Bear Joy is an Act of Resistance

As America heads into uncertain times, we as bears and members of the LGBTQ+ community must draw closer to and rely on each other if we are to survive the potential oncoming onslaught. It is not the first time we have faced such challenges and thankfully our queer elders and activists are still here to show us the way and help as along. Les K Wright, as a bear community elder, historian and activist shares his vision and rallying call to the community, affirming that bear joy is an act of resistance.

The first thing I read when I woke up on The Day After (November 6, 2024) was this email from one of my oldest and closest friends, an American expatriate who moved to Germany in 1973. For several years she and her German husband have been asking me to explain to them what the fuck is going on in the US.

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Then I turned on the TV.  I watched in disbelief as the newscasters prattled on like today was just another day in American democracy. They were mindlessly parroting Trump’s brand new vow to “unite the country,” as if they hadn’t been reporting his vicious divisiveness for years. I remembered the fours years of waking up every day, addicted to finding out what new outrage Trump had committed overnight. He outdid himself on a daily basis.

In the course of the day I went from feeling nonplussed to numb, from angry to reviewing in my mind all my “I told you so’s.” Mike called me from California, concerned about how I was doing. (Better than him, it turned out.). I tried to start my daily writing but was too distracted. So I went grocery shopping, did laundry, and binged on donuts all day.

In the afternoon I began seeing Facebook posts from cooler heads prevailing, reminding me to be in the moment, stay positive, and remember we queer folk are in this together. We have each other’s backs. Gay community arose in the early 1970s as the first collective response to systemic homophobia. When the AIDS epidemic was killing us gay men off we feared this was the end of gay community. Our community came together to take care of each other and to create the support systems when homophobic America was failing to do so. At best straight America was, at best, busy ignoring us, at worst, openly gloating over seeing us “perverts suffer God’s retribution.” I can attest as a survivor that those days in San Francisco were paradoxically “the best of times, the worst of times.”

I have witnessed far more positive change for us queer folks than I ever thought ’d see in my lifetime. I have also long suspected that we are a lot less “accepted” than most people believe. Early in my life I developed a sense of paranoia, common to my generation of gay men and lesbians, which served well as a survival skill. Today’s younger generation has grown up in a relatively safer environment. They do not have the skills earlier generations developed to survive in and fight against a hostile society. There are still queer elders with these skills among us. (The AIDS epidemic did not take all of us.) We have the knowledge and wisdom called for in this moment.

We have a proud history. A generation of gay and lesbian historians, all of them queer activists, uncovered a past that homophobic society had hidden or obliterated. Overnight Hitler destroyed the gay world thriving in the 1930s in Weimar Germany destroyed. After World War II a new generation of gay and lesbian activists built a whole new—and once again, thriving–queer community. Trump will assuredly try, and very likely succeed (in the short run) to undo the fifty years of progress we have made. History is a weapon. We now know the truth, our truth. Two thousand years ago a certain social justice radical said, “the truth will set you free.”

In times of catastrophes, natural or man-made, people always come together in mutual aid and in camaraderie. We draw strength in unity. We give each other hope. Harvey Milk, our first political martyr, put it this way, “you and you and you, you have to give people hope.”  No matter what–there is always hope.

In recent years bears have become recognized and respected in the wider queer community for our imperfect practice of our principles of acceptance, relative nonjudgmentalness, inclusiveness, and commitment to mutual support and education. Some even hold the bear community up as a model for how to live in and celebrate our diversity.

Earlier this year I met 28-year-old Brad Porceng at our first Sunday Bear Brunch here in Syracuse.  He identifies himself as a bear. As we became friends I realized I was meeting an emerging queer activist. I can’t say it any better than what he penned and posted on the Bear-a-Cuse Facebook page yesterday:

“We as members of the LGBTQ community have survived some dark times, and we will survive this too. It is imperative at this time that we do not turn away from the challenges that face our nation (and our world) but stand and face them together. To those who would oppress us, our existence is inherently political. We cannot afford to be afraid to engage in politics–we have no choice. Our dancing and celebration is political. That is the nature of Pride. At the same time, we are not alone. We must uplift others, especially those less fortunate, who are further marginalized and hold the least power. These are the people who will especially be needing our help. The people united will never be defeated!”