Khubchandani calls this a form of homonormativity and says gay people have idealized a suburban life with a job and partner, because that life is the least policed by forces typically hostile to queer culture. Nowadays, 87% of gay couples live in mixed neighborhoods where gay and straight people live next door to one another, according to a 2012 study by sociologist Amy Spring. As our families, neighborhoods and workplaces have become more accepting, LGBTQ people have grown likelier to bond with those groups, staying in for a family dinner or drinking elsewhere with co-workers rather than commiserating with queer pals at the gay watering hole. In his book There Goes the Gayborhood?, sociologist Amin Ghaziani says the number of gay men living in gay enclaves across America declined 8.1% from 2004 to 2014. It’s a theory that says LGBTQ people in America have gained greater acceptance from their families, coworkers and society at large, so they feel less of a need to cloister themselves with other queer people in gayborhoods and gay bars.Īs a result, LGBTQ people are moving out of the gayborhoods (and thus away from gay bars) and into the larger suburbs in their place come straight residents and mainstream non-LGBTQ businesses. Numerous sources theorize that gay bars (and gayborhoods in general) are simply victims of the gay movement’s political success. While most of the bars we mention in this article are open to people of any (or no) gender, we often use the term “gay bar” to reflect all such spaces, despite them welcoming LGBTQ people as a whole. For one, “queer bar” sounds hopelessly old-fashioned, and no one says “LGBTQ bar.” But also, lesbian bars are largely their own unique entity and have always been fewer in number and in quicker decline than gay bars. Both men also happen to be drag performers.Īlso, a quick note: From here on out we’ll be using the term “gay bar” rather than “queer,” “lesbian” or “LGBTQ bar” for several reasons. In uncovering the possible culprits behind the decline of the gay bar, we spoke with two individuals in addition to conducting our own research: Richard Curtin, a former Dallas gay bar owner who managed two of the city’s biggest gay venues, S4 and its adjoining drag venue, the Rose Room and Kareem Khubchandani, a professor currently working on on a book about gay nightlife spaces in Bangalore and Chicago. It’s knowledge that is especially important during an age when queer spaces are increasingly under attack - by closings by a changing LGBTQ community that simply craves more than gay bars have traditionally offered and by literal attacks, such as the 2016 shooting at Orlando’s Pulse nightclub (and numerous other acts of violence inflicted on gay bars and patrons).
And it’s important we understand those reasons, lest we lose a part of our queer culture without ever knowing why. If gay bars are actually in decline, it’s for a myriad of reasons.
After all, lots of queer people continue to go to gay bars to cruise, and many others go for reasons other than sex - to see friends, to dance, to drink, to enjoy a drag show, to enjoy go-go boys, plus many other delights that apps and the digital world just can’t offer. But why? Numerous articles decry gay hook-up apps for “killing gay bars,” but it’s an explanation that seems too easy. One estimate says that between 2005 to 2011, the number of LGBTQ bars and clubs dropped 12%, from 1,605 venues to 1,405 nationwide. More than half of London’s gay bars and pubs have closed in the last decade. In August of 2016, Tel Aviv, Israel, had closed down “its last gay bar.” Earlier that February, the legendary Hong Kong nightclub Propaganda closed its doors after 25 years.
The month before that, Fusion Waikiki, an LGBTQ-friendly nightclub in Hawaii, announced its closure after nearly three decades.
Barely a month before that, Washington, D.C.’s biggest gay nightclub, Town Danceboutique, announced it would close within the year. A few weeks prior to that, Purr Cocktail Bar in Seattle closed, as did The Bridge Club, a gay bar in Vermont that had only recently opened. In 2017, BJ’s NXS, a gay strip bar in Dallas, closed down after eight years in the same location. It’s where many older members of our community saw their first drag show, danced with their same-sex partner or attended their first political rally.īut despite the vital role that bars have played throughout the modern LGBTQ movement, each year seems to bring more news of gay bars closing. Well into the ’80s, ’90s and ’00s, gay bars provided libations and liberation for many queer people. But even before its patrons finally rebelled against the cops in 1969, certain bars across America had become a political meeting place where LGBTQ people could drink, dance and forge a community amid the dangerous and unaccepting world.