Out of the Closets, Into the Streets: Quarterly Report One

I can't believe that it's already time for the first quarterly report. Every three months, I send the Watson Foundation a few pages about what I've been doing and what I've learned so far. They ask us to think of it as a "long letter home." It was hard to fit everything into a small space, and I'm so grateful for that.

As I go forward into the next quarter, I have made a few promises to myself. First of all, I will stop applying the systems of evaluation that I learned to use in my life at Rhodes to this experience. The need for a serious amount of stress as an indicator of success is not only not the healthiest thing, it's also counterproductive to embracing the best parts of this year, which I have found live in the moment instead of the long-term plan or schedule.

I am going to stop being scared of failing and start doing things that I know I enjoy, trusting that I can pursue my project successfully and be flexible. I am going to keep exploring and listening and asking questions.

This is, of course, is easier said than done, so if y'all can help keep me in check when possible, it would be much appreciated.

So, with that, here's my letter to the Watson Foundation about the past three months and every new, scary, and beautiful moment or experience I could fit into this space.

Thanks to everyone who made the past three months what they were.

Hello from Argentina! Although I've officially begun the second leg of my journey here in South America, I should start at the beginning, with beautiful Warsaw and the amazing people there.

Boarding the plane in Memphis, I was a jumble of emotions, so ready and excited to begin but also overwhelmed and despite lots of research, entirely unsure of what my life would be for the next year.

It seemed like the Equality March, the official name of Warsaw Pride, would be a great way to dive into my project and introduce myself to the LGBT community. On my third real day in the city, I headed to the beginning of the route. Unfortunately, in my first Watson year lesson in language barriers and in the frailty of the best laid plans, I barely missed the parade due to something lost in translation.

This was extremely disappointing, but one of the big lessons I'm learning so far is to work with the reality instead of planning everything around an idea. I was able to follow the route after the parade and see the sites most important to the marchers, to feel the presence of the huge number of police officers and witness the protesters who remained, and most importantly, to see openly affectionate LGBT couples, an older woman proudly waving her rainbow flag, groups of friends with painted faces and rainbow bracelets. Nervous and unfamiliar with the city, the happy and open people made me feel at home and guided me into my project.

Shortly after Pride, I met with Slava, who is the Office Manager and a Project Coordinator at the Campaign Against Homophobia (KPH), which is the major gay rights organization in Warsaw and the place where I spent many of my afternoons over the past three months. The situation for LGBT people in Poland is not what it should be, and there are no real protections beyond basic workplace protection mandated by the EU. At the KPH, they work to change law and policy, with specific attention to hate crimes and sexual education at the moment, and to raise awareness. Everyone at the KPH has what someone in an interview called an "activist's soul," and they could not have been more welcoming or open. They helped me to find little ways to help out that related to my Watson.

Days in Warsaw were filled with time at the KPH and explorations of the city. There is not a specific gay-friendly neighborhood in Warsaw, so there were nooks and shops and areas to find everywhere. Looking for these places raised new questions and made me think about the importance of space in relation to identity and community, an idea that I hope to continue to explore here in Argentina. Slava also introduced me to gay and gay-friendly night life in Warsaw, coming to get me at the Metro when I was lost and connecting me to many people, all of whom were similarly open and friendly. I found a favorite grocery store close to my little apartment, a walking path and bus route that worked, a coffee shop where a gay couple might hold hands (and where "Walking in Memphis" was regularly on the playlist). I explored Lazienki Park, just about a mile from my apartment, and on Sunday afternoons wandered to the Chopin Monument to see the piano concert open to everyone in the city. Warsaw is beautiful, nothing like the vague, gray picture in my head before the plane landed, and it was a privilege to be able to walk through two parks to get to the KPH and sit outside to read and write. It was a privilege to live in the city, generally, and to be able to get to know the people who live and work for change there.

During my time in Poland, I learned from the pursuit of my project, from people and cities, and from the experience of the Watson as a year of solo travel, none of which can really be separated from the other.

The feelings of community that I experienced on the day of the Equality Parade in Warsaw and on short trips to Berlin and Prague for other Pride celebrations reinforced for me the importance of visibility. At this moment, I have no doubt that Pride is extremely important as a site of solidarity, but I do have growing questions about the impact of the commercialization of the celebration and what it means to drop political posters in favor of Easy Jet floats.

In both formal sit-down interviews and informal conversation, the activists at the KPH frankly discussed their own lives and thoughts on the community and the movement for change. These discussions, combined with conversations around Warsaw, brought me face to face with the everyday bravery that many people nonchalantly wrote off in their own lives. Almost everyone spoke about verbal, and occasionally physical, harassment as a fact of life. This is not to say that it didn't make them angry or push them to change society and the law, but that when I asked about what it was like to live in Warsaw, the response was generally that it was great, but a certain amount of harassment was expected anywhere.

Reflecting on whether or not I would allow for the same in a description of what it is to be gay in Memphis again raised questions about the extent to which sexual orientation or gender identity can serve as a tie between individuals. There are lots of things that we share and experiences, like coming out or going to Pride, that make stories that can in some ways reach across social and cultural gaps. The unbelievable generosity from everyone in Poland made me feel at home but did not change the fact that ultimately, I did not live with the same struggles. It's my continued goal to find commonalities and still remember my position as a guest, my own privilege, and the importance of the differences in our experiences.

I spent a lot of time alone without being lonely and learned how to sit on a bus, walk down the street, or make dinner in peaceful silence. I felt the benefits of being disconnected, without texts or great internet access. There was a moment when I fought the urge to let my hair grow out. To explain: cutting off eleven inches of hair was a personal transformation and a sign of accepting myself and a butch identity. It was also, of course, the result of an extremely supportive community to help along the way. That moment outside the door of the barbershop in Warsaw was a refusal to hide again, even alone in a new place.

Of course not every moment was so triumphant. I struggled with loneliness and missed my family, friends, and girlfriend. I had a breakdown and consequently, a realization that the way I had been programmed to understand success and progress for most of my life would not cut it during this year; I've made a promise to spend the next nine months fighting the urge to make success and stress dependent upon each other and to embrace the freedom that this year offers.

The flight from Poland to Buenos Aires landed just more than a week ago, and so far, things have been wonderful. In the first few days, I met Saulo, who is part of a group in Buenos Aires called Gay Geeks, which has several hundred members throughout the city. He welcomed me to the group and invited me to participate in the various events that they coordinate each month. I've found an apartment in the city, but it won't be ready for another ten days, so in the meantime, I decided to explore queer community in other parts of the country. After two days walking through Iguazu National Park, which was the most beautiful place I have ever seen, I began the bus journey westward. Currently I'm in Cordoba, which is the second largest city and home to a large population of university students. After reading an article about the budding LGBT life here, I thought it would be a good place to spend some time, and in an excellent stroke of luck, a friend of a friend from home, Sydney, is here with her boyfriend, Marco, whose mother works in sexual education. Lizi spoke with me at length about issues of sex and sexuality in Cordoba and Argentina as a whole and provided me with some great contacts working on these issues. I was able to speak with a trans woman about her relationship and her thoughts on Cordoba (Psh! Buenos Aires! Psh! Cordoba is much better!), and Sydney, an excellent sport, became part of a drag show in a local gay bar.

It's difficult to believe that this year is real, and sometimes walking down the street, I get a goofy face just thinking about it. Thank you, so much, for these opportunities and for that goofy-faced person, for pushing me to move out of my comfort zone and to question and explore in a deeper way this thing that has been a driving force in my life for so long. Thank you for the past three months and for the chance to keep going for another nine.

Un abrazo,

Sarah

With the fabulous Slava at the KPH office

With a few of the lovely people at the KPH

With Robert Biedroń, a founder of the KPH and the first openly gay Member of Polish Parliament. He was nice enough to sit down and talk to me about his work in activism.

At Plac Zbawiciela (aka Savior Square, Hipster Square, Rainbow Square), which is home to many gay-friendly bars, cafes, and restaurants. Although the rainbow is meant to be a sign of peace and tolerance, it's seen as a symbol of the LGBT community and has been burned multiple times. Although volunteers always put it back together, only about a third of it was left when this photo was taken, just a few weeks after the last attempt to burn it.