“Oh no, I’m not gay! Why would you ask me that?!”

A queer person’s perspective on the increased straight presence in queer spaces

By: Vishalli Alagappan

As a queer adolescent living in the Midwest, I always fantasized about frequenting gay bars in New York or LA. I would envision my older self who’s parents have finally accepted her sexual orientation and who’s banished her internalized biphobia to her past strutting into a gay bar and waving over a queer friend or smiling at the cute redhead across the counter without the paralyzing anxiety of experiencing homophobia. The mere existence of gay bars gave me the hope of prosperity despite being queer. 


 Although I daydreamed about frequenting gay bars just a couple years ago,  I was tongue-tied when one of my straight friends suggested we visit a gay club. When I asked the other two queer people in the friend group what they thought of the potential endeavor, I received two different answers: “It’s not that big a deal” and “I don’t like the idea, but I don’t want to be in the way of their fun.” As time passed, I convinced myself that my initial uneasiness was an overreaction and adopted a more positive outlook. My friends are accepting of me and they were just showing support. I knew they wouldn’t do anything disrespectful, and would be mindful of the fact that they are entering a queer space, but that discomfort never deserted me. People got busy and plans fell through; I didn’t have to ruminate anymore, but I continued to do so.


When my straight friends first mentioned the idea, they had expressed that they would feel a lot safer dancing in a gay club, without worrying about how they’re percieved or about people of the opposite gender hitting on them. I sympathize with my straight friends, but the exact reasons that they list for preffering a gay club are the reasons gay clubs were created for gay people. I don’t want to ask someone at a gay bar for their number and have them say, “Oh no, I’m not gay! Why would you ask me that?!” 


Straight people partying at gay bars/clubs is reminiscent of wealthy white families vacationing in beach resorts on the outskirts of Cancun when in the city, Mexican women are killed every day for being women and Black and Indeginous Mexicans endure unimaginable systemic discrimination in jobs, education, and access to social benefits. Straight people cannot throw their bachelorette parties at gay bars when there is an epidemic of murdered Black trans women and queer people are routinely denied access to life-saving healthcare. Queer people are queer all the time, while straight people cosplay as queer for a night. 


Of course, I understand why queer spaces are welcoming for everyone in this era of higher acceptance of queer identities and increased sexual fluidity. When interviewed for a New York Times article, 23-year-old tech marketer William Burke said on the topic: “It’s important to have the locations for gay-straight alliance … I know lots of straight people who met transgendered people for the first time at a gay bar, and it changed their perspectives.” When you hear about heartwarming “Queer Eye” moments like this, it’s hard to argue against straight people in queer spaces. The LGBTQIA+ community has always stood for kindness and acceptance of all, so the reverse discriminitaion seems hypocritical.


As exasperating as it is to reflect on this emotional, nuanced issue, there may be a flip side. Chris McKenzie, a 35-year-old computer programmer, says, “Identity crises like these are a good thing, because it creates a dialogue. In the long run, it may make for a new understanding.”


Until we create this new understanding, if you are a straight individual who wants to visit a gay bar/club, first think about why you want to enter a queer space. Are you going with a big group of straight people and one token queer friend? Are you acknowledging your privilege in being able to go to a gay bar without having to deal with the violence, discrimination, and internalized homophobia? Are you treating it as a vacation spot or respecting it as a symbol of queer prosperity? 


Or take action to reform regular bars and leave the gays alone.

Wake Mag