The opening paragraph in and of itself is horrifying... I'd rather cut out my tongue than walk through the streets of Boston yelling, "Our pussies united will never be defeated!" But the quote from this marcher is ridiculously embarrassing:
"Allison Christiansen was clearly feeling the spirit of the women's liberation era evoked in this year's Dyke March theme. Christiansen, who lives in Boston, loves gay men 'to pieces,' but added, 'I also like to have a woman's space. And to know that we have so few bars and we have so few places to go and things to do that seem to be specifically lesbian ... I think it's really cool to have something where we're not just gay; we're dykes and we're lesbians and it's like we're being sort of a combination of the whole women's movement,' Christiansen explained.
'I sort of feel, like, that bra burning feeling,' she laughed. 'Not exactly like I want to burn a bra, but I feel, like, that sisterhood with those women: Here we are doing our thing, doing our thing for women and lesbians and sex everywhere.'
WTF????? "Here we are doing our thing, doing our thing for women and lesbians and sex everywhere??" My how noble of ye you bold, brave inarticulate asshat.
The personal is still political
From baby dykes to dykes with babies, Boston women march with a message
By Laura Kiritsy
Boston Dyke March 2003
If it's difficult to envision a raucous throng of lesbian, bisexual and transgendered women chanting "Our pussies united will never be defeated!" in the middle of the Boston Common on a dreary Friday evening, you've obviously never been to a Boston Dyke March. It was, perhaps, the defining moment of this year's march, which descended on downtown Boston June 13.
Since 1994, the march has been an unabashed celebration of sex, pride and politics; a seamless blend of the feminist mantra of the 1960s and 70s, "the personal is political." Despite a persistent drizzle and unseasonably cool temperatures, more than 500 lesbian, bisexual and trans people - and a handful of men - loudly took an updated version of that message into the darkened streets of the city: This year's Dyke March theme was "The Personal is Still Political."
"The personal is still political, even in the rain. So we're here to celebrate our right to be queer," poet and playwright Letta Neely told the crowd at a pre-march rally at the Boston Common Gazebo, where signs emblazoned with such slogans as "The only Bush I trust is my own," "Trans girls rock my world" and "Variety is the spice of dykes" were hoisted alongside umbrellas.
Allison Christiansen was clearly feeling the spirit of the women's liberation era evoked in this year's Dyke March theme. Christiansen, who lives in Boston, loves gay men "to pieces," but added, "I also like to have a woman's space. And to know that we have so few bars and we have so few places to go and things to do that seem to be specifically lesbian ... I think it's really cool to have something where we're not just gay; we're dykes and we're lesbians and it's like we're being sort of a combination of the whole women's movement," Christiansen explained.
"I sort of feel, like, that bra burning feeling," she laughed. "Not exactly like I want to burn a bra, but I feel, like, that sisterhood with those women: Here we are doing our thing, doing our thing for women and lesbians and sex everywhere."
"Absolutely," agreed her friend Jaimi Davis, also of Boston. Davis has attended a handful of local dyke marches including the inaugural event nine years ago. "I think the first one was incredible because it drew such a huge crowd," she recalled. "... But I think it was a little less political which I'm more inclined to appreciate. I think the best part about all of this is us just being together and just being visible without an agenda. I think us being us and being out is enough personally," said Davis. "All the other stuff is great, too."
Christiansen, who also attended the first Boston Dyke March, also admits that politics isn't the only thing that keeps her coming back each year. "I also like to see all the girls, especially when it's warm and sunny and they're topless, that's always a good thing," she laughed.
Matie Fricker of Boston called the Dyke March the best part of Pride week. "I wouldn't miss it for the world," said the 24-year-old, who was attending her third Boston march. "Because it's political and it hasn't sold out to big companies, and it's still incredibly queer and empowering."
So what does she like best about the event? "The women," Fiicker responds without hesitation. "All kinds. That's the best part of the dyke march, is that women who you wouldn't traditionally meet in a bar or a club are here; families and kids and also hot butch studs."
In past years, the Boston Dyke March hit the street at Copley Square and headed straight down Boylston St. to the Common. But this year's Dyke March cut a much longer swath through the city: Exiting the common at Boylston and Charles streets, the march snaked down Beacon, Arlington, Clarendon streets and Commonwealth Ave. before landing back at the gazebo for post-march performances by bands Zili Roots and Secret Cock.
Though the soggy weather was hardly ideal for test running a longer Dyke March route and the crowd was just one-third the size of last year's, the march retained its characteristically high volume: The cacophony of drums, chants, bells, hoots and hollers echoed across the Common long after the last dyke had trailed out of sight as the march swung onto Beacon St.
Perhaps their enthusiasm was a direct result of the nasty weather that likely kept so many people at home. "Anybody can march on a nice day," Neely pointed out as marchers prepared to hit the road. "Anybody can go out there and be like, the sun is shining, take off your shirts and chill out and be beautiful. But right now it's important that we go out there and march in the storm because we're under a storm right now with this administration," said Neely, who earlier in her remarks blasted the effects of budget cuts to GLBT youth programs and other social services. "They are trying to fuck with us and it's now more important than ever to let them know that even with Bush, even with Mitt Romney, we are here, we're queer and we're going to be here forever."