When Being Out Doesn't Get You In

"How beneficial to the queer community are reject-on-sight policies designed to keep out straight people?"

Feature by Cate Simpson | 12 Mar 2007

Queer club nights face an awkward dilemma. On one hand, organisers don't want them to be overrun with straight people who've come to gawk at the spectacle of girls kissing. On the other hand, they don't want to be so cautious in their admission that they end up turning away gay people because they 'look straight' - whatever that means.

Clubs in Edinburgh have chosen to tackle this problem in various ways. Up until recently, Velvet laid out a very specific policy on its flyers and signs, advising that gay men were welcome if accompanied by a 'gay girlie guest'. A spokesperson for Velvet, however, asserted that these were intended only as guidelines to inform client'le of what to expect, and that they had no policy of refusing entry to straight people. Nobody I spoke to reported difficulties gaining admission, and more recently, the club has rewritten its publicity material to say that it's a night for 'gay girlies and their LGBT & S friends'; new club Zeus, aimed primarily at men, does likewise. "Velvet does not discriminate or exclude," said the spokesperson, "it's moving towards a more tolerant, open-minded world."

Few bars and clubs make their entrance policies quite so clear, however; a shining example being CC Bloom's. The scene is rife with tales of the establishment's choosiness over who to admit: many have been told it's "regulars only" when they try to enter. One woman said, "Despite my assertion that I was a regular and had been in the night before, they only let me in after deliberating for several minutes over my BLOGS [Edinburgh University's LGBT society] card."

Nobody at CC's was available to elaborate on their policy, but certainly no membership scheme exists there and if you've ever had to fight your way to the bar in CC's on a Friday night, you will appreciate the unlikelihood of the bouncers identifying all the regulars by sight.

The Polo Lounge in Glasgow seems to operate a similar reject-on-sight policy. Several women reported being turned away, one of whom arrived holding hands with her male flatmate and was again told "regulars only." The Polo Lounge's management was also unavailable for comment. So are such policies creating safer spaces for LGBT clubbers, or spaces that are no less oppressive than straight clubs?

The problem is that if club organisers want to prevent their LGBT patrons being outnumbered, harassed or gaped at by straight tourists, the most obvious way of doing this is just to turn away straight people, which serves to alienate straight friends and allies from the beginning. But, short of demanding that people announce their identities at the door, the only way for bouncers to distinguish between desirable and undesirable client'le is by appearance. The inevitable consequence is that stereotypes of what it is to be gay can be reinforced by the spaces that were originally created for us to freely express our identities - if we choose to identify as anything at all. If having long hair suddenly means you're not gay enough to dance with the other lesbians, then where is there left to go? And what message is this sending to the queer community?

What we need to ask ourselves is whether we want to promote self-identification; fluidity; the freedom to express our sexuality and gender in any way we choose, or whether we want to categorise, label and narrow ourselves down to ever smaller groups. Are femme women going to have to establish their own spaces, in the same way that bears and leathermen have established their own? Certainly the creation of spaces catering to specific sub-groups can be empowering and valuable, but if this becomes their only option then these elements may become invisible to the majority. The community will become divided by difference instead of united behind its common interests, and ultimately the progress of advancing those interests will suffer.

These exclusive admission policies, whether enforced or merely suggested in big bold letters on the door, end up creating spaces that welcome only a select portion of the community. Often bisexual men and women are, if not turned away by the bouncer for showing up with their straight partners, made to feel unwelcome once inside. A bisexual woman who told me that she never brings her boyfriend to LGBT spaces because of the looks and comments they encounter, said: "In single-sex spaces I feel like I am only able to express half of my sexuality." If you bring your mixed-sex relationship into a queer space, you risk facing the sense of betrayal you would expect if you brought a leg of lamb to a vegetarian pot-luck.

A predictable response to these complaints is that there already exist numerous spaces where bisexual people can go with their partners, but this is to impose a passing demand: if you are in a gay space, you must pass as gay; if you are in a straight space then you must pass as straight. For bisexual people this means that there is nowhere they are permitted to express the entirety of their identity. A straight club that welcomes gay people so long as they don't bring their partners or 'flaunt' their sexuality would not be regarded as truly welcoming.

The introduction of new legislation prohibiting discrimination in the provision of goods and services on the grounds of (perceived) sexual orientation may have interesting repercussions in areas like these. Since CC's and the Polo Lounge do not publicise their own policies, it is unclear whether their practices will change, or whether hopeful patrons will continue to be turned away for bewildering reasons. At least under the current laws there is the opportunity to advise customers what to expect, as Velvet has chosen to do.

This dilemma is a difficult one to solve. Creating a safe space for a frequently oppressed minority means keeping out those elements of the majority that would threaten that safety. But everyone has different ideas about how exclusive LGBT clubs and bars must be to ensure their purpose is preserved, and where lines should be drawn – if at all - about who gets in and who doesn't. If that decision is an arbitrary one based on appearance, then we may end up with an atmosphere that is welcoming to a few, and extremely unwelcoming to everyone else.