Gay Old Girls

"Tell me a story, grandma!" Remember saying that as a kid? Well, in Gay Old Girls, our lesbian grandmothers tell us stories--lots of stories about what it was like to be a lesbian in 1930s Chicago, during World War II, in the 1950s suburbs, and during the various revolutions of the 1960s. GAY OLD GIRLS is an important work of lesbian history without the obscurity of academic language and analysis. The women interviewed in this book tell their stories simply and eloquently, speaking of self-discovery, coming out, work and life experiences, lovers and enemies. The nine women profiled here speak of universal experiences: love lost and found, happiness and betrayal, work and play. But they also allow us a glimpse of experiences that are no longer part of everyday life, like gay bar raids, stricly enforced codes of butch/femme behavior, and the shadowy world of secret signals and friendships. By opening a door into a largely hidden past, Gershick has done a great service, and an even grater one by allowing the women to tell their fascinating stories themselves. GAY OLD GIRLS is immensely readable and will have you laughing at some stories and near tears at others. My main wish on closing this book is for a companion volume of oral histories for the gay old boys.

I've read this excellent book twice now. The personal narratives in this fine collection are sometimes wistful, sometimes amusing, but always compelling. Zsa Zsa Gershick's expert interviewing skills and sense of humor keep these interviews clipping along. Even though some of these pieces are quite sad in places, ultimately they are inspiring: Many of these women have been to hell and back, but they are all stronger for the wear. This is must-reading for younger generations of lesbians--and anyone who's interested in a good story. Pick up this book: You won't be able to put it down.

Gay Old Girls by Zsa Zsa Gershic is a gift not only for the lesbian and gay community, but for anyone who dares to peek at its bold, moving, and frank stories. Zsa Zsa Gershic interviewed nine amazing women ranging in ages from 60 to 85 who opened up and shared what it was like to come out and love women in the 1920's-1960's. The stories are full of the exhilaration and wounds that come with love, and the pains and joys of courageously rejecting heterosexuality. The stories are about the power of the closet, leaping out to the world (and arms) that awaited these women, and the need for gay establishments which provided a (sometimes) safe respite from the often hostile outside world of churches, work, the military, and more. Like many "good women" who followed the societal rules of the time, many of these women had husbands and children before coming out (e.g.reminding us of Adrienne Rich's article entitled "Compulsory Heterosexuality"), yet there were also those who never dated a man. There were classic stories of boisterous butches with hair slicked back and fashionable femmes who waited to be asked to dance at the bar, but there were also those who wrote steamy lesbian novels and never stepped foot into the "scene." One woman found the love of her life one day during a gynecology exam--others traded love away after years of being together. Some didn't meet anyone for a long time and had a simple light bulb go off as to their sexuality as they did their hair one day in the mirror. A few women seemed to slide through life untouched by the difficulties that life can easily amass, while others struggled immensely with their loved ones moving, having surgery or cancer, leaving them for other women or men, or even killing themselves. But all of the women have something in common--they all display a remarkable resilience and hope, coupled with a profound integrity to be themselves. These lives reveal lesbian history in an up close and touching way that is a refreshing departure from thick historical or academic texts. It is filled with wisdom, humor, tears, and humanity. Go ahead--pick it up and allow these Gay Old Girls to tell you their stories--you won't be able to put it down.

"Again, there was no place to go but the bars."It is a clear, sunny day in Los Angeles. My steaming cup of coffee, prepared by the dyke behind the counter, waits on her next lesbian customer as I move past the crowd to a small table outside this lesbian-owned coffeehouse in West Hollywood. The book before me, Zsa Zsa Gershick's "Gay Old Girls," seems to underscore the distinction between lesbian lives of the past and the one I am living today. Not only were bars the only venues where lesbians could meet in the not too distant past, but finding these bars required determination and a particular longing to be among one's own.The elderly women whose stories come alive on the pages of "Gay Old Girls" are humorous and sad, poignant yet titillating, tragic but true. From informant Margaret Kennedy's personal account about the dearth of lesbians in San Francisco in 1940 (she could not find a single one!), to the bawdy tales told by some others about P-Town through the 1950s, we learn about growing up lesbian in the 20th century beginning around the 1930s. Gershick, a lesbian journalist, provides her readers with an intimate account of the challenges faced by the nine lesbians she interviews in the twilight of their golden years. One by one we discover how each of these women came to embrace their sexuality, despite and in spite of the myriad of obstacles laid before them. At the tender age of 14, Murial W. read 1940s psychology books seeking confirmation about her strong feelings for girls. Rather than corroboration however, she finds that not only was homosexuality considered inherently sinister, but thought of as a male-only domain. In the spirit of Audre Lorde's "Zami," whose biomythography highlights the bars scenes intrinsic to lesbian city life, the women in "Gay Old Girls" describe for us the ways in they came to recognize each other. Pinky rings and jade wedding bands were clues to whether a straight-looking female was in the life or not. Since the heterosexual community served as the only role-model for how couples related to one another, femme/butch roles became the norm in lesbian relationships. The ladies in this book came out as lesbian through the post-Freudian decades when same-sex relations between women were suspect. Before Freud, according to historian Carol Smith-Rosenberg, lesbians engaged in "Boston Marriages," where professional women in the Victorian period could love and care for each other in peace. After all, the experts claimed, what could be the harm in two old maids sharing living expenses and companionship? Freud's ruminations about lesbians brought a halt to these safe arrangements and "single" women became targets for straight people's fear of homosexuality. Informant Trudy Genovese tells chilling stories about the "street sweeps" in New York during the 1950s where "anybody who looked different" were swept off the streets by police officers and remanded to jail for unspecified crimes

This collection allows us to visit with the kind of women we wished we could meet with when we were growing up and coming out, to get answers to the question 'what was it like when you were young?' from people who really knew. The women in this rich collection are drawn from a vast range of backgrounds and ages. Gershick takes care to invite us into these women's lives, with descriptions which really enhance the interviews which follow. It is comforting to know that some of the problems these women faced have disappeared forever, and to know that the search for love succeeded in conditions far harsher than we could know today. The style of the book makes you feel as if you a friend has taken you to visit with these very well-lived women; women who you won't forget. Time very well spent.