Superqueeroes - OutWrite Newsmagazine (Winter 2019)

Est. 1979

6-7: The Snowglobe Escape Artist

4-5: Who to Turn To

Why are superheroes so prevalent in pop culture?

“In a small town on the edge of civilization, one girl shattered the glass. She came to UCLA and she came out.”

8-9: 5 Queer Disney Heroes

Why all your favorite characters are queer

12-13: Trans Heroes through History The ones your textbooks never taught you about.

10-11: Canon Identities

You know that they are hiding their Secret Identities, but what other identities are these Marvel and DC heroes hiding?

14-17: Queer Bodies in Art Exploring taboo sexualities in queer art from four 20th-century artists.

18: Knight in Purple Hair

The last person I expected to stand up for my sexuality was a purple-haired stranger...

title graphics by Saachi Kotia illustrations by Kelly Vines layout by Andrew Evans

SHAY...

This edition of OutWrite Newsmagazine is inspired by superheroes, fictional, historical, and personal, who inspire us. As queer or LGBTQ+ identified individuals, many of us resonate with the ways in which superheroes often have to hide their identities and present multiple facets of themselves.

In this print, you will find personal narrative stories about everyday heroes, queer interpretations of fictional characters, and depictions of admirable figures throughout history. Through these pieces, we recognize and celebrate the diverse identities and experiences that have shaped this print, and OutWrite as a whole.

Thank you to everyone who has supported OutWrite and its endeavours as we enter our 40th year as a newsmagazine. We are grateful to the LGBT Center on campus for being such a valuable resource for us and the campus community as a whole.

We are so appreciative of every OutWrite staff member’s hard work and dedication that allow us to continue releasing publications for our communities. All the incredibly talented writers, editors, graphic designers, layout designers, and photographers who contributed so much to this print are the true heroes.

With love, Shay & Jasper

JASPER...

written by Natalie Finander illustration by Angela Zheng, layout by Cami Miceli It’s important to have someone to look up to – an older brother, a parent, or a teacher, for instance.

Having a role model or “hero” that one aspires to be like is essential in discovering who we really are.

Recognizing a quality you admire in someone else will help you discover what kind of qualities you want to emulate.

But what about superheroes? Do those costumed, masked, superpowered beings perform the same function as a beloved mentor? Would they not be a better role model because they can literally save the world?

I believe the answer is no; superheroes don’t replace the non-fictional heroes we encounter throughout our lives. However, the purpose of a fictional hero is just as important, for in their extreme abilities, they show us the extremes of kindness, patience, and love. They choose the right way over the easy way and inspire us to do the same. And, perhaps most importantly, superheroes show us how to use power and difference for good.

My two favorite superheroes growing up were Martian Manhunter and Wonder Woman. Martian Manhunter, aka J’onn J’onzz, is an extremely old, extremely powerful Martian known as “The Last Son of Mars.” His powers include super strength, 04 | OutWrite, 2019

super speed, flight, telepathy, mind control, and shape shifting. Superman once called him “the most powerful man on Earth.” He had a wife and two daughters on Mars, but they died along with the rest of the Martians in a terrible war.

J’onn isn’t my favorite superhero because he’s so powerful, but because of what he chooses to do with all of that power. Despite all of his tragedies – losing his wife, losing his daughters, being the last member of his race – J’onn is kind and eventempered, both in the comics and in other media.

He is the epitome of the gentle, silent giant: he has the power to crush you with a single hand or even a single thought, but he chooses instead to be calm, protective, and compassionate. J’onn could conquer the Earth with little effort in an act of rage because of his lost planet. What he actually chooses to do, however, is protect the weaker humans from ever facing such a tragedy as his. J’onn taught me how to turn pain into love and suffering into purpose.

Wonder Woman, or Diana Prince, doesn’t have the tragic backstory of J’onn J’onzz, but she shares his ability to decimate mankind. Raised on the island of Themyscira, homeland of the all-female warrior Amazons, Diana took up the mantle of Wonder Woman when she donned her now-famous armor

and left her home to fight the forces of evil. Diana’s strength rivals that of Superman, and her skill with her Lasso of Truth and bullet-blocking bracelets make her a formidable fighter.

In some versions of Diana’s origin story, once she leaves Themyscira, she can never return. In effect, she left her mother, her friends, and everything she’d ever known in order to help humanity. J’onn was forced to come to Earth, but Diana chose to help us instead of staying home, where she was safe and loved. In the 2017 movie Wonder Woman, she even had a moment of weakness and told Steve Trevor that she made a mistake in leaving her home, and that mankind wasn’t worth saving. But after watching Steve sacrifice himself, she decided that there was hope for humankind and remained in our world as Wonder Woman to continue fighting for good. Again, a person with godlike power who could just as easily forsake the Earth as save it decided that the possibility of helping the human race was better than returning to her life on Themyscira.

This pattern can be seen for virtually every superhero created. Superman could have razed the Earth without breaking a sweat. Batman could have turned into a murderer from grief over his parents.

Captain America could have overthrown the U.S. government if he ever disagreed with what they asked him to do. Iron Man could have continued making weapons of war instead of technology for peace. Spiderman would have made an excellent

thief with his abilities. But the important thing is that they didn’t: they all chose to fight for good, for humanity, for us. These heroes show us how to accept ourselves for who we are, inspire us to stand up for what’s right, and demonstrate how to turn what could be a source of pain into a reason to help.

It doesn’t matter what kind of powers you have or what circumstances you came from – it only matters what you choose to do next, and superheroes can be the guides that help us choose the path of the righteous.

None of us would have these role models without the real humans (writers, illustrators, and editors) who created them. No matter what the stories tell us, superheroes owe all of their might, courage, and power to regular, flawed, human writers. Their true “origin stories” are that they were created by ordinary humans. But though superheroes may have been formed from humble human imagination, they are still the necessary role models that society needs.

Writers are an integral part of society. Since the time of fairy tales and folk stories, humans have relied on others to give examples of good triumphing over evil, of the virtuous defeating the wicked. In the modern age, this very important role falls at least partially on comic book creators, and at least in my case, they have succeeded in inspiring me to be the best person I can possibly be.

And, to one of the greatest writers of our time: rest in peace, Stan Lee. 05

Her arms were linked lightly about her lover’s neck, her head drawn forward, the better to hear her lover’s words or speak her own. The figure opposite her was bathed in shadow – dusk had drawn across the western world quicker than usual, it seemed, dragging murky coattails in its wake – and so, perched on a stone outcropping, the lover was obscured.

Forced to pass by them on my way to some destination of critical import, I drew closer and closer.

And it was then that the niggling little insight, bouncing about at the back of my brain, always just out of reach, whispering wicked accusations, pointed out just what it was that was amiss.

Before me were two hers.

All of this, of course, transpired over the course of a few seconds, as I tramped briskly down the sidewalk, a package filled with cat food and Botan rice candy nestled under my arm.

I saw them. I drew closer. I took stock of the beauty in their intimacy. Then I saw them. And I looked away. I walked past. I forgot.

written by Faith Twardzik illustrations and layout by Zoë Vikstrom It was something about the way they held each other.

They were in another world, where the unrelenting banality of everyday life had been whittled away to nearly nothing, drowned out by the deafening white noise of their lover’s embrace. It was in the way one pair of hands perched lightly on her lover’s waist – not so lightly as to suggest hesitation, or the crossing of some line in the sand marking what level of intimacy they had yet to reach. No, it was another sort of light touch, a touch that preempted not only a promise of more, but also a reminder of what was. A reminder that these fingertips had held between them this waist many times before. There was a sort of tenderness, familiarity even, in the gentle touch that no heavy-handed, lust-infused embrace could have ever emulated. It was an embrace that said, “I can touch you like this because at least for this solitary, frozen moment in time, you are mine and I am yours, without condition or exception.”

It was stark. It was an omission from the norm – a landscape writhing with debauchery, corruption, youthful ignorance and inconstancy. It was beautiful.

But something was amiss.

One lover’s hair glowed ghostly blue under a waning moon, cropped close to her head and bleached the whitest of whites. The wisps danced a willful little jig, the wind their unpredictable puppeteer.

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1,714 miles east of here lies a little town in a snow globe.

Civilization is a mystery, because the denizens there are quite content with their little lives. Perhaps the town’s foundations are shaky, perhaps it lives under the constant, battering pressures of the East and the West and the city, the absurd concepts of tolerance and identity and fluidity and freedom that those liberal hubs seem to preach with such excess. But the little people in this little town don’t let those finicky social experiments bother them – why fix what isn’t broken? Why test again a system tried and true? And so they live on, their minds closed, too content in their bliss to realize their ignorance.

That’s where I grew up.

But I tapped the glass. I shattered a piece, just large enough to fit through. I slipped away. I came here and I came out.

Because this is nothing like that place.

Palm trees glitter against an empty sky, rolling mountains cloud the northern horizon, the sun’s rays warm your skin even in the depths of autumn, the moon dawns pink in the face of ash-laden clouds and billowing, blackened smoke. Nowhere is there the striking chill of November in Chicago, the oaks and maples fiery, light snowfall layering the ground in white.

But there is much more to the contradiction than climate.

Without pomp and circumstance, without grand gestures or appeals to uniqueness, the people here are completely, irrevocably themselves. I’ve seen masculine figures in vivid frocks, strutting down the sidewalk, scarves flung around their necks, eyeshadow a complementary hue. I’ve seen feminine figures in blazers and high-tops, their hair cropped to the base of their necks, their poise colored by nothing less than absolute swagger. I’ve seen formless figures thriving as a synergy of two extremities – shaved heads yet red lips, androgyny in every

feature, high heels yet a low voice – not for the sake of style, but for the sake of identity. I’ve seen everything in-between, on a spectrum wider and more fluid than I could have ever imagined.

And it’s absolutely amazing.

You can chalk it up to whatever you like – perhaps the unrestrained diversity in gender identity and sexual orientation here are simply a result of the temperate climate and laxness, the devil-may-care Californian coastline culture. Perhaps it has something to do with the ethnic diversity, acceptance of which naturally transferred over to sexual orientation. Perhaps it has something to do with being in such a blue state, where liberal ideology always seems to be at the forefront of the social and political scene.

But to say that the sheer diversity here is a result of any of those factors, I think, is horrific oversight. It prevents us from realizing that the boldness here is not about making a statement. It isn’t about art. It isn’t about social commentary.

It is, quite simply, about nothing other than being yourself.

This place was built by the people who sought nothing more than to be themselves, in whatever vibrant versions.

The dauntlessness of those who came before us is the sheer foundation upon which we now live freely. They built this place into a safe harbor for those following in their footsteps. They – all those who are themselves without recourse or remorse, accepted without seeking acceptance – are my heroes.

The air here is different. It isn’t so fragile, nor so charged with the fear of stepping on a landmine and blasting your reputation into little flying chunks. The air here is warm. Nonchalant. Free.

I breathed this air for a few weeks and something strange occurred. I met an amicable fellow freshman in a dining hall. We talked and talked and talked some more. He said he planned on joining the Lavender Health Alliance, because he’s gay. I said I had applied to OutWrite because I’m bi.

I realized it was the first time I’d said those words out loud.

I wondered why it had taken me so long. Then I remembered a patched-up crack in a far-away snow globe. I remembered boys in heels and girls in blazers. I remembered bleached hair in the dusk and a featherlight embrace. And I knew that I didn’t simply have personal growth to thank for my overdue epiphany.

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written by Cami Miceli graphics and illustrations by Kit, Carmen Ngo, and Nieves Winslow layout by Saachi Kotia

ALTHOUGH the conversation about queer-coded Disney characters is not new — with fans often speculating over the identities of villains such as Ursula, sidekicks such as Timon and Pumba, and villainous sidekicks such as LeFou — there are seldom any Disney heroes that get their identities broken down in a similar way. Following is a brief list of my personal favorite theories.

REMY from Ratatouille (2007): Am I really going to die on top of a hill shouting that the rat from Disney’s Ratatouille is gay? Hopefully nothing so extreme. But I do believe his story as a rat who cooks is a cohesive analog for being queer. The story follows Remy from his rural home to Paris, where he finds an unlikely friend in the clumsy busboy Alfredo Linguini. The two strike up a partnership that allows Linguini to keep his job and Remy to finally achieve his dream of being a proper chef. From the getgo, the film portrays Remy as different from the other rats, and he never feels as though he truly belongs. In fact, one of Remy’s most criticized traits is the way he walks — on two paws, instead of all four. This is similar to how some straight people believe there is a recognizably gay walk and how some queer people feel pressured to tone down their stereotypical behaviors around straight audiences. Another commonality Remy shares with many members of the LGBTQ+ community is a close friend with whom he can be himself. In the movie, this person takes the form of his brother Emile, as Remy narrates, “[Emile] doesn’t understand me, but I can be myself around him.” Yet aside from Emile, his one ally, the only way the rest of Remy’s family accepts his culinary inclination is when he actively serves them as poison-checker. This is similar to the way some people only tolerate the queer community when they can be commodified — as with the early 2000s show Queer Eye for the Straight Guy — and it immediately casts Remy as a character with whom queer folks can identify. Next in the film, Remy leaves his intolerant family for the big city, where he can finally express the part of his identity which his family sees as deviant: his desire to be a chef. This is not unlike how real-life cities have historically given queer people both community and anonymity, allowing them more freedom than the usual small town or rural area. Finally, the ending provides our queer hero with something many LGBTQ+ folks can only dream of: a home that accepts all aspects of their identity. In the end, his family unites to help save the day, and Remy’s dream job. Thus, while many people find Ratatouille to be an especially inspiring film, thanks largely to its themes of creation and self-determinism, folks in the LGBTQ+ community can find additional hope in its narrativization of a queercoded protagonist who, ultimately, is not forced to choose between two halves of himself.

RILEY ANDERSON from Inside Out (2015): Inside Out is a unique film that tells the story of a twelveyear-old who has just moved from Minnesota to San Francisco, explaining all her actions through personified emotions within her head. A popular theory that has circulated since the movie’s release suggests the protagonist, Riley Anderson, is transgender, based on the different genders of her emotions. While it can be argued these characters are genderless beings, Joy, Sadness, and Disgust have more feminine designs, while Anger and Fear both come across largely as men. Some may say they were only designed this way to make for a more diverse cast, but the fact of the matter is every other character whose emotions are shown possess a single, constant gender across the board. For instance, Riley’s mother has exclusively female emotions, and her father has exclusively male. While the variety of genders within Riley’s head did not play any significant role in the film itself, it has led fans to theorize Riley will go on to question her gender identity in the future and will possibly discover she is genderfluid. Coincidentally, the name Riley is typically presented as a unisex name, seen by heteronormative society as fit for a person of any gender.

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MERIDA from Brave (2012): When Brave came out in 2012, it broke many stereotypes of Disney princess movies by telling the story of Merida’s relationship with her mother, as opposed to with a love interest. In fact, the film blatantly crushes any possibility of a royal romance when Merida declares she will compete against her suitors for her own hand in marriage. While it is wonderful to look at Merida’s refusal of all three male suitors and headcanon her as a lesbian, another wonderful theory speculates she could be both aromantic and asexual. This is evidenced when Merida expresses she doesn’t feel ready to get married, followed by the thought she might never be ready.

Furthermore, Merida’s entire personality suggests romance is not a major concern in her life; she is much more interested in exploration and adventure. If she had her way, the story would likely contain no romance at all, reflecting how some aro-ace folks feel about media in general. Lastly, as an archer, the pun of Merida being aro-ace is just too good to pass up.

VOYD from The Incredibles 2 (2018): The much anticipated sequel to the 2004 Disney film, The Incredibles 2 follows the Parr family as they fight to make superheroes legal again, by teaming up with other super-powered individuals. One of these wanna-be heroes is named Voyd, and many people have headcanoned her as gay, trans, or both, with good reason. Her opening dialogue introduces her as an avid follower of Elastigirl, who is herself lauded by fans as a lesbian and/or bisexual icon. Voyd goes on to explain she used to feel like an outcast, but now she can take inspiration from Elastigirl’s publicly being herself. This powerful sentiment resonates with many queer viewers, who often look to out-and-proud figures for encouragement in their daily lives. Not to mention Voyd herself has been compared in terms of appearance to Kristen Stewart, who isn’t set on labels but has proclaimed herself to be “very gay” and has dated women as well as men. Additionally, it is commonplace to express identity through unique hairstyles, especially within the queer community. Voyd fits the bill perfectly with her asymmetrical, bright blue hair. This is another reason why so many LGBTQ+ folks feel a connection to her as soon as she appears on screen.

It seems her charismatic appearance reflects a queer identity — and whether this identity is gender-related, sexuality-related, or both, remains up to audience members to decide.

LI SHANG from Mulan (1998): Mulan, a tale about a woman impersonating a man to join the Chinese army, is a fan-favorite film within the queer community, as so many aspects of it can be seen through a genderfluid lens. Although there is a lot to be said about Mulan’s gender, I would like to emphasize instead the bisexuality of her love interest, Li Shang. There are fans who shrilly defend Shang’s heterosexuality and claim he only feels attracted to Mulan once he knows she’s a girl. Yet her gender isn’t revealed until two-thirds of the way into the film, at which point a large portion of Mulan and Shang’s bond has been solidified. Indeed, I would argue Shang was falling for Mulan as early as the end of the “I’ll Make a Man Out of You” sequence, when he stares at her in open admiration for her newfound physical prowess. Then, even after Mulan’s big gender reveal, Shang is shown to remain relatively calm and composed, visibly disquieted but still dedicated to ensuring Mulan’s safety. Certainly, it would be difficult to argue Shang saw Mulan in a more positive light upon learning she wasn’t a man. Moreover, Shang’s role as a bisexual icon is more relevant than ever, as recent news has confirmed he will not be making an appearance in the upcoming live-action remake. Many fans feel they are losing positive representation this way, and I agree the movie will be hard-pressed to make up for the absence of this iconic hero.

IT IS important for queer folks to see themselves represented positively in popular media, after decades of being reduced to harmful stereotypes and cannon fodder. Although Disney has yet to design a canonically queer hero, there is constant hope the company will soon make history. Until then, I encourage fans to continue making their own representation wherever they can find it, by projecting their own experiences onto characters and making the Disney fanbase a more welcoming place.

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written by Jasper illustrations by Kit and Vi, text graphics by Saachi Kotia, layout by Vi and Nick CW: mentions of violence, transphobia Though many bigots like to claim being transgender is a new trend, trans people have always existed. In a society that has continually failed to acknowledge, recognize, and grant basic rights to trans folks, particularly trans people of color, just existing is heroic in itself.

Chevalière d’Éon was a French diplomat, spy, and soldier. Although d’Éon’s gender has historically been shrouded in mystery, it appears likely that she was a transgender woman. D’Éon became involved in the civil service through family connections and, in 1756 rose to the role of secretary to the French ambassador in Russia. This position, however, was a cover for le Secret du Roi, “King’s Secret,” a network of spies created by Louis XV to advance his country’s agenda by putting French leaders in other countries. Despite an initial increase in political authority in Britain, where she was spying, d’Éon was fired for disrespectful behavior, such as ordering too much expensive wine. In retaliation, she published a scandalous book on her spying work from her Secret duties, making her somewhat of an infamous celebrity in Europe. Meanwhile, King Louis XV kept paying d’Éon covertly to continue spying in Britain and not publish any more of these inflammatory books. When the king died, his son decided to do away with le Secret. French officials then negotiated with d’Éon and came up with a plan for her to return to France. For years, rumors had been spreading about d’Éon’s gender, and when asked, she stated she was female. The French government agreed to bring d’Éon back in “women’s dress” and claimed d’Éon was assigned female at birth but had been forced to dress up as a man to serve the king, to undo her reputation as a trickster and traitor. In 1777, d’Éon returned and was presented as a woman to society and welcomed as a heroine. Although she embraced womanhood, she was no longer allowed to continue on as a soldier or have any political influence. Scholars debate about whether d’Éon’s femininity was a personal or political choice, but she spent much of her life aligning herself with womanhood.

Alan L. Hart was an American radiologist, researcher, and transgender man who dedicated his life to tuberculosis research. He spent much of his life travelling to change the stigma around tuberculosis and assist those who had it. In addition to his work in science, Hart wrote four novels and numerous short stories, all reflecting his personal experiences.

His pioneering achievements are remarkable considering the transphobia he faced from the society around him. During college, he engaged in multiple relationships with women. In 1918, after he became the first documented recipient of gender reassignment surgery, he lived as a man and relocated often to avoid discovery of his assigned sex of birth. Despite having to frequently change locations, his tubercular research cemented and revolutionized the use of x-rays and other medical technology for the detection of tuberculosis, which was significant for the decline of the disease.

12 | OutWrite, 2019

Lou Sullivan was an activist and gay, transgender man who fought to remove the requirement of heterosexuality for trans men to physically transition. Much of Sullivan’s early life experiences are known due to a diary he kept from a young age, where he expressed, “I wish I were a boy.” He was born in Wisconsin, but in 1975 moved to California to live openly as a gay man. It was difficult for Sullivan to physically transition because at the time, gender professionals thought of gay men and trans men as completely separate groups, with heterosexuality as a requirement for diagnosing gender identity disorder.

Sullivan fought against the American Psychiatric Association and the World Professional Association for Transgender Health to recognize gay, trans men.

His activism also involved outreach and counseling: he helped many transmasculine people access mental health support, hormone therapy, and gender reassignment surgery and wrote a guidebook for trans men. Sullivan died of AIDS, which he referred to as a “poetic justice.” As AIDS was “still seen at this point as a gay man’s disease, it kind of proves that I did do it and I was successful.”

Tracey Norman is a model and activist; she is one of the first Black, transgender models in America. In 1975, Norman followed a group of models into a casting call for Italian Vogue, auditioned, and was booked for a shoot. This launched her career, leading her to secure a contract with Clairol. She became the face of their hair color box for No. 512, Dark Auburn, which was the bestselling box for several years. In the 1970s, she modeled with Essence magazine, but in 1980, she was outed as transgender. Norman believes this was the day her career ended, because she had difficulty finding work after. In the meantime, she made a living at Show Center, a burlesque peep show in Times Square. She earned the titles of “icon” and “legend” for her work with LGBTQ+ youth of color in the ballroom community, with the rank of “mother” in the House of Africa. Although Norman believed her modeling days were over, after New York Magazine ran a cover story on her in 2015, Clairol reached out to her again. In 2016, at the age of 63, Norman became the face of Clairol’s “Color As Real As You Are” campaign, bringing her story full circle. She says, “I was reminded that I made history and I deserve to have it printed.”

In 2018, a 52-year-old Puerto Rican transgender woman, who the courts refer to as Jane Doe to maintain her anonymity, issued a lawsuit against the Massachusetts Department of Correction, which placed her in a men’s prison. Jane Doe has been openly living as a trans woman for 40 years. In her lawsuit through legal organization GLAD (GLBTQ Legal Advocates and Defenders), she described her experiences of being groped by male guards during strip searches, having to shower with male inmates, and being harassed and misgendered constantly. Although she is still incarcerated in the men’s prison, she won her case, and a federal judge has ruled that prison officials in Massachusetts may only use female guards to strip search transgender women and must station guards outside when they’re showering to prevent other inmates from entering. This is a groundbreaking case that will hopefully incite further progress against transmisogyny, violence against transgender women and transfeminine people, in the prison system.

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written by M.D. Cabot layout by Shay Suban CW: mentions of suicide, sex Special thanks to the Tom of Finland Foundation for supplying me with some of the more hard-to-find illustrations. You have been a wonderful support team. Much love to Durk, Sharp, Marti (+ Cleo), Dan, Louie, Toni, Marc, and the rest of the team!

Some call Tom of Finland the daddy of gay culture. He’s engineered a central motif: the leatherman — one that has stuck itself to the core of the hypermasculine gay identity. This fetishist archetype has had enormous influence on queer identities and communities.

For years, many critics have believed that Tom’s “dirty drawings” — as he liked to call them — are distasteful or too explicit, but it is important to recognize that his images changed the gay community’s self-image.

Tom, born Touko Laaksonen in 1920, had many influencers that helped him to shape his stylized, intensely sexualized and fetishistic drawings. Raised in the southwestern Finnish countryside by a pair of schoolteachers, he was neighbor to farmers, loggers, and other male laborers: the first major inspiration for his illustrations.

His first crush was a muscular farmhand (“Urho,” meaning hero) on whom Tom began to spy when he was just 5 years old. If not for Lady Godiva, I would have thought ‘peeping Tom’ was coined

by Tom of Finland!

After moving to Helsinki in 1939 for art school, big city life exposed Tom to a melting pot of masculine beauty; he took an 14 | OutWrite, 2019

interest in drawing sailors, policemen, and construction workers.

Life in a capital meant more cruising spots for Tom, but before he could settle in completely, he was drafted for WWII in February, 1940. He served as second lieutenant as an anti-aircraft officer until the war was over. It was the army that solidified Tom’s fetishistic and artistic interest in uniformed men. The period that followed the war saw a rise in biker counterculture, from which he borrowed many ideas: leather, motorcycles, heavy boots.

Inspired by artists like Etienne and George Quaintance, Tom’s style was also intensely macho. He was eager to represent gay men in a hypermasculinized form, having only been exposed to the limited stereotypes of gay men as effeminate and flamboyant.

Camp style was present in early representations of 20th century homosexuality, but not everybody resonated with it. Tom’s art gave way to an alternative that many gay men sought out. Both scenes are essential to the queer community; they illustrate that human behavior is inherently performative in nature, bringing in various styles and trends that remain enormously popular today.

When the war was over and Tom returned to regular life, he returned to the popular cruising spots he’d once explored. Jay Green’s 1980s thriller, “Cruising,” with Al Pacino reveals to the public a fundamental part of gay history — one that is often taken for granted nowadays. Cruising has been reshaped in today’s era, largely due to hook-up apps like Grindr, SCRUFF, Jack’d, Daddyhunt, and the rest. The system and culture of cruising had an immense influence on Tom’s work and is a central theme in many of his images.

It was while cruising in 1956 that Tom met Veli, his lover for the following 28 years. Around that time, a friend suggested that he submit his art to an American beefcake magazine. Bob Mizer — an acclaimed artist and photographer — was on the receiving end of Tom’s postage and instantly adored what was sent. After seeing Tom’s nom de famille on the letter, he created “Tom of Finland” to ease the American audience. Mizer’s first feature of Tom’s work was on the front cover of Physique Pictorial’s Spring 1957 issue.

In the 1960s, Tom conjured up Kake, a favorite character that would dominate his comics — in more ways than one! Kake served as an exemplary model for his growing fascination with dom/ sub power dynamics, as well as trends and behaviors associated

with such themes. Usually dressed in leather or denim, he’s in great physical shape, has dark hair, and sports a quintessential mustache famous among gay men — think of Queen’s Freddie Mercury.

By the 70s, his highly masculinized and fetishized homoerotic art had mainstream appeal. Tom’s first exhibition was in Hamburg, 1973. All but one of his images were stolen; the experience was so horrifying that his next show was not until 1978. This time, he would be presenting his art in a Los Angeles gallery, a gay haven compared to the rigid heteronormativity of his life back in Finland.

Life in the U.S. compelled Tom so much that he hosted a string of exhibitions across Los Angeles, San Francisco, and New York. He became friendly with heroes like Etienne and Robert Mapplethorpe (celebrated photographer), who helped him organize his first major show. Tom was quickly becoming an international sensation and partnered with Durk Dehner.

Together, they co-founded the Tom of Finland Foundation here in Los Angeles.

By 1981 the AIDS epidemic was beginning to take full effect. In Finland, Tom lost Veli to throat cancer — which encouraged him to spend more time in LA. He rotated his time so that he spent half of the year in his home country and the other half in California. In the late 80s, Tom was diagnosed with emphysema, which put an end to his travels. A stroke related to the illness ended his long life in 1991.

Though Tom’s art is met with mixed reactions, his legacy boldly lives on through his fans across the globe. The Foundation is deeply devoted to their educational archive, which is dedicated to collecting, preserving and displaying Tom’s art.

Tom of Finland’s work has been selected for the MoMA’s permanent collection; inspired a fashion line in 1995; and led to a store, museum, stamp collection, countless exhibitions, books, and articles. In 1991, a video biography illuminated him once again. A 2017 biopic brought his personality and life to the big screen for fans to enjoy. Harvey Miller, who selected the images donated to the MoMA said at the time of his contribution that “Tom of Finland is one of the five most influential artists of the 20th century. As an artist he was superb, as an influence he was transcendent.”

Sam Steward was on track to live out his days as a respectable, highly-acclaimed author and scholar. Fresh out of college, he had already landed a teaching job and received appraisal for his book of poems and first novel. Sam could have easily achieved considerable literary recognition as a great author of his generation, but was a little sidetracked by A) alcoholism and B) his sex life.

Though not known as widely as Tom of Finland (though they did meet!), he deeply influenced both gay popular culture and counterculture. Steward was born an Ohio native in 1909 and grew into a professor, writer, tattoo artist, pornographer, and sex researcher. As an intellectual, he was fascinated by a number of topics but dedicated his life to art and gay pulp fiction. Before committing to a world of erotica and tattooing, he taught as a fellow at Ohio State University. His academic advisor introduced him to Gertrude Stein, who quickly became his choice mentor.

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She described Steward as “motherable” many times, and frequently invited him to stay at her vacation homes in the French countryside. It was here he met a string of notable writers: Thornton Wilder, Thomas Mann, André Gide, and Lord Alfred Douglas (Oscar Wilde’s lover).

Steward recovered from a 19-year-long addiction to alcohol in 1949. The same year, he crossed paths with sex researcher Alfred Kinsey, whose name was on everybody’s lips at the time.

According to The Lost Autobiography of Samuel Steward, he became an “unofficial collaborator” after an initial interview that lasted over five hours. Kinsey was particularly impressed with Steward’s extensive sex records, which he had actively collected since his earliest sexual encounter. The alphabetized “stud file” — as Sam had titled it — provided Kinsey with a counterpoint to the government’s aggressive prosecution of queer people. In other words, here was a box full of evidence that gay people existed… and flourished! Prior to the 1950s, the only public or mainstream acknowledgment of homosexuality was limited to police record and scandalous headlines.

When the new decade eventually rolled around, Steward made the transition from English professor to tattoo artist, in an era where it was a questionable and sociably objectionable profession. Tattooing meant interaction with hustlers, sailors, bikers, and street thugs. He went by the name Phil Sparrow, so as not to be associated with his explicit material or his professional works.

At the same time as Tom was submitting to Physique Pictorial — a legal publication that branded itself as encouraging health and fitness — Sam began to contribute to Der Kreis, a Zurich-based homophile, underground magazine, using the pseudonym Ward Stames. He released essays, poems, and reviews to the magazine so frequently that he began using the nom de plume Phil Andros in the 1960s. A good portion of his visual art and stories were focused on sadomasochistic sex. Like Tom, he had a fetishistic interest and fascination with power dynamics between men, particularly BDSM. Before moving out of Chicago, Steward befriended beefcake photographer, Chuck Renslow — who created the International Mr. Leather competition — and his partner, Dom Orejudos (the autonym of the artist, Etienne).

G.B. Jones is a Canadian artist who has been active since 1980. Besides drawing, she is a writer, filmmaker, and musician.

In 1990, she and Tom of Finland collaborated by hosting an art show together, providing audience members with an interesting contrast. Jones has shared her erotic art in galleries across New York, and in 1996, a book with her artwork was released to the public. Although copies are distributed throughout the States and Europe, Canada pronounced it banned after copies were seized by the Canadian Border Control.

In the 80s, G.B. Jones and Bruce LaBruce co-founded and published J.D.s, a punk zine that the latter referred to as “softcore… for hardcore kids.” Though the acronym originally stood for

Steward, having trained under master tattooer Amund Dietzel, became a leading artist throughout the 50s onwards. In the late 60s, he was introduced to the Hells Angels motorcycle gang and became their official tattoo artist. He mentored respected tattooers Cliff Raven and Don Ed Hardy when the profession was still relatively taboo.

Over the years, Sam donated hundreds of Polaroids captured at sex parties, his 900 index cards from the Stud File, and numerous sexually themed materials to the Kinsey Institute. His collection brings to life the queer identities that hid within years of intense prosecution. Steward’s fearlessness in a time of ruthless repression makes him a hero unlike any other.

Juvenile Delinquents, LaBruce also explained that James Dean and J.D. Salinger were influencers for the title — thanks to their role as lesbian icons. The zine, featuring G.B. Jones’ art, ran from 1985 -1991 and released 8 issues. Jones nicknamed her series, “Tom’s Girls” — borrowing from Tom of Finland’s drawings and fetishistic style. Her illustrations illuminated LA’s punk scene and other subculturally identified women.

Jones did more than just influence queer women in the same way that Tom and Steward did queer men. Though she influenced similar notions of athleticism, fashion, and role-playing, Jones was groundbreaking because she earned recognition for women’s queer identities. Like Tom, she explored roles of power, but unlike Tom, her authority figures are present only so they can be rejected. Jones has undoubtedly had a major influence

Title image and Sam Steward images retrieved from An Obscene Diary: The Visual World of Sam Steward, Tom of Finland images retrieved from Retrieved from Tom of Finland: Retrospective II, G.B. Jones images retrieved from My Gay Eye, a Tom of Finland Foundation special, Steve Masters images retrieved from Physique Pictorial (1961), used with permission from the Tom of Finland Foundation.

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on lesbian and bisexual women by illustrating girls in variable positions of strength that tear apart stereotypes.

Perhaps unfairly, the women featured in this article are outnumbered 3 to 1. I could write a dissertation on queer artists of all genders. I have, however, made the unfortunate decision to reduce this conversation for the sake of simplified understanding.

G.B. Jones is groundbreaking, as she contributes an essential female perspective on taboo sex and art.

Like the other artists featured, Mike Miksche was an artist who highlighted hyper masculine characteristics, tattoos, and BDSM, but was entirely unique in style (notice the theme: taboo sexuality).

He is seldom talked about, perhaps because he went under the name of Steve Masters (S.M.). His illustrations presented here interpret the rigour of prison life. Alfred Kinsey prepared “an arrangement,” as Sam Steward explains in his autobiography.

“He asked me to fly down from Chicago, and from New York [Kinsey] invited a tall mean-looking sadist, Mike Miksche, with a crew cut and a great personality.” I should note, as did the editor in Steward’s book, that “a great personality” suggests for a little reading between the lines — meaning, he had a nice cock.

During this time, Kinsey become increasingly interested in sadomasochism (s/m) — a recurring theme in all of the artists noted here — and invited Steward and Miksche to partake in an s/m film together.

When Miksche was enlisted by Kinsey for sex research, he’d already undergone a transition from working as a flight captain to a freelance artist, passionate about fashion and producing ink drawings for the blossoming s/m audience. His art was featured in Physique Pictorial issues from 1961 to 1963, as well as beefcake magazine: BIG. Miksche’s story was sadly cut short. An acquaintance described him as openly gay and “a wonderful man.” Unfortunately, after numerous attempts to live a heterosexual life — even getting married — he committed suicide in winter of 1965.

Mike’s ending is painful, but a reminder of the liberties queer folks have in the 21st century. Tom, Steward, Jones, and Miksche all worked hard — whether consciously or not — towards uncovering taboo sexualities. Each, in their own right, brought an acclaimed, intellectual, and boundary-breaking perspective to gay liberation. Their art brought queer communities together by providing individuals with a common identity. Ultimately, they are heroes of the 20th-century western world, to whom we owe continuous commemoration towards for remaining so true to themselves during times of intense systematic queer oppression.

Though notoriously controversial, Tom continuously made a point to draw his men as happily gay. He was passionate about changing the negativity that surrounded the gay identity — the assumption that all gay people are unhappy and self-loathing.

Thanks, Daddy!

The art they have shared with us demonstrates that the overt and explicit nature of gay art has given our community a sense of openness, whereas straight or conventional erotica is caught in a never-ending cycle of furtiveness and shame. Understandably, such provocative art doesn’t agree with everyone, but it undeniably has had a major impact on gay liberation and has offered queer people a genre of behavior and style that has united many individuals. Their art is worked into our history — it cannot simply be ignored but must be revisited frequently so that we may pay tribute to the heroes who revolutionized aspects of the queer community.

KNIGHT IN

Purple Hair written by Rhea graphics by Ian Haliburton layout by Alex Modiano, Angel Coronado

It was a lazy Thursday morning, and I was completing my Chemistry homework at school. Mallika sat next to me, helping with the calculations. With our heads huddled together and our concentration allowing nothing but equations in its radius, we were blindly unaware of the gradually increasing chatter in the class. A collective jeer had been bubbling up for quite some time now, and by the time we realized its magnitude, it was too late.

“Can you girls just stop with all the PDA?” someone shouted in our direction.

We looked up, clueless. It took us a couple of seconds to realize our relationship was under fire.

“It’s none of your…” Mallika tried to deflect the bullet, but was silenced by laughs across the class. She tried to speak again, but she couldn’t be heard over the chaos anymore.

The taunts had multiplied — it seemed like everyone had been holding in an irrational homophobic discomfort, waiting to seep out all this time.

I burned red with fury, but I knew nothing I said would make a difference now.

Mallika held on to my hand firmly, ensuring I didn’t act wildly.

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“It’s okay,” she kept whispering to me. “It’s okay.”

It wasn’t okay to me. I wanted to shout over their laughter. I wanted to ask them what was so wrong with loving someone unconditionally. I wanted to walk out of class and never come back.

Before I could act on any of my raging thoughts, I heard someone in the crowd roar, “STOP IT, YOU ALL.” It was one of my classmates, someone I barely talked to.

Someone who barely knew us. She took charge of the situation and whisked the people away from us, threatening to complain to the teacher if anybody tried to rebel.

I didn’t really get to thank her — I was too muddle-headed that day. I simply looked at her with eyes full of tears and a smile full of gratitude.

That day I realized not all heroes wear capes, but instead sport braces and messy, purple hair. Not all heroes are celebrated publicly — some are forgotten in small classrooms. And not all heroes are born a hero: some are simply heroes because they choose to be.

This is for all those friends who protected us from dirty eyes, all those relatives who stood up for our happiness, and all those strangers who didn’t mock us as we held hands. Heroes are often just humans who acted human when nobody else did.

Cover Illustration Table of Contents Title Graphic Letter from the Editors Illustrations Who to Turn To The Snowglobe Escape Artist 5 Queer Disney Heroes Canon Identities Trans Heroes through History Queer Bodies in Art Knight in Purple Hair Back Cover Photo

Kit, Saachi Kotia, Angela Zheng Saachi Kotia Saachi Kotia, Kelly Vines Natalie Finander Faith Twardzik Cami Miceli Jeanine Lee Jasper M.D. Cabot Rhea Kai Huang

Contributing Editors

Authors

Copy Editors

Content Editors

Angela Zheng Cami Miceli Jasper John Solan Kai Huang M.D. Cabot Sarah Jensen Shay Suban

Cami Miceli Faith Twardzik Jasper M.D. Cabot Natalie Finander Rhea

Alexis Wistanley Angela S Cami Miceli Natalie Finander Sarah Jensen

Cami Miceli John Solan M.D. Cabot Patricia Montgomery Fernández Shannon Kasinger

Graphics, Illustration, and Photography

Layout Designers

Angela Zheng Carmen Ngo Ian Haliburton Jeanine Lee Kai Huang Kelly Vines

Special Thanks for Graphics, pg 14-17

Alex Modiano Andrew Evans Angel Coronado Cami Miceli Kelly Vines Saachi Kotia Shay Suban Vi Zoë Vikstrom

Kit Nieves Winslow Saachi Kotia Vi Zoë Vikstrom

Tom of Finland Foundation

OutWrite is published and copyrighted by the ASUCLA Communications Board. All rights are reserved. Reprinting of any material in this publication without the written permission of the Communications Board is strictly prohibited. The ASUCLA Communications Board fully supports the University of California’s policy on non-discrimination. The student media reserve the right to reject or modify advertising whose content discriminates on the basis of ancestry, color, national origin, race, religion, disability, age, sex or sexual orientation. The ASUCLA Communications Board has a media grievance procedure for resolving complaints against any of its publications. For a copy of the complete procedure, contact the publications office at 118 Kerckhoff Hall.

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