IIn an increasingly stressful world, summer vacation not only offers a blissful break from Zoom meetings, status reports, and all the other stifling demands of 9-5; they are also downright restorative. In the coming months, Americans will head to nature preserves and theme parks, resorts and campgrounds, family reunions and roommate get-togethers in search of some well-deserved rest and relaxation. For LGBTQIA+ people, however, a few days in a secluded place are especially important.
There is no place on Earth where LGBTQ people are a “natural” majority. We're randomly distributed in the population, and while we might call some zip codes “gay neighborhoods,” that usually means that for a handful of blocks in a huge city, recognizable queer people make up 20, 30, or maybe 40% of the community. We are everywhere, but we are rarely there in large numbers. That’s why the joy of queer vacation destinations like Provincetown, Massachusetts, Fire Island, New York, home to Cherry Grove and The Pines; Rehoboth Beach, Del.; Ogunquit, Maine; Palm Springs, California; or other LGBTQ enclaves is so necessary: because as long as we can afford to be there, we experience the pleasure of being part of the majority, so that our cultures and aesthetics are the default.
A quick introduction for anyone who has never had the chance to visit such a place. Queer vacation destinations have a few things in common: a remote location that deters casual visitors and allows for a degree of anonymity, relative proximity to towns with strong queer communities, gorgeous views around every corner, and plenty of performance spaces. However, there is no guarantee that a gay complex will arise from such geography. There is no defined route to enclave status, but once a critical mass of LGBTQ visitors is reached, the network effect applies. Arty lesbians go to Provincetown and gays party in Fire Island Pines for the same reason football fans go to sports bars and parents log on to Facebook: that's where their people are.
I write about lesbians for a living, so I already know with absolute certainty how strong, vital, and creative queer women are. Yet, sometimes I want to be reassured and comforted by a visible community. When I want to feel awe, I think back to the 1987 and 1993 national LGBTQ marches in Washington, D.C., and how life-changing it was to see hundreds of thousands of lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender people filling every square centimeter of the space. National Mall – and filling subway trains, cafes and supermarkets the days before and after. Every Pride festival reminds us of the beauty, vitality and diversity of our community, if only for one glorious day. But being in a gay resort allows me to access that power every time I get off the ferry.
Of course, resorts and mountain resorts have always served other minority communities. To cite just one example, the “Borscht Belt” retreats of the Catskills were popular destinations for New York Jews in the mid-20th century. Although these shelters surely brought much joy, they were not the only place where American Jews could gather publicly, while until the 1970s, queer vacation destinations offered unique freedom to LGBTQ people. Even in large cities like New York, bars and public gathering places were regularly subject to surveillance and police raids.
Then as now, in the era of marriage equality and gay rights, the biggest draw of LGBTQ vacation destinations isn't stunning beaches or attractive buildings, even if they have such elements; it’s the beautiful people who dance, eat and shop there. The most relaxing thing about vacationing at a queer resort is knowing that readable queer people will be welcomed, respected, and cared for. We breathe easier knowing that there will be other lesbian couples in the cafes and that this is normal – and even expected! – to invite a person of the same sex to dance. In truth, it's hard to say whether gays constitute a majority even in these resorts, but their shops, inns, entertainment venues, and outdoor gathering spaces are designed to prioritize our relationships, tastes, and cultures .
Although it's not the case for every visitor, a few days at the seaside aren't my only chance to come out. Still, I don't want to step back from my comfortably gay life when I'm on vacation. I have no desire to tense up – straighten up, so to speak – during the precious weeks when relaxation is first order of business.
Are these places a perfect utopia? No. Lesbians constitute a minority in most countries, although comparative gains in women's earning capacity have increased their presence in recent decades. (Tragically, the deaths of hundreds of thousands of gay and bisexual men over the AIDS The crisis has also contributed to this demographic rebalancing.) These resorts also tend to be predominantly white, a legacy of their origins as havens for the wealthy. Like the 2022 movie Fire Island so cleverly demonstrated that places like The Pines of Fire Island have long been unwelcoming to non-wealthy, non-white visitors.
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In recent years, Provincetown has made an explicit appeal to visitors of color using the same strategy that has increased the presence of women in the city. In 1984, inspired by Fantasia Fair, a transgender gathering first held nine years earlier, a group of female innkeepers imagined Women's Weekend (now Women's Week), with the aim of attracting more lesbian visitors and extend the summer season until October. Since that success, Ptown has enthusiastically embraced festivals targeting segments of the queer community, with events for single women, parents, bears (big guys who proudly display their body hair), and cabaret fans. (At the very least, transition periods between events make for interesting sights at the Boston ferry terminal, such as in July, when a group of bearded men disembark and a group of women take their place, while Bear Week morphs into Girl Splash.) More recently, Provincetown has also hosted weekends for women and men of color, and as siloed as such events may seem, they allow visitors of color to experience the feeling to belong to the majority that white gay men and lesbians have enjoyed in Provincetown for decades. .
Gay resorts aren't just for proud community members like me, of course. They are especially powerful for young and new LGBTQ people. With so many powerful voices amplifying homophobic and transphobic rhetoric, and without family members to model the stages of queer life, it's especially important that there are places other than bars and parades where people can see and perhaps even study gay life in all its glorious variety. Queer resorts make this possible.
Adapted from A Place of Our Own: Six Spaces That Shaped Queer Women's Culture by June Thomas. Copyright © 2024. Available from Seal Press, an imprint of Hachette Book Group, Inc.
