An Ode to Our Archives
Communitywide conversation on language, representation, organizing, and so on have been circulating for decades but social media has platformed them further during the past 10 years. Lacking physical third spaces can limit finding organic interpersonal relationships while discriminatory and historically devoid sentiments circulate; unfortunately these notions are partially due to the significance of online conversation assumed to exist in a vacuum. How can those targeted by exclusionary rhetoric find safety and unity with or without frequent access to third spaces? Where do those who are looking for education find it? What can those who are misinformed be redirected towards to reformative care? Explore the archives.

Archival collections are reflective of longstanding sought connection, resistance, and rich love. This documentation is an honorable form of preservation that protects and upholds the realities of past lives which inevitably guides and reaffirms lived experiences of those of us existing today. Outside of academic spaces, archives are not often utilized as a critical resource for artistic or historical reference and community guidance which would heavily benefit not only individuals coming into themselves but collective practices like circular online discussions. Archives exist as an ever expansive time capsule of lifetimes methodically preserved through collective care; jackpots of loving memory and seemingly unlimited education. 

An archive materializes in a multitude of forms such as anthological literature, documentary series’, and physical spaces like libraries to hold multimedia collections of documentation. Less recognized manifestations include personal digital archives (e.g. photo gallery on phones and laptops or stored written documents), shared and collectively reviewed community archives with information about loved ones, and work outside of established or “orthodox” institutions which frequently overlap with community archives.

Historical records facilitate a more accurate appreciation and understanding for lesbian lives, as well as of the practices and spaces that were established, the complexity and nuances of identity, and revolutionary love in interpersonal relationships as their existence alone demanded a safer reality.

In technicality, when reviewing an archival entity one understands all that is the file structure, known as the “outer shell”, in addition to an analysis and learning of all that's within the file. When these entities are found, the archivist works to reinstate them as they were in an attempt to place any documents in their original order. However, interpretation of said order is subjective leaving the archives to be compromised through time due to ownership. Further disruption happens through inequalities in legality towards human rights; often including the denial of autonomy. To correct this concern, archivists and all those reviewing hold the responsibility of “maintaining institutional integrity and original order” (Shannon Mattern 6:50, The New School).

Lesbian community archives, like lesbian identity and the spaces we share, are historically explored and embraced as environments held for autonomy beyond bureaucratic structures. During Queer Archives: Between the Individual and the Institutional, a discussion at The Vera List Center for Art and Politics at The New School, interdisciplinary research-based conceptual artist, filmmaker and curator Tiona Nekkia McClodden expands on these occurrences explaining that unfortunately, misguided individuals and structures hold power dictating not only funding but visibility. McClodden explains that guidelines, especially once tainted by colonialism, suggest a nonqueer perspective and leaving historical accounts with gaps. Thankfully, there is ongoing work actively reversing this erasure.

Joan Nestle, Deborah Edel, Julia Stanley, Sahli Cavallaro, Pamela Oline, and Mabel Hampton founded the Lesbian Herstory Archives in Park Slope, Brooklyn, New York, with the shared vision of creating access to and education on free materials and services on lesbian history. In their eyes, lesbian history, was "disappearing as quickly as it was being made." (lesbianherstoryarchives.org) In order to avoid receiving government funding, they organized fundraisers in order to continue providing the archives' entirety of services free. The archives, which are run by volunteers, also function as a museum and community center. One of the world's largest collections of records "by and about lesbians and their communities'' (nyclgbtsites.org), it includes 11,000 books by and about lesbians from the nineteenth century to the present, lesbian pulp fiction novels, oral histories, files for lesbian activist and community groups, and rare lesbian and feminist periodicals. Lesbians worldwide have sent pieces like love letters and photos to periodicals.

In a 2019 interview with Paris Photo, visual activist and photographer Zanele Muholi shares how critical visual archives are to safely hold space for those in the LGBTQ+ community, specifically in context of her physical community and work in South Africa. Muholi uses her visual activism as an “act of consciousness” to produce informative images. She explains that her work helps with the “undoing of any forms of exclusion” and “invisibility.” Her visual archives record the expansiveness of lesbian personhood, friendship, romance, and so on. This work ensures individual lives in cities with social and political climates that strive to erase them exist beyond the limitations of time on a global scale. 

Curve magazine, founded in 1990 by Franco Stevens is the longest running and best selling lesbian magazine in the world. Stevens and other early team members like Deb St. John and Katie Brown toured cities by visiting bookstores, coffee shops, clubs, pride events, and more throughout the US to meet other lesbians and share the magazine. The word spread across the country about the magazine and it quickly became a communitywide resource that both physically brought lesbians together as well as an optimistic perspective into the many sectors (e.g. arts, culture, family, relationships, self, etc) of a multitude of lesbians' lives. The articles, interviews, photoshoots, published community feedback, and more instantly nurtured connection to lesbian culture and events often in spite of geographical distance or the danger of being out. Curve.com also has a page of archives where readers can access older issues. This magazine is still in print today and its creation was pivotal for lesbian visibility.

Literary anthologies are handheld archives that present a single location for a collection of work. “Piece of my Heart” anthologized by Makeda Silvera centers the stories of lesbians of color. The literature is sorted by themes of each writing rather than extent of experience or awarded qualification; a true community collective and time capsule of the late 1980’s. Consisting of personal essays, poetry, journal entries, play scripts, and more, the book shares lifetimes of memories with recollections equally relevant over 35 years later. Art remains a centuries-long prime source of communication. Expression through image, sound, and choice words preserve action and emotion in time. 

I believe my own earlier understanding about accessing archives would’ve reaffirmed a sense of belonging and it’s extremely clear a collective knowing of past and ongoing events, projects, and resources would prevent, what feels like, infinite misguided and repetitive conversations rooted in lack of information and attempts at self preservation. My personal beginnings of learning lesbian history was an eclectic collection of mediums; often documentaries and scripted films, oral stories passed down via conversation and documentation, and both pictures and writings found online. Likewise, social media allows for access to spaces to connect with other lesbians regardless of distance. 

If the objective is to connect with others and share both personal and historical information, the magnitude and speed of the internet are blessings that should be handled with care. While the internet seems to offer a limitless number of opportunities to connect with like-minded individuals, speak on what's cared for, and build relationships that can eventually lead to face-to-face encounters, it is not a limitless space devoid of consequences. Those harmed by discriminatory conversations should not have to bear the labor, nor expectation, of providing free education. Widespread encouragement of accessing historical community records can be an effective preventative measure. The stories that are preserved by archives and archivists are gifts to the world that could otherwise be lost to the abyss of time.


Citations

Lesbian herstory archives. NYC LGBT Historic Sites Project. (2022). https://www.nyclgbtsites.org/site/lesbian-herstory-archives/

Queer Archives: Between the Individual and the Institutional | The New School
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y7kpkA08gUA&list=PLy8sFuTzlHnHxXA2KYvCanMCFK7TJ4K-V&index=1

Silvera, M. (1992). Piece of my heart: A lesbian of colour anthology. Sister Vision Press.

The Curve Foundation. CURVE. (2023, May 5). https://www.curvemag.com/

“Bookshelves of the Lesbian Herstory Archives at its original Upper West Side location, 1979. Source: Joan Nestle, "Don't Stop Talking 2" blog.” via nyclgbtsites.org