Queering the Irish

The most inclusive pride flag there is, as of 2023.

There's a parallel to Ireland and queerfolk:

At the trad Musical Pub Crawl, Trish (?), the person who played the violin most of the night said this: "If you are sitting alone in the back, we probably think you're the police, or a spy."

She got a laugh from us, but she was also serious.

For a culture whose national symbol - the harp - was outlawed by Queen Elizabeth, and whose indigenous language was made criminal, spies and police were real threats.

And it goes even deeper: we were invited to sit together to get to know each other. Everyone in a group was safe, largely because they were interacting with each other. Part of the larger whole, and therefore known or able to eventually be known.

It reminds me of queer culture in that we want to get to know each other and that we're a bit collectivist.

I remember going to a Kate Borenstein reading at Portland State. Everyone was talking to everyone else. And at the Friendsgiving dinner at the Pride Center in my town, people from different friend groups had to sit together at a big communal table, very much like the clutches of folks around the small bar tables at the trad tour.

Being policed, having your culture policed, creates similar safeguards and cultures where there's strength in numbers - and in the knowledge of who's who.

Even though queer culture isn't as policed in this moment where I am, we still have the safeguards in place: perhaps because of our collective trauma, and perhaps out of love - we want to get to know one another.

This parallels the Irish pub culture: Booley, the guitarist of the Pub Crawl (and the guy who did most of the talking!) described pubs as "our living rooms" - in a way that our queer/gay bars are described as "home."

In both cases, these are public spaces made private.

To coalesce, to sing and dance together, and to welcome - or at least find out about - the stranger.

Just not the one sitting alone near the exit.