This anthology by former members of the Gay Liberation Front (GLF) captures the history and spirit of the revolutionary time just after Stonewall, when thousands came out of the closet to claim their sexuality, and when queer resistance coalesced into a turbulent, joyous liberation movement—one whose lasting influence would ultimately inform and profoundly shape the LGBT community of today. Personal essays explore the philosophy and culture of the stridently anti-assimilationist the actions, demonstrations and marches; views on marriage, religion and gender; the drugs, orgies and communes; and GLF’s relationship to the hippies, the Black Panthers, the straight Left, the women’s movement, civil rights and the antiwar struggle. The collection includes contributions from Martha Shelley, Cei Bell, Paola Bacchetta, Susan Stryker, Tom Ammiano, Nikos Diaman, Mark Segal, Barbara Ruth and Perry Brass.
Barbara Ruth worked in New Jersey schools as an elementary school teacher and librarian. As a school librarian she enjoyed nurturing the children's joy of reading. After her retirement she and her daughter decided to write a whimsical story about a little girl, Millie, who learns what "gorgeous" means. She lives with her husband in Alexandria, Virginia.
it's hard to picture a time (like the early 1970's) when (apparently) a lot more LGBTQ people felt dedicated not only to sexual liberation, but to the interconnected struggles against U.S. imperialism, racism, patriarchy, economic injustice, and other forms of oppression; when there was more room to envision new ways of living, loving, and changing society (not just a law or a political candidate's chances).
i found it both sad and inspiring to read... inspiring because it brings a much more meaningful understanding of what the movement(s) immediately after Stonewall were all about- and how much they seem to differ from most of the mainstream gay history and present that i've been exposed to. and much of the writing... the passion just leaps off the page and it's a real thrill to read! but sad because it seems that since the 1970's, the mainstreaming, assimilationist, single-issue approach seems to have become almost overwhelmingly dominant. sad because this book left me thinking a lot of "why" and "what happened...?" and "so how did we get HERE?"
particularly enjoyed the chapters on Sylvia Rivera, Marsha P Johnson, DYKETACTICS, Radicalesbians, Radicalqueens. appreciated the attention given to challenges and difficulties, particularly organizing efforts among women, trans folks, and people of color-- that's something that feels so erased in the way Stonewall and GLF are remembered today.
Like all good memoirs of the 1960s and early ‘70s, Smash the Church, Smash the State! takes readers back to a time when revolution seemed imminent. Change was in the air and the fifty-one essays comprising Tommi Avicolli Mecca’s important anthology vividly capture the heady exhilaration of queer activists on both U.S. coasts as the possibility of being out-and-proud became increasingly tangible.
The book is both a look back and a look forward. Its wide-range includes biographies of several unsung LGBTQ heroes as well as a retrospective of community rebellions—including Stonewall—that presaged the contemporary gay rights movement. Other entries run the gamut, from poetry to manifestoes. There’s an analysis of the persistent racism and sexism that dogged early organizing efforts and an incisive look at the mainstreaming of LGBTQ concerns that ultimately dampened the ardor of queer liberationists. Several essays also offer mournful reflections on the withering of pro-LGBTQ socialist and anarchist groups in favor of political organizations that are less challenging to the social order.
In the book’s first section, "Out of the Bars and Into the Streets," contributors conjure their anticipated liberation from racism, sexism, homophobia, classism and middle-class dreariness. It’s hard not to envy the energy, passion, and daring of thousands of queer activists who challenged authority and brought a constantly evolving understanding of sex and gender into everyday life.
So what happened? The post-Stonewall liberation movement, writes contributor Doug Ireland, was a celebration of otherness, an affirmation that it was okay for queer values and concerns to be different from those of straight society. That sensibility began to wane, he writes, when a swath of the community began arguing for marriage equity and the right to bear and raise children. Many LGBTQ folk also expressed a yearning for spiritual acceptance by the religious bodies they’d been reared in. Some opted to become preachers, lay pastors, or religious educators—and raised a ruckus when they were denied admission. Still others wanted simple domesticity, complete with home ownership, a new car every couple of years, and a family pet. Ireland calls this faction “the gay citizenship movement” and concedes that it edged out the radicals, as if the two poles could not possibly co-exist.
This unresolved tension continues to rankle, and Smash the Church, Smash the State! does a good job of laying out the conflict. At the same time, the essays do little to engage LGBTQ community members who see the American Dream as their birthright. Unconcerned with the issues that galvanized gay liberationists, they want to live conventional lives without being hassled for whom they love.
The activists writing in Smash the Church, Smash the State! are distressed by this, angry that so many LGBTQ people are politically unaware and/or disinterested. I understand their concern and agree that opposition to militarism, war, and the isms that restrict us needs to be disseminated to the widest possible audience. At the same time, when we say we favor non-conformity, it means we support people’s right to make decisions we hate, whether it’s joining the military, becoming a police officer, or moving to the suburbs. The existence of queer Republicans and soldiers may befuddle progressives, but we have no more right than Focus on the Family to dictate who can do what when.
Worse, it’s a losing battle since no one can stop this assimilation. Instead, it behooves those whose lives exemplify the culture of difference—lives beautifully heralded in Smash the Church, Smash the State!—to proudly strut their stuff. What better way to honor the rainbow that has come to symbolize diversity?
There are many excellent elements to this book and I am certainly glad it exists. The questions some of the authors raise about liberation vs citizenship struggles are still as pertinent today, although I think some would be heartened to see the current queer solidarity with Palestine activity. I do wish the editors had paid more attention to the difference between reporting the outdated views of the times and using reflection to push contemporary anti-trans rhetoric. It was not great to encounter the latter in some of the chapters. Overall though, this is an important record of queer history and I am left with the line from one of the poems: “are we a movement or a market?”
This collection captures an array of lived experiences and political thought from the late 60s and early 70s pertaining to gay liberation and broader social transformation. Many of the writers and thinkers features in this volume's pages have been overlooked in retellings of gay history, yet they provide amazing insight into exactly how transformative queerness and gender diversity can be. This is a great read for queer or trans folks looking for a context outside rainbow capitalist or assimilationist paradigms.
The Guide "Let's posit the Stonewall riots that rocked New York City in 1969 as the Big Bang of the gay movement. Ater that, all things seemed to be loose in the universe. It was a cultural, sexual and political revolution, or, as Thomas Foran commented at the time, 'a freakin' faggot revolution.' And it was about time. Edited by Tommi Avicolli Mecca, Smash the Church, Smash the State! (City Lights, $18.96) is a lively account by many of the people who were there at the revolution and others whose lives were changed forever by the push for gay liberation." —John Mitzel
Midwest Book Review "When everyone hates you, it's natural to hate them right back. Smash the Church, Smash the State!: The Early Years of Gay Liberation is a look at the early days of gay liberation where much of society grew finally tired of hiding a major part of them and took a stand for their rights. A fight that rages on to this day, the stories of those who threw the first stone are inspiring and will motivate current civil rights fighters to stand their ground. Smash the Church, Smash the State! is an ideal addition to any history collection focusing on civil rights."
Book News Inc. "To many Americans, the gay liberation movement began sometime in the 1960s as a seemingly sudden phenomenon of all manner of queer men and women doing silly things, militant things, and serious things to express their dissatisfaction with what they viewed as a repressive social order. According to Mecca, editor of this engaging anthology and a dedicated participant in gay liberation, the movement actually began decades earlier, possibly as early as 1949. This anthology is a collection of stories shared by many individuals from the perspective of their lives inside the movement."
Frontiers "The anthology contains fifty profound and heartwarming stories which includes manifestos, important gay revolutionary documents, insightful articles, poetry, reminiscences and biting commentary on contemporary gay life and political consciousness. . . Read Smash the Church, Smash the State to understand your history. If possible, buy an extra copy and gift it to someone under thirty. It's one of those gay history books that is a 'must' for your bookshelf." —Don Kilhefner
Bookmarks "The personal is riotously political and the history is tangibly personal in this anthology of diverse, down-to-earth reflections on the early days of Gay Liberation, from both queers who were there, and from others looking back 40 years later . . . Avicolli Mecca, himself a longtime activist who marched the streets of Philadelphia not long after the 1969 bar riot in Greenwich Village, has compiled a vivid, colorful history, blending original essays, poems and songs with reprints of historical manifestos and brief biographical vignettes of activists no longer alive to craft a co-gendered collection that is by turns emotional, joyous, poignant, occasionally contradictory - and enthusiastically defiant." —Richard Labonte
Library Journal "The 40th anniversary of the historic June 1969 Stonewall Uprising that marked a turning point in the gay liberation movement seems to be passing with little notice. Mecca (Between Little Rock and a Hard Place) marks the occasion with this anthology that commemorates the anarchic spirit of those heady early days. Mecca digs into the countercultural roots of the movement, especially of the Gay Liberation Front of which he was a member, emphasizing that much of the energy that propelled the gay movement at the time drew from its more radical elements. The essays (and some poems) assembled here, some previously published, represent that vanguard of the LGBT community that did not seek acceptance from or assimilation into society at large, but to live openly and unabashedly queer, with social justice for all. Even if one doesn't agree with their attitude, their passion, commitment, and enthusiasm is undeniable. Mecca particularly highlights the reminiscences of women, the trangendered, and persons of color, whose roles historically are too often given short shrift." —Richard J. Violette
Beyond Chron "Everyone in the San Francisco activist scene today knows Tommi Avicolli-Mecca – or as many call him, 'Tommi the Commie.' At Beyond Chron, we are privileged to have him as a columnist (we jokingly call him our "religion editor") – as he balances op-ed writing with a full-time job counselling tenants at the Housing Rights Committee. Tommi is an eloquent voice against gentrification in the Castro, and in 2006 many progressives urged him to run against Supervisor Bevan Dufty. But as Tommi told me at the time, he is more of a “smash the church, smash the state” kind of guy – making the book title appropriate. . . There are many who now say the American era of conservatism is over – and we are now seeing a progressive transformation. As the queer community elaborates where it is going, Smash the Church, Smash the State should not be viewed as a mere historical anthology – but as a critical examination of where to go from here." —Paul Hogarth
I was really resistant to reading this book. not really sure why. possible i've just read my share of earnest, well-intentioned and important yet poorly written and poorly edited queer history anthologies. does this sound as jaded and pompous as it feels? well, its just the truth. BUT i really like Tommi, having had more contact with him through my job slinging him Tofu Cream pies than through our mutual queer communities, and i was going on a long plane flight which is where i really like to read history or memoir. It was a really great read - yes, the writing was amateur, it could have used a whole lot more editing and like so many of our histories mainly seemed to include the voices of the authors friends and cohorts. yet many of these were voices that most of us might not have heard or read before, places, histories and moments that are not as splashy or well documented as Stonewall. I highly recommend it.
"Then the process of reification began. The essence of gay liberation, which is love, became a thing, a marketable commodity you could wear around your neck or paste on your bumper...."
--Jason Victor Serinus
The quote above gives a fair indication of where this very cool anthology is coming from, as people remember back to the days of the Gay liberation Front and various other groups and activities--mainly from 1968-1972. The intent isn't only to mark an exciting period in history or just remember the crazy good times of youth, but to remind people of today who believe in assimilation rather than liberation that there is more to life--and being queer--then rainbow flags and gays in the military.
Great stories of the years just before and during the time of gay liberation in the late '60s and early '70s. Felt like the post-Gay Liberation essays were a little weak, but that's a minor complaint.
like A+ historical documents and idk how to feel about the idea that *no one* in the era is responsible for the failures of gay liberation to deliver on its promises other than a nebulous assimilationism and the personal failings of others?