Illustrated by Noel Guzman/OutWrite
This article was originally published in our Winter 2023 print issue “Culture.”
In the era before the internet, queer communities were localized, each one unique to its geographic area. When the AIDS pandemic spread throughout the world, killing an estimated 1 in 15 gay men in America by 1995, it not only came with a horrific loss of life, but also decimated communities and networks of queer people across the country.
As queer artists and activists fell victim to AIDS, their creative projects and progress in furthering queer rights were lost. Some examples of these queer culture-makers that died from AIDS include Freddie Mercury, lead vocalist of Queen, and Keith Haring, a painter known for his colorful, cartoonish style that decorated many subways in New York City. Many of the founders of “punking” — a high-energy dance style that originated in the underground queer community in Los Angeles — were also killed during the AIDS pandemic, resulting in the style fading out of the mainstream until it was reformed in the early 2000s as “whacking.”
Culture is intrinsically attached to community: a culture is defined by a community of people who share an identity with each other, such as nationality or queerness, and is built out of the active contact and collaboration of these people with each other. When the AIDS pandemic decimated queer communities in America, much queer culture went with them.
Now, some aspects of queer art are seeing a resurgence, only in a different medium: the Internet. Rather than the localized cultures and communities, queer people now are reaching out across borders of all kinds to find each other, creating a network that spans across the globe. This new form of queer networking has huge benefits: closeted kids can engage in queer culture and meet queer people more safely than in-person activities allow; queer people in different geographical regions can learn about each others’ existence and cultures, and queer art and media is more accessible than ever.
More nontraditional media, like fanfiction or digital art, have become especially popular among queer audiences. Since there is no barrier to whose art is seen in digital formats or social media, unlike with physical art galleries or book publication, anybody can create art and garner an audience. The accessibility of creating also means that creative experimentation is less risky for creators, as they will not be denied access to a platform if their content performs poorly. This means that online queer media has the potential to be more diverse than ever, and a broad range of queer artists have gained broader visibility through online platforms.
Much of queer community being online and through social media also has a darker side. Social media is ultimately designed to capture your attention for the sake of advertising. As a result, app developers design algorithms to push content that maximizes user engagement over everything. This creates problems like echo chambers — environments in which already-held beliefs are amplified and reinforced — and the censorship and erasure of marginalized content creators, especially Black and Indigenous people.
So, what do algorithms mean for queer culture and community? Ultimately, popular (and likely more normative) queer content will continue to succeed while others fall behind. The emphasis on one kind of content palatable to a cisgender, straight audience means a lack of diversity online, directly counteracting the accessibility that digital media promises. When trying to create culture that lasts, a diverse, complex phenomenon, algorithms cannot define to success.
How can we turn the Internet into a force for good? On social media, engagement is measured quantitatively, i.e. watch time, likes, comments, shares. These metrics can be used to our advantage with devotion and commitment. Seeking out, watching, and engaging with content from lesser-known queer creators with a more marginalized lived experience uplifts a more diverse range of voices online.
Although we can choose to be more inclusive and productive in our online engagement, I would argue that online media is still not an all-encompassing substitute for face-to-face interaction. Call me a Boomer, but humans are social creatures. We are not designed to exist solely with the limited communication the Internet provides. Text-based communication cuts out nonverbal cues, which are vital to understanding and connecting with someone, and makes it difficult to have nuanced conversations. Don’t get me wrong, online friendships are just as real as those you conduct in person, and they can be a saving grace for queer kids and adults in hostile environments. But without the community that comes with face-to-face contact, culture cannot be created in a long-lasting meaningful way.
The Internet should be a gateway to more holistic, meaningful engagement within our own localized communities. More content on the Internet should be created with the intention of helping people find queer events, spaces, artists, and people around them and developing a community from the people we meet in real life. (You can follow us on Instagram where we do just that.)
When whacking was developed in the early 2000s, it was revived because of conscious, intentional efforts to do. Its resurgence originated in New York City, but now gains more popularity across America as people discover and attempt to revamp the style. For example, Whacking Los Angeles is a community organization that seeks to preserve the dance style. Similarly, queer culture must be created and rediscovered in the aftermath of the AIDS crisis through the active effort of local communities with a passion for it.
The nature of queerness is to exist across all borders; anyone can be queer, no matter their race, nationality, ability, or religious beliefs. Everyone’s queer experience is unique. This means that the Internet can be a wonderful place for discovering queer people of all shapes, sizes, and backgrounds, but it also means that one’s individual community will always be where they can make an impact and our most meaningful connections. This is where culture is born and created.
Credits:
Author: Emma Blakely (They/She/He)
Artist: Noel Guzman (They/Them)
Copy Editors: JQ Shearin (She/Her), Maya Parra (She/Her)