support and protect queer and trans communities.
We spoke with the members of Q.O.W.S. and asked each of them about their intentions and driving points to protest this year. We also asked about why they feel it's essential to be physically present in protests, the first time they felt liberated and what queer liberation means to them.
Byron Adams (He/Him/His)
As a way for each of you to better frame your narratives I want to ask your name, your preferred pronouns, your role in Q.O.W.S. and how you got involved?
I got involved with Q.O.W.S, as one of the first folks who wanted to put it together. So last year, during the Black Lives Matter movement, appraising and being a part of that and watching LA pride work with cops, a few of us on a little bit more of a radical mindset decided to organize something here in Long Beach. It was about six of us originally, who put on some thinking caps and decided to do something and see what that could look like. Right now I’m working with outreach and social media and the program planning committee.
In terms of organizing this year's event, what were your main driving points to protest?
It’s continuing the conversation continuing with the movement to do the work because the work doesn’t stop. It’s that same driving force. The year has been so heavy, and it’s been hard for so many people, as things open up there’s also this shift in energy as well. We’re also wanting to, even the way we did last year, continue to bring joy into queerness and acknowledge the traumas of our experiences within the community specifically for Black and Brown trans women because people are still dying, people are still getting murdered, people are still getting arrested.
If anything, there’s still this continuation of eggshell-ness in terms of what has happened in the last year. Like, what really has changed? Yes, there’s been a conversation but what does that actually look like? So, it’s still trying to maintain the conversation and really be like, okay, the world had this conversation last year, let’s not stop the conversation. Because if we stop the conversation, then things are just gonna go back and nothing’s going to change and everything that happened last year is going to be pointless, which is terrifying.
In terms of forms of activism, we live in an era where people could post, re-share, start petitions, or donate money as a way to combat oppressive systems and support communities and individuals who are systematically targeted. As opposed to online activism, why do you feel it’s important to physically be present in acts of protest?
I think that there is this online activism, and it's cool, it's good, it's important, but at the same time, it could be performative. It's just so easy to just be like, let me reshare this, let me talk about this but what are the actions that people are doing? Taking up space, and protesting is a physical action that people can do that is slightly more than, you know, sharing or resharing something online.
Of course, it's not the only thing because people aren't always comfortable being outside in a protest, because it's not always safe. But it's a part of the wheelhouse of action and work that goes into activism. Like, we're organizing this event, but there are people who are organizing, who aren't going to be at the actual event, but they're still doing the work. And protesting is really important, because it shows people, whether it's the neighbor, or a random family in the park, that there's an oppressed group of people who really want to change the system and want to dismantle the system. Maybe their child is going to be like, what's going on? That could create a conversation for the parent.
What does queer liberation mean to you and do you remember the first time you felt liberated?
I feel like queer liberation is a constant fight for complete autonomy for queer people. And, in my mind, I don't know what it looks like, because we haven't achieved it yet. It just feels like a romanticized ideal of just being able to exist, period. It means no fear of walking in the street, with having queer spaces and not having them be commodified without it just being. So for me, queer liberation is constantly fighting for that.
That might be a slightly jade and pessimistic look at it. But it feels beautiful to strive for something that I may never see in my lifetime. The way I live in my queerness is something that, you know, our queer ancestors never imagined for us. I know that whatever my life looks like, probably looks like liberation to them and I do feel excited to be able to be in the streets and to be an out person in the world. Though sometimes it's terrifying, because you never know what can happen, especially within the last few years of the consistency of violence perpetuated onto our bodies and violence perpetuated through capitalism about who we are in our identity.
I think in terms of the first time I felt liberated, I feel like it's in moments. One of the moments that came to my mind was, I work in a library, so I work with kids and teens, specifically. I’ll always remember this 7-10 year old kid who came up to me and she would come in every day. One day, she came up to me, she's like, “Are you married, Mr. Byron?” And I was like, “no.” And then she was like, “Do you have a girlfriend?” And I was like, “No”. And then she's like, “Do you have a boyfriend?” And I was like, “No.” And then she's like, “But you like boys.” And I was like, “I like guys, yes.” And then she's like, “Okay,” and walked away and did not care at all. The moment I just saw her fully accept me I was like, that's what liberation feels like, that one moment.
Mikaela Ferrell (He/Him/She/Her)
As a way for each of you to better frame your narratives I want to ask your names, your preferred pronouns, your role in Q.O.W.S., and how you got involved?
I went to that lovely event that Byron and other folks were lovely enough to organize last year. I had just gotten done doing a lot of intense organizing with an LA-based org and I was looking for something more local and more grassroots. So when Q.O.W.S put out something basically saying, “Hey, we're like a baby org, does anybody want to join?” I was like, “Hell yes!” I'm glad to just be in Q.O.W.S in any capacity at all because it really is awesome.
In terms of organizing this year's event, what were your main driving points to protest?
I think when we discuss any major change, it's really important to also highlight the joy and the opportunities to get Black, trans, undocumented, and disabled people space, to flourish, and to have opportunities to get joy. Because, when every day is a battle, and you are facing hardship, after hardship, it becomes more and more difficult to get back up and wake up and do it another day. And it is very easy to get lost in how abundant the tragedy is. So I think having that duality of holding space for what is going on and continuing to put in the work and celebrating queer joy and Black joy is really important. I feel like that's a really main point as to why we've organized the event for this year.
In terms of forms of activism, we live in an era where people could post, re-share, start petitions, or donate money as a way to combat oppressive systems and support communities and individuals who are systematically targeted. As opposed to online activism, why do you feel it’s important to physically be present in acts of protest?
I think that what a lot of people still fail to recognize is that representation and visibility are weaponized against marginalized communities. When we talk about things like queer liberation, trans liberation and Black liberation, the narrative often that gets put forth is we need more representation. We need more people on TV, meaning more people in ads. We need more people in government. The reality is that when you are highlighting somebody's existence, you are making it that much more difficult for them to operate on an everyday level. When we go and have these events, I feel like, in a way, it's giving us the opportunity to have that moment of visibility while also having a sense of unity and safety as a community.
Because at the end of the day, granted, I super appreciate all the work that people do online. But it can be very performative. Because now, with everything that's going on in social media and the overflowing aspect of all the information that's put forth, it is just like, "Well, I reposted somebody's Go Fund Me, so I did my good deed for the day." There's not any major push. When we're able to come together and do things in person. I mean, powers and numbers, who doesn't love just being surrounded by a group of their peers, a group of their family?
What does queer liberation mean to you and do you remember the first time you felt liberated?
I’ve grown up with a lot of queerness in my immediate family and in my extended family. I think seeing the differences in generational reactions to queerness definitely contributed to me being afraid to be open with being gay, and especially with being trans. But when I got involved in sex worker activism two or three years ago, all the people that I was around were these badass queer femme sex workers. All of them made names for themselves and made careers and all of them have families and have very lucrative standings in their communities. I looked at that, and I use that as a point of reference.
When I finally came to terms with the fact that I was trans, it was a lot easier for me, knowing that this wasn't the end-all-be-all for me. My identity didn't just have to be what made me me. And getting involved with Q.O.W.S just solidified the fact that being queer is really where it's at. What does liberation mean to me…I'm gonna be honest, liberation just means that anybody who's anybody is flourishing, is living their life without limitations, gets to make their own choices, has their own sense of autonomy, and nothing holds them back.
James Suazo (He/Him/His)
As a way for each of you to better frame your narratives I want to ask your name, your preferred pronouns, your role in Q.O.W.S., and how you got involved?
I am also a part of the outreach and social media team. I actually can't remember why I missed the action last year, but I've known a bunch of folks in Q.O.W.S. for a while and organized in different ways. I'm originally from Santa Ana and have been organizing there and then out here in the South Bay Area and Long Beach, Since 2008 or so.
I'd done a lot of labor organizing and some working organizing, but it wasn't until maybe five years ago that I got into socialist organizing. And that was cool, like a bunch of lefty folks, but then finding queer folks and organizing in queer spaces, I really felt like, “Oh, this is my jam." This is what I enjoy. So, I think the whole vision and community that we're building is what really attracts me to the group. It's a lot of fun. We're in this moment where people are looking for belonging and connection, especially after a fucking global pandemic.
In terms of organizing this year's event, what were your main driving points to protest?
We all talked about, like, why we got involved in Q.O.W.S. and building that movement, and part of it is also getting involved in these local efforts, right. And I mean, thinking about, even where Long Beach was, last year compared to now, right, the most public pride thing that just happened was replacing the lifeguard tower that had burned down right on the beach, which is like, is that the extent of our city's pride? While we are now detaining children at our own Convention Center? The police have not been defunded, right? There's been no actual structural change to how we're adequately funding services or the resources for the L.G.B.T.Q. community. And you know all of these issues are connected.
In terms of forms of activism, we live in an era where people could post, re-share, start petitions, or donate money as a way to combat oppressive systems and support communities and individuals who are systematically targeted. As opposed to online activism, why do you feel it’s important to physically be present in acts of protest?
We need to do in-person work to do this kind of organizing, where we're connecting with people and occupying these kinds of spaces because we're up against rainbow capitalism, right? Like, we will never have the money and the wealth that white supremacy has built over time. But we have people, and we have these connections and relationships that we're forging with each other in a society that doesn't want us to exist. Our pure being and the work we're doing are challenging all of these systems of capitalism, white supremacy, oppression, and in so many different forms. And so, I think it's important for us to occupy that even if it's controversial, or even if it pisses people off, because that's what we know, from history, how things have changed.
It was powerful to see this come together last year in the middle of a global pandemic. By no means is the pandemic over. So we're still encouraging folks to wear masks and be safe, but it's still important even in this time, I think, now more than ever. Alienation is a big part of capitalism. And in a global pandemic, it's still really difficult to do. But you know, moving off of these virtual spaces and into actual occupying physical space with each other is still a rebellious act. It's critical to us building this kind of vision and getting to the point of what we want to achieve and in a better world.
What does queer liberation mean to you and do you remember the first time you felt liberated?
When I started organizing I was taught you need to organize people around hope and this vision. I think that tracks, but also, I think, about my own experience, and a lot of people that I organize with were not always afforded the ability to experience these moments of elation and joy. There's a part of liberation that is this idea of a concept that is born out of struggle and hardship, and then those moments in your life, where you realize there just has to be something different.
Tying to the moments where I've been liberated, I don't know that there's one moment where I've said, yes, this is it, right? I came out at 16 in Santa Ana, and I didn't have any other queer friends or role models and that was after many years of suicidal thoughts, and denying my own feelings and identity. Even then I still had a lot of inner homophobia, and working through that.
Three years ago, I got into abolition organizing, and in that, I had a really difficult time and experience being doxxed by Nazis. That was one of the hardest points in my life. But out of that it was the queer community who showed up for me, protected me, and it just is reinforced that idea that we keep ourselves safe, right? Like, we can organize it as a vision. But at the end of the day, it's us who take care of each other. As hard as that moment was in my life... that reminded me, this is why we do it, right. Like being around my chosen family, finding my chosen family out here in Long Beach.
Hector Ortiz (He/Him/His)
As a way for each of you to better frame your narratives I want to ask your name, your preferred pronouns, your role in Q.O.W.S., and how you got involved?
I got involved when Q.O.W.S. was working on creating a ballot guide during the election, and it was a lot of fun. I mostly did my activism in the classroom and in the music that I write. This was the first time that I got to step out into the real world, and it was thanks to Q.O.W.S., who took me in and allowed me to help in any capacity. It's been a lot of fun, meeting new people, interesting, amazing individuals. I'm very honored to be a part of this group and honored to be working towards a better future with amazing folks.
In terms of organizing this year's event, what were your main driving points to protest?
I was not involved in the first event. A friend of mine was. And that's how I got introduced to Carl, someone else that I knew was involved. And they were saying how awesome it was. So I'm coming in for the first time working with Q.O.W.S. for the pride event. For me, it's really exciting. I'm excited to help in any capacity I can. And organizing is really fun, a little daunting, but like, still a lot of fun. So like, I trust everyone that's working with each other. And so I feel it's going to be successful.
In terms of forms of activism, we live in an era where people could post, re-share, start petitions, or donate money as a way to combat oppressive systems and support communities and individuals who are systematically targeted. As opposed to online activism, why do you feel it’s important to physically be present in acts of protest?
I think it's important to be active on social media, but I think it's very limited. Because of how social media works, you're only going to see things that benefit you or how you feel, and most likely, you're not going to see something that you are not aligned with. Most of the people that you follow align with your thoughts and views, and ways. It only goes so far, and not to discount the people who are active on social media, because I think that's important. I feel like it's important to show up. But I know that some people can't, and, for me, it's important because I have privilege, I can walk, and I'm able-bodied.
I'm a cisgender male, so I can show up, and I can be in these places. I feel like I have to use that privilege to be there and take space for some of my queer siblings who can't. So, I want to make sure that I take up space and that I'm there for the community and helping in any way that I can. Going back to the previous question that I don't think I really answered. I have kids. So, I want my kids to have a better world, or at least teach them the tools of how we can dismantle these systems that are constantly oppressing us. So, I do it for them, like I do for the next generation. I'm very grateful for today. I'm an out teacher. I can be gay in the classroom, and it's because of the hard work of so many who came before me.
What does queer liberation mean to you and do you remember the first time you felt liberated?
For me, queer liberation will be when children aren't being assigned genders. For me, queer liberation will be when we don't have to march in the streets. For me, queer liberation will be when Black trans women and Brown trans women can exist and thrive and be themselves, and sex work is treated like work because it is. When all this bullshit about bathrooms and laws prevents us from living, our full selves no longer exist. Queer liberation is when we talk about these things in the classroom. That's sort of what I strive for.
I think I've had moments in my life where I was liberated. I think my first moment was the first time I had sex with a man. I felt extremely liberated inside. I mean afterward, there was shame and guilt, like, "Oh, my God, what did I do?". But in that moment, it was so beautiful to share an experience with another man. That was so liberating for me because I was no longer afraid for myself because I knew God didn't smite me. You know, just all these beautiful feelings that completely liberated inside.