Eldritch Mlems

October was LGBTQ History month thanks to a history teacher from rural Missouri. Rodney Wilson made history in 1994 when he came out as gay to his St. Louis high school classroom, not far from where he grew up in rural Potosi, Missouri.

Wilson didn’t plan on coming out to his students that day. But while explaining the pink triangles used to forcibly identify queer people in concentration camps during the Holocaust, he felt compelled to tell his students that had he lived there at that time, he might have been marked with one too.

Wilson’s coming out sparked backlash in Missouri and across the country. But Wilson remained firm in his efforts to humanize himself and his community, going on to establish a nationally recognized month commemorating LGBTQ+ history.

He was not alone then, nor is he now. Across the state, queer Missourians–teachers, historians, journalists, and ordinary people–have fought for decades to document and preserve the stories of their peers, elders, and ancestors that would otherwise be erased or unheard. The people continuing the fight are speaking up about why it matters more than ever.

Nightlife is, for many, an escape from reality, a place to commune and dream outside the confines of the chained-to-capitalism ultramodern lifestyle. For others, stepping into a warehouse at night and re-emerging into a cold sunrise is an entire life: an art, a practice, an income, a career. And while nightlife continues to thrive in major metro areas like New York City, the people making these hot, sweaty outings possible — artists, bouncers, bartenders, technicians, the list goes on — are often left out of the social guardrails and services made available to the 9-to-5 crowd, especially if they’re queer. In a 2018 study by NYC’s Office of Nightlife, more than half of respondents cited a lack of benefits as a major obstacle to working in nightlife; this number jumps to 80% for artists and entertainers.

The Queer Nightlife Community Center (QNCC, colloquially pronounced “kink”) seeks to fill in these gaps. Now open in Brooklyn’s Brownsville neighborhood, the QNCC is exactly what it sounds like: a nonprofit dedicated to serving queer and trans artists and nightlife workers. QNCC is at once a physical space, a creative organization, and an ethos. Its physical home is a sprawling 15,000-square-foot, two-story warehouse in East New York, a space ripe with potential.

Disclaimer: The scar has nothing to do with this gentle kitty.

Bonus 1: Nappy nappy

Bonus 2: Photogenic boi

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This is how cats attempt to will their ~~humans~~ staff to bring them wet food.

@e.r.a.arts

Bandit likes to survey everything from on top of the scratching post every morning.

The Codex Astartes approves this crossover.