Dykecapades
Surviving 'Bedgate' and distancing from Boston Pride.
by Julia Russell
"People want to pit us against Pride. It's not about that,"
says Dyke March organizer Sarah Shreeves after a recent planning meeting for
this year's Dyke March. "We just want something extra, something for us. Some people wanted an alternative to Pride. Some of us
have a problem with the politics, or lack of politics, of Pride. We're
concerned with lesbian visibility."
If the Dyke March has accomplished anything in the past two years, it's been
lesbian visibility. Who can forget the first march in 1995, which saw about 500
women, some of whom wore neon bumper stickers with messages such as FATTER THAN
BARBIE, BUTCHER THAN KEN and HEY NEWT, YOUR SISTER'S CUTE, merging with -- or
crashing into, depending on your vantage point -- the Boston Pride Parade? And
whatever your lasting impressions of Pride '96 (Mayor Tom Menino leading the
parade, Stilt Man, or those Nynex employees waving plastic phones), few have
forgotten the bed float animated by various lesbians simulating sex.
The float and its frolicking inhabitants (modeled after a similar bed in the
1995 New York Dyke March) received scathing coverage in both of Boston's daily
papers. And Pride '96 co-chairs Sabrina Taylor and Gregg Fraker publicly
denounced those associated with the rolling bed, which had been pulled into the
main parade directly behind the mayor. To be sure, others were delighted with
the unique float and saw it as a sign of a new generation of radical
activism.
"It takes a lot to offend me," says DeDe Keritover, who participated in last
year's Dyke March and Pride Parade. "What is offensive to me is that people
can't get protease inhibitors paid for. And that there is no money for research
on breast cancer. That offends me. Two young dykes having fun on a bed doesn't
offend me."
Nevertheless, Bedgate, as the incident is now called, symbolizes the rift
between Dyke March and Boston Pride organizers. Activists like Shreeves say
they're disenchanted by what they see as the growing commercialization of gay
culture propagated by the formerly white, male leadership of Pride. And that
they're frustrated by what they perceive to be a lack of attention to lesbian
issues and events at Pride. Meanwhile Taylor, an African-American lesbian who
is the lone chair of Boston Pride this year, says she's frustrated with Dyke
March organizers who still denounce Pride for being "white and male."
"I marched with them last year. I took off my Pride T-shirt and put on a Dyke
March T-shirt," Taylor says. And when she and Fraker were criticized during a
gay-and-lesbian town meeting at the Arlington Street Church last August for not
making Pride political or more welcoming to lesbians, she set up meetings with
groups including the Lesbian Avengers and the Boston Alliance of Gay and
Lesbian Youth soliciting suggestions to make Pride better.
The end result is that this year, Pride will be called a "march" and not a
"parade." The Thursday Night Event will be geared toward lesbians and there
will be a party for lesbians, funded and sponsored by Pride, on June 7.
Dyke March organizers have responded by saying that their march is no longer a
response to Pride, or an attempt to make it more inclusive. This year's Dyke
March will be about raising awareness of the need for better health-care
access. Organizers have also announced that their march will be held a week
after the Boston Pride March, on June 14. "With a separate day, we can do
exactly what we want," says organizer Sara Hairston. "It's our own thing."
These efforts to create a higher profile for the Dyke March haven't come
without criticism. Taylor, for one, says she's "very, very disappointed" that
the Dyke March won't be held on the same day. "I thought it would be great to
have all of those women feed in [to the parade] behind the Dykes on Bikes, to
lead off this year's Pride," she says. "It would have been such a powerful
statement."
Past Dyke March organizer Sarah Driscoll says she appreciates the motivation
of the Dyke March organizers, but worries that without the draw of the larger
parade, fewer women will show up. And Robin Melavalin, who joined last year's
Dyke March, adds this caveat: "People who think the Dyke March is a good idea
need to think about how they would react if another group -- for example,
people of color -- decided to separate because they thought that Pride was a
racist event and that Pride wasn't addressing their needs. I wonder how people
would feel about that? I'm for total inclusion, even though I understand that
groups need to be separate sometimes. I want us to work toward one completely
inclusive Pride March that addresses all the issues."
For many, though, the Dyke March, no matter when it is held -- or why -- is an
event not to be missed. Susan Jacob, who attended last year's march, says, "The
main parade, while a lot of fun, has gotten quite commercial. I mean, corporate
sponsors on some of the floats! For me it's almost too
mainstream. . . . I don't want to be a part of main culture and
its values. I chose a different path. The Dyke March speaks to this." But, she
adds with a smile, "I do enjoy the diversity and fun all those gay boys bring
to a parade. The sense of fiesta is important too."
Whether or not the women of the Dyke March ever plan to rejoin Pride remains
unclear -- although this move to hold it a week later does not bode well for
the kind of Pride that Melavalin and others envision. But then, again, where
would all the fun go if we ever did agree on what Pride means to us all?
Julia Russell is a freelance writer living in Jamaica Plain; she can be
reached at julia_russell@concordacademy.org.
Respond to this article.