The bear & leather communities have a big racism problem

“The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth.” -African Proverb

Bear and leather communities are subcultures within the broader LGBTQ+ community. These communities typically house groups along the lines of heavier body size or sexual/erotic interests. While these communities uplift people who normally exist outside mainstream queer culture, they often have their own internal politics, where some face discrimination based on their skin color.

Related:

The asexual community has a racism problem. Let’s talk about it.

“It’s time to speak up and do better,” writes asexual activist Yasmin Benoit.

Many articles and scholarly works have documented these concerns. However, missing in alot of these conversations is the role that financial incentives play in motivating LGBTQ+ businesses to maintain their environments. While I acknowledge that racial prejudice and discrimination are hard to address institutionally, I argue that LGBTQ+ businesses and organizations ignore racism and continue to maintain racist attitudes because they financially profit from this discriminatory system. But there are strategies to hold these institutions accountable.

Racist roots

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While bear communities celebrate heavier bodies, leather communities focus on an aesthetic derived from Tom of Finland and sexual kinks, and these communities have a history of contentious race relations. For example, bear communities have Facebook groups that have explicitly denied entry to communities of color, and the community has been called out for normalizing uncomfortable experiences for people of color. 

Leather communities are similar. In conjunction with various microaggressions, leather communities tend to privilege whiteness in various customs of the community that are grounded in racism, including some sexual fetishes.

During my year running in the International Mister Leather (IML) contest (the most prominent leather contest in the community) in the 2016-2017 cycle, an anonymous author penned a piece in 2016 discussing how the leather community historically marginalizes communities of color. The article responds to discourse in which some members of the leather community have expressed how “playing the victim” along the lines of race, gender, and other attributes weakens the group’s “gene pool” within the leather community. What’s more, the person quoted saying that was granted Top 20 status at International Mister Leather (IML) in 2017. LGBTQ Nation reached out to IML for comment but did not receive a reply. 

It is important to note that leather contest winners are chosen based on how judges interpret the producer’s agenda. In protest, when this person was named Top 20 during that contest, I froze in shock because I was in disbelief that those kinds of values were being upheld. I then walked off stage because that pronouncement did not reflect my anti-racist values. 

While that contest has since diversified its winners, contestants, judges, and some of its messaging, especially after the death of its founder Chuck Renslow, the ethos remains that whiteness is valued in these spaces.  Furthermore, when I visited the Tom of Finland Foundation in Los Angeles, California in 2014, I saw that the door to its playroom (a place where sexual/kink activity occurs) contained white supremacist symbols like SS bolts, swastikas, the acronym “WPWW” (White Power World Wide), and the Valknut.  

When reached for comment about the Nazi iconography, especially the swastikas in leather imagery, the Tom of Finland Foundation told LGBTQ Nation, “Tom of Finland Foundation is both an art museum and historical archive. Some artifacts in the archive may not be suitable for public exhibition without proper historical context and are stored away from public view. Tom of Finland Foundation renounces Nazism and anti-Semitism in all its forms, just as Tom of Finland publicly did.” 

In other words, they imply that leather culture has a historical context from Nazism and that there have been elements of White supremacist culture within leather communities (The artist Tom of Finland, himself, claims to have hated Nazi philosophy but had a fetish for men in Nazi uniforms). The organization mentions the idea that these values have a “historical context,” but fail to mention that there is also a contemporary context. Thus, white supremacy is embedded throughout both bear and leather communities; however, it is important to note that these communities generate hundreds of thousands of dollars in revenue each year and are core parts of the gay tourism industry.

Paying to be disrespected

My own experiences underscore the notion that these communities thrive on maintaining their environments. In 2018 at a leather bar in Long Beach, California, a bartender forced a towel over my head and said I “look like a Muslim woman.” He then had leather community members bully me by threatening consequences if I were to go public with the story. Interestingly, these “community members” fundraised at the same bar roughly a month after the incident. 

In 2023, I attended an event called the Big Bear Romp, which was supposed to be an event inclusive of gay men of size. Inclusive of the admission price and hotel, this event nearly cost me $500. On the first day, at the meet and greet, I introduced myself to someone, telling them my name is Ali. The person responded, “Like Ali baba?” Then he started to introduce me to others as Ali baba. Immediately, I left that situation.

Knowing that I could not leave the event because I had paid half a thousand dollars, I eventually went to the event organizer to voice my concerns. One of the producers responded, “Well at least he was trying to introduce you to other people.” I responded, “This is not appropriate.” He doubled down, “At least he was trying to introduce you to other people.” I responded again, “This is not appropriate.” And then he said, “Well, let me go talk to him.” At that point, I already felt like this person would not help me, and that he didn’t seem to understand where the concern was. So I just said “This is just to make you aware” knowing that there would be no recourse.

Discrimination at this event did not stop there. At one of the major parties, I introduced myself to another person. He started to sing, “Prince Ali,” the song from Aladdin. Immediately, I just became exasperated. However, his own friends turned to him to reprimand his behavior. While it was a good gesture to know at least some people thought it was wrong, it did not prevent the incident. I was essentially paying to be in an environment where people disrespected me because of my race. I was supposed to suck it up and enjoy myself regardless because apparently, my feelings did not matter.

When reached for comment, Big Bear Romp provided a somewhat combative response:

“We appreciate you reaching out, and are VERY surprised (especially given that it is 3 months later) there’s any accusation of any racism or discrimination at Big Bear ROMP weekend. We strive, as an organization, to provide a very inclusive, open and welcoming environment, which you can see is reflected clearly in our FAQ, under the question asking who should attend. Moreover, we’ve been asked our position on lesbians and trans people attending, and our response is always the same: EVERYONE is welcome. In fact, this is the first time (in 8 years of running this event) that this complaint has been brought to us.  You can also read our reviews, where attendees have remarked how pleased they are that the weekend is so friendly, welcoming and inclusive.” 

They then addressed my specific complaints:

“Perhaps your question stems from your personal experience this year at our event, which was communicated directly to me from my co-organizer.  I understand very well that you weren’t happy with an attendee using another last name for you that isn’t your name. As you’ll recall, the co-organizer of the event offered to speak to that offender directly, as we do not tolerate any harassment, racism or discrimination of any kind, and you politely declined. This incident occurred at the very first event of the weekend (Thursday), and you were observed having a great time the rest of the weekend.”

In essence, they tried to make it look like the organization did what it could and that the harm that there was no harm done because I supposedly “had fun.”

I replied and explained that the co-producer gave me a tone-deaf response by suggesting that the person in question was trying to introduce me to other people. I explained that this situation should not have happened regardless of the time I had. The team followed up with, “Your perspective means a great deal and we’re glad you reached out.  It is through this kind of discourse that these situations are brought to light and resolved, and we sincerely appreciate you bringing it to our attention.We strive to create an environment that is inclusive, and it is unfortunate that the actions of some individuals have the potential to leave one with a negative impression of the whole experience.Again, thank you for your perspective and willingness to share your thoughts and feedback.” 

 To be clear, this is not about whether or not I had a good time because for the duration of the event, these incidents weighed heavily on me. I had no other recourse because I would have lost a substantial amount of money if I had left. I was clearly not protected by the event, and, with no allies, I had no support other than online friends. Someone made the argument that affinity groups and support groups should exist at events, but even these groups that supposedly protect minorities have been known to fail in doing so. 

The role of minority groups in sparking change

In 2022, Touche, a leather bar in Chicago, held an event where a puppeteer’s act featured a performance mocking Black women. Many called the performance a racist caricature wrought with stereotypes. In response, ONYX, a leatherman of color group, issued specific demands (which were taken down from their website, but reposted by another source). The demands included firing the manager who allowed the performance to take place and establishing an event review committee. Ultimately, after a couple of town halls, the movement dissipated. LGBTQ Nation asked the group about pulling down the list of demands and not seeking collective action. It did not receive a response.

As of now, Touche is fully operational, has retained the manager, and continues to profit. ONYX officially cut ties with the bar on 12/10/2023 because it has “taken no action.”

The organization has significant visibility within the leather community, yet none of its demands included a picket line or a call to engage in collective action – which could cost the bar or community financially. 

Furthermore, based on the group’s demands, the organization did not appear to call for a collective boycott or for other organizations to condemn similar behavior. This despite the fact that the organization and its members are generally aware that this kind of prejudice runs rampant within the community. They could have seized the moment, created a call for collective action, and forced other leather organizations and contests to sign off on a statement that forced leather events to adopt zero-tolerance policies across the board and to create sanctions on individuals and organizations in the community. By limiting their actions, not only did the bar’s manager continue on, but they also allowed the bar to continue to profit.

There are several reasons why minority groups could possibly fail to hold businesses and events accountable for their transgressions. On the most basic level, these groups could fear legal and other forms of retaliation. Oftentimes, people of color lack the financial resources to litigate. However, when people of color do litigate, they can win necessary gains.

Likewise,  people of color may be reluctant to counter racism if they fear community backlash.  Power is used to maintain the system by discrediting whistleblowers. Also, some groups might lack financial resources, so if they begin to ask for monetary repercussions, these groups risk alienation. Others might consider boycotting, but these boycotts don’t generally last, and they are performative at best. Many times, marginalized communities are used to abusive behavior. They simply fall in line and suffer the mental health consequences. They also can turn on one another because, within the system, they’re used to receiving small amounts of approbation (like staff positions, contest wins, and other forms of approval) that motivate them to continue to exist in the system.

At the end of the day, by failing to hold businesses and events accountable, marginalized communities are complicit with racists.

What real accountability means

Continuing to allow businesses and organizations to discriminate against people of color in queer communities ultimately maintains a system where people of color are second-class citizens. We lose the ability to exist in queer spaces. The only way to begin to prevent racism and discrimination within these communities is to begin to hold business owners and event organizers accountable for their actions. This can possibly take several forms. The first form of action ensures that business owners and event promoters are held accountable for any negative situations that happen on their premises.

By accountability, I mean key staff need to be fired for any wrongdoing; event promoters need to be banned and blacklisted, or offenders need to be escorted off the premises regardless of if they’ve paid for an event.

If these actions are not taken to address wrongdoing, individuals need to establish picket lines and call for boycotts of offending institutions. Furthermore, similar institutions or promoters need to sign onto public documents that condemn harmful actions against people of color and work toward harder-line policies that maintain a respectful environment for people of color. If they do not sign these documents within a specific timeframe, then they too should be boycotted. People in the respective communities should question promoters and establishment owners about why they did not choose to help marginalized people and they should be held responsible for nonresponses. Finally, larger organizations need to impose sanctions on community groups that temporarily bar offending community groups. To be clear, this advocates and community organizations to be banned from participation in larger events for at least a year, regardless of whatever actions are taken to address the situation.

Truthfully, I fear retaliation writing this, and I feel like this article may be be framed in ways that will continue to demonize me, my reputation, and possibly threaten my physical and financial well-being, and these communities might try to find ways to punish me for speaking up, including smear campaigns and other forms of abusive actions. But with years going through these kinds of abuse, I feel like I must speak out to stop these events from happening to myself and other people, to share my story to the fullest, and to tell my truth.  I am by no means perfect, but experiences like mine are all too common. 

As victims of racism, we continue to push back against it, but we are often tasked with the burden of having to hold our experiences without any support. When there is support, often, this support is fleeting and does not lead to lasting change.