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Am Ende dieser Show fahren die Hauptfiguren (Korra und Asami) zusammen in den Urlaub und halten sich an den Händen, während romantische Musik spielt.

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Queerbaiting ist eine Marketing-Technik für Fiktion und Unterhaltung, bei der die Schöpfer gleichgeschlechtliche Romantik oder andere Formen der LGBTQ-Darstellung andeuten, diese aber nicht darstellen. Der Zweck dieser Technik ist es, das Publikum anzulocken.

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PinkNews - Gay news, reviews and comment from the world's most read lesbian, gay, bisexual, and trans news service

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Picture this: You're watching your favourite TV show, thrilled as your favourite same-sex characters draw near their inevitable union...

And then they don't get together. Instead they end up in-hetero-love - and you're forced to endure more straight couples, alongside the 74 current heterosexual twosomes.

Yep, you're a victim of Queerbaiting - a term which refers to authors, writers, or showrunners (etc) attempting to attract an LGBT audience by hinting at same-sex relationships between characters, though they're never actually consummated...

By adding homoerotic subtext or erotic tension between two characters, usually leads, LGBTQ audiences are enticed to tune in, unaware that there was never an intention to elevate the subtext to an actual relationship.

Bleugh.

Why is it called Queerbaiting?

If you've not figured it out already, it's called Queerbaiing because it involves attracting (baiting) a queer audience...

Yep, the powers that be use LGBTQ characters and relationships as bait, in order to appeal to the gay dollar and the queer views, without actually following through.

It's just enough to keep LGBT people interested, without having to really represent us.

No, not this type of Queerbaiting...

Urban Dictionary defines Queerbaiting succinctly as: "When an author/director/etc. gives hints, and clever twists to paint a character as possibly being queer, to satisfy queer audiences, but never outright says they are so they can keep their heterosexual audience."

However, it also defines another type of Queerbaiting as...

"When a politician, pundit, or other public figure brings up the completely irrelevant detail about a person's sexuality, true or untrue, as a way of subtly channeling homophobia to attack them."

Just to be clear, we're talking about the former nonsense, and not the latter.

y tho?
Related: 12 lesbian movies that you absolutely must watch
WHYYYYYY? Won't somebody please think of the LGBTQ children!

According to GLAAD's Where We Are On TV Report, in the 2017-2018 TV season, there were 901 main characters on broadcast scripted primetime programming, and 58 (6.4 percent) were identified as gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender and/or queer.

Like queer characters, queer viewers are a minority - and it's thought that Queerbaiting is a way of appealing to them without alienating their main audience, who may be uncomfortable with openly queer characters, or who may not care about them.

So, via Queerbaiting, writers and/or creators are able to appeal to the LGBTQ market, while avoiding any backlash from the strange homophobic market.

Except, of course, this has repercussions for the queer audience...

Some feel that a lack of real representation suggests that LGBTQ characters are second-rate and less worthy of decent stories. Others argue that Queerbaiting sends implies that queer relationships are less valuable, and more, well... farcical.

Queerbaiting on TV

In 2014, TV Guide argued that Supernatural has a Queerbaiting problem. The article stated: "Supernatural producers have undoubtedly profited from the Destiel ship [characters Dean and Castiel] and encouraging ambiguity in Dean's sexuality.

"As Cas and Dean's relationship took on more importance in the series (and became based more heavily on romantic tropes) in Seasons 8 and 9, the ratings increased."

The TV Guide article, via Oakridger, also argued that "Supernatural producers do not support canonical Destiel", "as the 200th episode made abundantly clear".

Other shows criticised for Queerbaiting include House (Gregory House and James Wilson), Merlin (Arthur Pendragon and Merlin), Once Upon a Time (Emma Swan and Regina Mills), Sherlock (John Watson and Sherlock Holmes), The OC (Marissa Cooper and Alex Kelly) and Rizzoli & Isles - whose writers and cast have actually admitted to playing up a lesbian subtext between the two leads, Jane Rizzoli and Maura Isles.

Fans also accused Riverdale - which features close friends Betty and Veronica - of falsely implying the two characters would get together after the pair kissed in order to seem risqué. (They were called out by other characters on the actual show for perpetuating that tired trope, too.)

queerbaiting in film (and theatre)
Related: The 12 best ever lesbian characters on TV
Queerbaiting isn't limited to TV, though - as writers of Harry Potter and The Curse Child discovered when they were accused of "reeling" LGBT fans in.

"The writers of the Cursed Child intentionally included this fan theory to draw us in, but decided to change it just enough so that they wouldn't have to admit that they made two 11-year-olds gay," LGBT campaigner Jameson Ortiz told The Guardian.

"It's queerbaiting because they knew exactly who they were reeling in and why, but still decided to leave out the main attraction for all the fans they hooked.

"Instead [they], like so many others, set up the gay romance, hint at it constantly, make it believable and deep and perfect, and then force it out of the story."

The live-action Beauty and the Beast adaptation also gave the LGBTQ community hope by announcing Lefou as the "first openly gay Disney character," with an "exclusively gay moment". It didn't exactly live up to expectations.

The Power Rangers reboot was supposed to feature a lesbian Yellow Ranger too, but her sexuality barely got more than a mention, while Ghost in the Shell, starring Scarlett Johansson, was accused of both white washing and Queerbaiting.

thank f*** for oitnb - and some other tv shows

Fortunately for us queers, there are a fair few shows feeding us more than insulting crumbs. If you're sick to death of Queerbaiting and being underrepresented, there are a number of TV series featuring complex LGBTQ characters, including The 100, Orange is the New Black, Jane the Virgin, Grey's Anatomy, Game of Thrones, The Handmaid's Tale, Orphan Black, and Pretty Little Liars.

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What you need to know about Queerbaiting

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Picture this: You're watching your favourite TV show, thrilled as your favourite same-sex characters draw near their inevitable union... And then they don't get together. Instead they end up in-hetero-love - and you're forced to endure more straight couples, alongside the 74 current heterosexual twosomes.

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"They (his students) try to set him up with a librarian, but it doesn’t work out. On the day of the wedding, Mr. Ratburn walks down the aisle arm in arm with Patrick, his partner."

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"Mr. Ratburn is married, I still can't believe it," Arthur says.

"Yup, it's a brand-new world," Francine responds.

The episode, titled "Mr. Ratburn and the Special Someone," was the latest moment in daytime television to include a more diverse set of characters as it kicked off the show's 22nd season. The series, which airs on PBS Kids and debuted in 1996, follows the adventures of Arthur, his classmates and his family.

"Sesame Street," a PBS mainstay, has also tried to become inclusive. In 2017, the show introduced Julia, a female muppet who has autism. In September, the internet exploded over the possibility that Bert and Ernie might be partners. In December, the show introduced Lily, a muppet who is homeless and living in shelters and on friends' couches.

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'Arthur' Opens Season With a Same-Sex Wedding and a Cake

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"Mr. Ratburn is married, I still can't believe it," Arthur says. "Yup, it's a brand-new world," Francine responds. The episode, titled "Mr. Ratburn and the Special Someone," was the latest moment in daytime television to include a more diverse set of characters as it kicked off the show's 22nd season.

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In diesem Cartoon gibt es eine Szene, in der sich Princess Bubbglegun und Marceline küssen.

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All this week, Cartoon Network has been premiering new episodes of the all-ages cartoon Steven Universe. The show - which centers on its eponymous hero, Steven, and the trio of magical space guardians who care for him as they protect Earth from alien invaders - has quickly eclipsed any notion of what "all-ages programming" can or should be, having built up some of the most complex characters and storylines on TV today. The show has elicited critical raves, and stands as Cartoon Network's first-ever animated series created entirely by a woman. (One who identifies as queer, to boot.)

But the show is also boundary-breaking for the way it portrays queerness; in fact, it may stand as the most progressive cartoon on TV in terms of queer representation. Steven, for example, is surrounded entirely by female superheroes, and often mirrors their feminine behavior. Even more, one of them is a fusion of two female characters who are in love, and another used to be in love with Steven's mom. The show has featured women in tuxedos, boys in dresses, and a non-binary person in whatever clothing they want, and all of it is celebrated.

Given its young audience, that's a pretty great thing, and it's easy to forget just how radical this remains in 2018. "[LGBTQ+] stories are not considered appropriate, are not considered G-rated content, and because they're not, they're kept out of media for kids," Rebecca Sugar, the show's creator, once . "And I think that that is profoundly sad." Just look to how the show has been received abroad: several scenes of female gems dancing with each other and kissing have been edited in the United Kingdom and other countries.

One of the ways Steven Universe portrays LGBTQ+ relationships is through "fusion," or when two "gems" fall in love and become one. For example, we've seen Steven and another character, Connie, "fuse" into a non-binary character (Stevonnie) who uses they/them pronouns. Early on in the series, we also learned that a character named Garnet is actually a fusion of two Gems known as Ruby and Sapphire. Garnet, therefore, is essentially a lesbian couple.

This week, though, things took a turn. In an episode titled "The Question," we learned that Steven's mother, Rose Quartz, lied to her chosen family, the Crystal Gems, about who she was and how she got to earth - she was once Pink Diamond, their nemesis, and the gem they thought they were fighting against. Since Rose was the first person to ever encourage Garnet to become one being, they feel their relationship was based on a lie. And so, sadly, Garnet splits once more into two beings: Ruby and Sapphire. Basically, Steven's mom caused them to break up. (And you thought IRL relationships were complicated enough.)

In the latest episode, titled "The Question," Ruby becomes a cowboy and roams the open plain, contemplating whether or not she wants to get back together with Sapphire. What she doesn't realize is that her "horse" is actually a shape-shifted Amethyst. During her travels, she sings a cowboy song about being alone, and she honestly makes a great buckeroo.

As the episode reaches its end, Ruby admits to Steven that she can't stop thinking about getting back with Sapphire and share her adventure with her. She pines to ask her to fuse into Garnet again, but more than that, she wants to acknowledge that she's more committed to being Garnet than ever before, despite the fact that their relationship has changed. Steven helps her come up with a plan to do just that.

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"Steven Universe" Is the Queerest Cartoon on Television

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All this week, Cartoon Network has been premiering new episodes of the all-ages cartoon Steven Universe . The show - which centers on its eponymous hero, Steven, and the trio of magical space guardians who care for him as they protect Earth from alien invaders - has quickly eclipsed any notion of what "all-ages programming" can or should be, having built up some of the most complex characters and storylines on TV today.

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Disney XD's "Star vs. The Forces of Evil"

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Disney XD's "Star vs. The Forces of Evil"

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Diese Szene zeigt zum ersten Mal in der Geschichte von Disney ein schwules Paar.

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"If the representations in question utilize humour, are queer people in on the joke or are they the joke?"

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"If the representations in question utilize humour, are queer people in on the joke or are they the joke?"

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"This is an important distinction to grasp and can sometimes be quite tricky depending on the media product under scrutiny. Ridiculous and humorous representations serve a wide variety of purposes and humour can often broach topics that would otherwise be too sensitive or difficult to deal with. That said, there is a difference between a humour that “Others” people and one that is inclusive."

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How things have changed in thirty years: more than ever before, queer people have a media presence. No longer relegated to the realms of innuendo and secrecy, we now see lesbians, gays, bisexuals, and transgender people represented on television and in mainstream film. Queer people see their reflections on screen in a largely positive light: stable, employed, charming, attractive, well-liked, and successful. And yet, there remain many challenges. The following sections will examine how media produces and legitimizes or delegitimizes queer sexualities, as well as how queer media differs from its heterosexual counterpart. To begin, though, it is worthwhile to examine the trajectory of queer media criticism over the past thirty years.

The first form of queer media criticism was articulated under a minority model of identity politics. This type of criticism has its roots in the gay liberationist movements from the 1960s through the 1980s and is heavily influenced by the types of issues gays and lesbians were concerned with at the time. Under this model gays and lesbians were seen as being subordinate to the heterosexual majority, with equality and acceptance hinging on their ability to show that they were "just like everyone else". As such, minority model criticism was particularly preoccupied not just with visibility in media, but with having the 'right' kind of visibility. This criticism was particularly concerned with negative portrayals of gays and lesbians as sissies, drag queens, butch lesbians, and other groups that didn't fit into mainstream gender categories. This model also assumed a certain amount of uniformity within the gay and lesbian community: that members shared similar characteristics relating to experiences, points of view, behaviour, desires, etc.

Over time, many Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender and Questioning (LGBTQ) and other sexual minorities people found earlier models of gay activism too narrow in focus. A major concern was voiced first by lesbians and then by gays and lesbians of colour, people with HIV/AIDS, and people of other sexual minorities. Their complaints were that the movement had, for the past twenty years focused exclusively on the concerns of gays who were primarily male, decidedly white, and overwhelmingly middle class. Another concern was with the focus of the early gay liberation movement on assimilation, which sought kinship with the heterosexual mainstream on the basis of similarities. While a gay man who appeared heterosexual could pass as straight and had the luxury of not being too "visible", this was not true of many other gays, lesbians, transsexuals, and those who for any number of reasons didn't fit the mold of the more socially acceptable gays. (After all, what good is acceptance within a group if that acceptance is predicated on one's ability to hide one's difference?) The movement had effectively silenced differing identities to the point where gay white men were able to complain about and take action against inadequate representations of themselves in the mainstream media, but other groups couldn't even hope to see themselves represented on television or in film. These critics adopted the term "queer" to describe themselves to reinforce the notion that they were all different even though they were joined in a collective bid for civil rights.

Under queer culture, notions of identity underwent a radical shift, from being seen as fixed and stable to more fragmented and layered. Thus queer people were not merely "queer" - they could be queer males or females or English or Italian or White or Asian or Black, factory workers, business people or bus drivers, and so on. Rather than looking at how homosexuality was marginalized, the criticism that came out of this - social constructivism - focused on how various social and cultural institutions (including the media) shape the realm of sexual possibilities. Instead of arguing that homosexuality is the binary opposite of heterosexuality, this model proposes that all sexualities are merely points on a continuum of possibilities.

These two models of criticism - sometimes complimentary and other times at odds with one another - have greatly informed how we look at today's media. In the sections that follow, it should become apparent that when dealing with LGBTQ media issues, we are not dealing with a single monolithic entity, but rather with diverse and varied identities and experiences that respond to media representations in different ways: what one group may consider fair, others may find oppressive. We will, in subsequent sections, explore how these two models of criticism interact together in order to tease out the hidden meanings in much of the media that describes queer people, their relationships with both queer and mainstream media, and their experiences in the world.

In addition to these models of criticism, key concepts for media literacy can also be used to analyze queer representation in media. These include the principles that:

1. Audiences negotiate meaning.

2. All media is constructed to re-present people, places and events.

3. Media contain ideological and value messages.

4. Media have commercial implications.

5. Each medium has a unique aesthetic form.

As we know, all media construct the realities that they present to their audiences. The images we see are representations that are often simplified for ease of consumption or tied to commercial interests. As audiences, we negotiate the meaning of these images and it is up us to interpret them for what they are. To help negotiate the meaning and ideological messages behind media representations of queer people, there are a number of questions we can ask.

1. Who created this media text? What is its purpose?
If all media transmit ideological messages, an important part of critical engagement is to identify the ideological position from which a given media text is being produced. A good place to start is to determine who created it. For instance, an ad produced by a company with a decidedly anti-queer agenda may have a much different intent than one from a company that is supportive of equal rights and queer empowerment.

2. Whose voices and interests are being represented? Whose are absent?
This is a very important part of critically engaging with media because it asks the question of who has control over meaning and identity. Is queerness being represented from its own perspective or is it being represented as it appears to an outsider? In either case, making clear the position from which they operate can go a long way to facilitating the interpretation of a given cultural text.

3. What do the images and narratives being deployed say about queer people?
Are the images and narratives you consume describing an entire subgroup of people or are they describing a single individual? Is the individual posited as an exceptional member of their subgroup and if they are, what is being implied about the group of which they are a part?

4. If the representations in question utilize humour, are queer people in on the joke or are they the joke?
This is an important distinction to grasp and can sometimes be quite tricky depending on the media product under scrutiny. Ridiculous and humorous representations serve a wide variety of purposes and humour can often broach topics that would otherwise be too sensitive or difficult to deal with. That said, there is a difference between a humour that "Others" people and one that is inclusive.

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How things have changed in thirty years: more than ever before, queer people have a media presence. No longer relegated to the realms of innuendo and secrecy, we now see lesbians, gays, bisexuals, and transgender people represented on television and in mainstream film. Queer people see their reflect…

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"Queerbaiting" ist eine ganz strategische Erfindung. Aber ist sie auch erfolgreich oder wirksam?
Warum versuchen alle zu zeigen, dass sie die LGBT+ community und deren Ursachen repräsentieren, wenn sie es eigentlich nur aus egoistischen Gründen machen?

Are we the  pawns in a game of profitability and politics and part of the mass media culture?

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When Taylor Swift released her video for You Need to Calm Down, it was satirical news site the Onion that delivered the funniest and most poignant response: "Taylor Swift Inspires Teen To Come Out As Straight Woman Needing To Be At Center Of Gay Rights Narrative".

The video, directed by Drew Kirsch and Swift herself, was designed to make a statement: it sees the musician parade around a campsite with a bunch of celebrity LGBTQ+ friends. There's a same-sex wedding, a drag pageant and a food fight - a parade of out and proud behaviour provoking the video's "redneck" protesters who hold placards with slogans such as "Adam and Eve not Adam and Steve". With cameos from Ellen DeGeneres, Laverne Cox, Jonathan Van Ness, Adam Lambert, Billy Porter and the crew from Queer Eye, it certainly brings out all the LGBTQ+ big guns. But as you watch them cavort around fulfilling gay stereotypes (tea parties for the gays, forearm tattoos for the lesbians) in a nauseating set, you wonder why they agreed to it.

For Swift, who until recently remained conspicuously apolitical as a pop star, this is a bold show of LGBTQ+ solidarity. At the end of the video, text appears, reading: "Let's show our pride by demanding that, on a national level, our laws truly treat all of our citizens equally," before asking viewers to sign her Change.org petition for the Equality Act.

However, the video has been divisive. Some have praised the singer's allyship, others have dubbed it a cynical attempt to win over queer audiences. Many are arguing about whether her hair in the video is "bisexual" (it's dyed the colours of the bisexual flag). Cara Delevingne called it "brilliant", while the gay American writer Louis Virtel tweeted: "Taylor Swift threw the first bachelorette party at Stonewall".

We jest, but the video for You Need to Calm Down is not very funny, despite being intended as a campy celebration of queer culture. If singing "shade never made anybody less gay" was meant to be Swift's idea of allyship, the bad execution and cynical timing with Pride month make this video feel more like empty virtue signalling - and it's not particularly virtuous, in my opinion, to caricature the homophobes in the video purely as "hillbillies", as if only those people can be bigoted.

You Need to Calm Down is just one example of a pop-cultural moment that's been lambasted for queerbaiting recently. "This is still a new-ish term," explains queer sociologist Professor Amin Ghaziani. "It means using aspects of queer cultures or queer political support to signal hipness, coolness, political correctness, tolerance or open-mindedness; the performance of a liberal sensibility in a self-interested way, such as for selling a product."

The reason that this creates such outrage, he says, is because it takes away the humanity of LGBTQ+ people and reduces us into pawns in a game of profitability and politics.

Queerbaiting comes in many forms. There was the Dua Lipa and St Vincent performance at the 2019 Grammys that was criticised for playing up queer female desire. There was the Calvin Klein advert, released last month, which pictured supermodel Bella Hadid kissing computer-generated influencer Lil Miquela. Then there was the BBC's advertising campaign for Killing Eve, which plastered London with billboards saying: "Has anyone seen my girlfriend?", and saw Villanelle bombard Radio 1 with song requests for Eve. As a gay woman, and a fan of the show, I didn't give it much more than an eye-roll, until Sandra Oh, in an interview with Gay Times, denied that there were lesbian undertones: "You guys are tricky because you want to make it into something ... but it just isn't," she said. It makes you wonder: then why are you marketing it as such?

This queerbaiting is not a new phenomenon. Cast your mind back to Madonna and Britney kissing at the MTV video music awards, Tatu's entire pop career, Demi Lovato's Really Don't Care video and Nick Jonas's album campaigns over the last few years, in which he has honed in on his gay fanbase, despite having high-profile relationships with women. Lately, queerbaiting seems to have reached its peak. Especially when you look at the number of brands getting on board with sponsoring Pride, or creating some kind of product that supposedly endorses Pride's values. Like Marks & Spencer's recent release of an LGBT sandwich (lettuce, guacamole, bacon and tomato, in case you were wondering) or Sainsburys' strange and superficial series of instore posters saying it supports LGBTQ+ rights, with very little context. Pride in London has lent itself to branded causes repeatedly: 2016's Absolutely Fabulous: The Movie float, or 2017's Minions. It has basically become a parade of glorified adverts for things that are in no way queer.

According to Forbes, a 2018 US survey by Community Marketing and Insights found that more than 75% of LGBT Americans will spend more with a company that supports equality, and one-third of consumers in the US feel more positive about a brand that supports Pride. "Brands are always looking for ways to engage new audiences in order to grow revenue. That's marketing and that's business," says Stephen Lepitak, editor at ad industry publication The Drum. "However when they decide to get on board 'a purpose' and align with an aspect of society, they must be careful not to do it tokenistically. There has to be a reason for them to align that makes sense, otherwise they risk alienating people as it will ring false."

British Airways, for instance, has come under fire for sponsoring Pride when their planes deport LGBTQ+ migrants from the UK. Primark has also been accused of "pinkwashing" its brand by releasing Pride collections and not donating the proceeds to charity.

It is easy to criticise faceless big brands for co-opting LGBTQ+ causes, but when it comes to specific celebrities, complications arise when we don't consider how someone might have felt the need quash their own desire due to social stigma or the entertainment industry's prejudice.

For example, Rita Ora's 2018 song Girls was unanimously criticised for perpetuating stereotypes of drunken, faux-lesbian hookups, prompting the singer to come out as bisexual. Chloë Grace Moretz got similarly slammed for playing a lesbian in the film The Miseducation of Cameron Post and was later pictured kissing a girl. There is a delicate line to tread between policing people's affiliation with certain labels and holding them accountable for earning the title of ally if they want to use it.

So, what should we think about We Need to Calm Down? There is some authenticity, albeit borrowed: the fact that Ellen, Laverne and Billy Porter appear does lend the video some credibility. She also has a cause: the video promotes a petition for the US Senate to recognise the Equality Act; and Swift put her money where her mouth is, making a donation to the Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation (Glaad). However, unlike longstanding queer ally Lady Gaga, it could be said that Swift hadn't really nurtured her gay fanbase enough before the video dropped. You cannot just suddenly decide to be a queer ally and earn the title overnight.

Buttering queer fans up with a Jonathan Van Ness collaboration or getting caught sniffing some poppers might have helped, but better yet, would have been using the last 10 years of her career to peddle the message that gay is OK. The real test will be how she uses the next 10.
* The UK LGBT+ helpline can be reached on 03003300630 Queer Intentions: A (Personal) Journey Through LGBTQ+ Culture by Amelia Abraham is out now Topics

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Why culture's 'queerbaiting' leaves me cold

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When Taylor Swift released her video for You Need to Calm Down, it was satirical news site the Onion that delivered the funniest and most poignant response: "Taylor Swift Inspires Teen To Come Out As Straight Woman Needing To Be At Center Of Gay Rights Narrative".

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Ist Bob gay oder asexual? Befindet er sich in einer Beziehung mit Patrick oder nicht?
Sind alle diese Charakteren eigentlich "queer"?

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"Hey, this isn't so bad!" SpongeBob SquarePants (Tom Kenny) says as he emerges from the ocean. Suddenly, he's an actual sponge propped up by a pole, standing on a fake beach in a poorly lit studio. In this season two episode, entitled "Pressure", Sandy (Carolyn Lawrence), a squirrel who survives underwater by wearing scuba gear, dares SpongeBob and his friends to "last a minute" on her "turf". Not wanting to admit that they're inferior to her on land, they accept Sandy's challenge.

In Bikini Bottom, drag shows start instantaneously.

SpongeBob's voice, unlike his appearance and surroundings, maintains its animated innocence, creating a jarring juxtaposition for the viewer. Patrick (Bill Fagerbakke), Squidward (Rodger Bumpass), and finally Mr. Krabs (Clancy Brown) follow SpongeBob above water, each of them transforming from a bright and colorful cartoon to a shriveled depiction of their former selves. They've left the fantastical, underground realm of Bikini Bottom and have entered our reality.

In 2002, after both Christian advocacy groups and gay men claimed that Spongebob SquarePants was a queer television show, series creator Stephen Hillenburg told The Wall Street Journal that he never intended his characters to be gay; he'd considered them to be, in fact, "asexual". At the time, Cathy Renna of GLAAD commented to PlanetOut, "He's a sponge; how can he be gay?" In their dry and literal responses, Hillenburg and Renna were seemingly unaware of the anxiety percolating beneath these religious advocacy groups' accusations.

They assumed that for SpongeBob SquarePants to be understood as a "gay show", SpongeBob and his friends had to explicitly identify as queer. For the The Wall Street Journal article, "Something about SpongeBob Whispers 'Gay' to Many Men", journalist Sally Beaty asked a few gay men in Greenwich Village why SpongeBob had become popular within the queer community. Their responses ranged from claiming that the characters are all gay to praising the show's tolerance for flamboyant personalities.

Whether or not it was Stephen Hillenburg's intention, a tone of queerness pervades SpongeBob SquarePants: an anarchic and irreverent fluidity that can't be boxed into traditional notions of gay, straight, or asexual. In the 2011 book The Queer Art of Failure, Jack Halberstam explores how "animated animals allow us to explore ideas about humanness and alternative imaginaries in relation to new forms of representation" (33). SpongeBob, Patrick, Squidward, Mr. Krabs, and Sandy aren't bound by a traditional heterosexual family structure, or even biological sameness. They're bound to each other through being different, a togetherness that transcends current ideas of normalcy.

Speculating on these cartoons' actual sexualities is a cruel exercise in imposing rigidity onto their fictive world, ripping them from the ocean and forcing them to shrivel into actual objects. Jose Esteban Munoz argues in his 2009 book Cruising Utopia: The Then and There of Queer Futurity that "queerness" is an abstract idea that's always looking forward, and not grounded in either the past or the present. In chapter three, "The Future is Present", Munoz makes the case that within "oil dance floors, sites of public sex, various theatrical stages, music festivals, and arenas both subterranean and aboveground", queer people collectively create this vision of their utopian future -- what he calls an "actually existing queer world" (49). In SpongeBob SquarePants, this "actually existing queer world" is Bikini Bottom, an underground space that thrives through abiding by its own rules of absurdity and fluidity.

In order to fully grasp the radicalness of SpongeBob SquarePants, a discussion of its historic context is necessary. Premiering in 1999, the Nickelodeon cartoon gained popularity concurrently to the mainstreaming of gay and lesbian identities. During the late Clinton years and the early Bush era, a number of LGBT-themed shows debuted on primetime broadcast and cable TV, branding themselves and subsequently being received as trailblazers for acceptance and tolerance. Programs like The L Word (Showtime), Queer as Folk: US (Showtime), Will and Grace (NBC), and Queer Eye for the Straight Guy (Bravo) had casts featuring multiple gay characters, and utilized their issues as central plot points.

The general notion behind these series was that if queer characters were represented on television, heterosexual society would understand them as human beings, rather than consider them an abstract, contrarian evil. Yet, in participating in a narrative of advocating for acceptance, these shows gleefully and righteously fought for what Munoz refers to as an "assimilationist gay politics" (21). Unlike the lofty ambitious goals of previous generations of queer activists, "assimilationist gay politics" is primarily focused on normalizing LGBT people and helping them fully integrate into American capitalism. Whether it was comedy, drama, or reality series, these TV programs used the tension of a marginalized minority wanting to be normal as their central ethos.

The Showtime series The L Word and Queer as Folk provided a window into the world of lesbians and gay men, demonstrating the negative effects of homophobia, while simultaneously celebrating the underground spaces in which queer culture thrived. Despite being significant steps forward in representation, these two shows are often obscured by the darkness of the reality they aimed to depict. On the other hand, Will and Grace and Queer Eye for the Straight Guy were full-blown exercises in making queerness a sparkly accessory for a cosmopolitan heterosexual lifestyle. In her 1964 essay "Notes on Camp", Susan Sontag states:

The two pioneering forces of modern sensibility are Jewish moral seriousness and homosexual aestheticism and irony ... the Jews pinned their hopes for integrating into modern society on promoting the moral sense. Homosexuals have pinned their integration into society on promoting the aesthetic sense.

Will and Grace and Queer Eye for the Straight Guy promoted a gay, campy aesthetic solely for the purposes of enhancing and enlightening heterosexual culture. In Will and Grace, gay men lent their ironic, snarky humor for middle-American laugh tracks, while in Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, Carson Kressley and his crew of homosexuals -- the "fab five" -- used their feminine knowledge of fashion to help heterosexual men seem more appealing to women. The gay men on these shows are self-aware, constantly making ironic and over-the top jokes at the expense of themselves and their straight friends.

These jokes, however, offer miniscule, momentary escapes from the overall normative goals of these series. What makes SpongeBob SquarePants so different from these comedic gay shows is its celebration of a camp aesthetic on its own queer terms. For example, SpongeBob, Squidward, and Patrick all live on Conch Street in houses that are kitschy exaggerations of their unique personalities. SpongeBob's "pineapple under the sea", manifests and mocks his playful, infantile sensibility. Squidward lives in a replica of an Easter Island Head decorated with expressions of egotism; his long face is featured on various rugs, busts, and paintings scattered around the house. Lastly, Patrick's house is a giant brown rock with nothing but a TV antenna sticking out of it, the perfect visualization of his simple personality. Conch Street's inhabitants live in righteous solitude, existing and thriving for no one but themselves.

A Google search for "SpongeBob is gay" brings a number of articles from conservative and LGBT blogs, most of them showing a list of specific moments in which something "gay" occurred in the series. These listicles tend to reference SpongeBob surfing on David Hasselhoff's brawny chest, the show's affinity for rainbows, and random homoerotic moments between the male characters. Unfortunately, these articles fall into the conceptual trap of understanding SpongeBob and his friends' desires, relationships, and aesthetics as innately human. Although the series is filled with moments of homoeroticism and gender fluidity, to assume that necessarily demonstrates a presentation of a fixed identity denies the radical power of SpongeBob and his world.

One episode in particular highlights how the world of Bikini Bottom wholeheartedly rejects heteronormative culture and creates an "actually existing queer world". In the season three episode, "Rock-a-Bye-Bivalve", SpongeBob and Patrick find an abandoned baby clam and adopt it as their child. Before raising the clam, the two best friends have a silly conversation about what gendered parental roles they'd both assume:

Patrick: Oh! I wanna be the mom!
SpongeBob: I don't think you can be the mom, because you never wear a shirt.

Patrick: You're right. If I was your mom, this would be kinda shocking. Just call me daddy!

By explicitly mocking the performative nature of sexuality and gender, the act of trying to understand these characters' actual identities collapses, making space for an exploration of SpongeBob and Patrick's utopia. Patrick starts the conversation with wanting to be "mom" and then ends with screaming, "just call me daddy!" These roles have profound significations above water, and yet for SpongeBob and Patrick, they can easily be disregarded and rearranged. Soon after agreeing on their gender roles, SpongeBob throws on a colorful dress and Patrick starts sporting a suit and tie; in Bikini Bottom, drag shows start instantaneously.

"Rock-a-Bye-Bivalve" can be read as an example of Jack Alberstram's concept of "creative anthropomorphism". While many animated films and series impose heterosexual society onto animals and objects, "creative anthropomorphism" fights against that practice, using cartoon characters to explore nontraditional modes of thought.

In a scene where SpongeBob and Patrick are taking their baby clam on a stroll, a heterosexual, same-species fish couple walk by and are puzzled by this nonconforming family. A thought bubble appears above the head of the female fish, visualizing her deliberation of how SpongeBob and Patrick's family contradicts the rules of heterosexual reproduction. The thought bubble lingers for a few seconds and then disappears, leaving this biological question purposefully unresolved for both the fish and the viewer.

SpongeBob and Patrick's interspecies, same-sex union isn't about "love winning", it's about love imploding. Throughout the episode, the baby clam is used as a vessel to deconstruct traditional family structures. Patrick becomes the overworked dad and SpongeBob transforms into the underappreciated housewife; their queer friendship comically falls apart as they try to be normal. With Patrick's hyper-masculine aloofness and SpongeBob's Victorian neuroticism, they fail as parents.

In the episode's climax, SpongeBob points to a large mountain of dirty diapers as proof that he, as a mother, can't raise this clam on his own. Patrick then vows that he'll try his best to come back the next day at "six o'clock" to help him out with changing diapers and other domestic chores. They repeatedly scream "six o'clock" to one another, until the promise, much like their family, is rendered absurd.

Alberstram argues that for queer people, "there's something powerful in being wrong, in losing, in failing" because "all our failures combined might just be enough, if we practice them well, to bring down the winner" (120). He labels this "the queer art of failure". SpongeBob and Patrick's dysfunctional family can be read as a powerful attack on the heterosexual "winner"; they fail as parents because they're clinging to normative ideas of gender, instead of embracing their family for its differences. The episode concludes with the clam flying away from SpongeBob and Patrick's proverbial nest. They longingly smile at their child goes off to adulthood. SpongeBob ironically jokes to Patrick, "Let's have another!"

Sandy Cheeks, a cowgirl squirrel, manifests this "queer art of failure" through her incongruence with Bikini Bottom. Her presence serves as a testament to SpongeBob Squarepants' irreverent disregard for conformity. Unlike her male counterparts, she's a mammal, and hence can only survive under water by wearing an oxygen tank and living in an air-locked dome. Sandy was originally sent by the "Treedome" corporation to Bikini Bottom to study undersea life. Instead of treating SpongeBob and his friends as scientific subjects, however, she becomes their companion, eliminating the possibility of creating an oppressive power dynamic between the land and underwater world.

While many animated films convey clear dichotomies and singularities in the worlds they illustrate, Bikini Bottom is presented as a space in which even a squirrel from Texas can learn to adjust. By befriending a starfish and a sponge, Sandy manages to subvert any sense of order or sameness that would be assumed about an underwater society. Sandy fits in with SpongeBob and his gang because although she readjusts and rearranges to survive, she wholeheartedly refuses to assimilate.

Recently, screenshots from SpongeBob SquarePants episodes have been recontextualized into memes circulated on Twitter and Instagram. These memes serve as a momentary reminder of the absurdist cartoon we watched on Saturday mornings, signifying a shared cultural past between American millennials. Despite being rooted in nostalgia, the reemergence of SpongeBob could very well be linked to a longing for a yet-to-be-realized queer future. Even though there's now more nuanced queer TV programs like Transparent and Orange is the New Black, these shows ultimately serve as dramatizations of the perils of present queer reality.

On Viceland, Ellen Page is the host of Gaycation, a series that she claims is a "journey to explore what it means to be gay, bi, or trans all around the world". Gaycation features the lesbian actress and her two gay companions going to various parts of the globe, imposing their Western classifications of gender and sexuality through encouraging people to "come out" and discuss how they feel marginalized within their respective culture. In its insistence on categorization and assimilation, Gaycation is the complete antithesis of SpongeBob SquarePants.

Jose Estaban Munoz proclaims, "Queerness is not yet here. Queerness is an ideality...we are not yet queer. We may touch queerness, but we can feel it as the warm illumination of a horizon imbued with potentiality" (2). SpongeBob and his gang exist as a reminder of this future, forever inhabiting a reality that no matter what progress we've made in our actual world, will always be transcendent, unattainable, and most importantly, strange.

Just call me daddy!

Daniel Spielberger is an LA-based writer who graduated from Reed College with a BA in history, as well as studying Chinese cultural history, film studies, and literature. He recently published an essay in the New Orleans art and cultural magazine Pelican Bomb.

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Queering the Sponge: The Transcendent Queerness of 'SpongeBob SquarePants'

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"Hey, this isn't so bad!" SpongeBob SquarePants (Tom Kenny) says as he emerges from the ocean. Suddenly, he's an actual sponge propped up by a pole, standing on a fake beach in a poorly lit studio.

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Queere Protagonist*innen

Angesichts rezenter Entwicklungen sehen selbst Figurentypen wie der „schwule beste Freund“ mittlerweile alt aus: So war im Jahr 2019 eine ungewohnt hohe Anzahl an homo- und bisexuellen Protagonist*innen zu beobachten. Serien mit queeren Hauptfiguren gab es natürlich bereits vorher. Das Potenzial solcher Serien, die Haltungen der Zuschauer*innen zu destabilisieren, halten sich allerdings in Grenzen. Einerseits weil sie vornehmlich von einem ohnehin sensibilisierten Publikum geschaut werden und andererseits weil sie stereotype Vorstellungen bezüglich Queerness nicht in dem Sinne sprengen, wie angenommen werden könnte. „The L Word“ stellt ohne Zweifel einen wichtigen Meilenstein queerer TV-Geschichte dar, doch war die Serie nicht nur trans- und bisexuellenfeindlich, sondern auch inhärent heteronormativ. Serien wie „Will & Grace“ oder „Modern Family“ zeigen queere Menschen, die heterosexuelle Lebensstile wie Monogamie, Hausbesitz und Ehe bevorzugen. Bis heute werden unzählige homosexuelle Paare zudem auf dezidiert desexualisierte Weise dargestellt.

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Was diese Serien so außergewöhnlich macht, ist, dass sie nicht davon ausgehen, dass Heterosexualität alle Zuschauer*innen interessiert, während Queerness nur für ein überschaubares, queeres Publikum von Relevanz ist. Stattdessen werden Heterosexualität und Queerness als völlig gleichwertig behandelt. Auch wenn diese Serien für ein queeres Publikum dadurch etwas schwerer auffindbar sind: Es ist dennoch als wahrhafter Fortschritt zu betrachten, dass nicht mehr die Haltung besteht, das Publikum vorwarnen zu müssen, dass eine Serie um eine queere Figur kreist. Gleichzeitig gilt: Wenn das Offenlassen der Sexualität der Hauptfigur im Trailer nicht mehr zwingend bedeutet, dass diese heterosexuell ist, wurden heteronormative Erwartungen erfolgreich überwunden.

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Was diese Serien so außergewöhnlich macht, ist, dass sie nicht davon ausgehen, dass Heterosexualität alle Zuschauer*innen interessiert, während Queerness nur für ein überschaubares, queeres Publikum von Relevanz ist. Stattdessen werden Heterosexualität und Queerness als völlig gleichwertig behandelt. Auch wenn diese Serien für ein queeres Publikum dadurch etwas schwerer auffindbar sind: Es ist dennoch als wahrhafter Fortschritt zu betrachten, dass nicht mehr die Haltung besteht, das Publikum vorwarnen zu müssen, dass eine Serie um eine queere Figur kreist. Gleichzeitig gilt: Wenn das Offenlassen der Sexualität der Hauptfigur im Trailer nicht mehr zwingend bedeutet, dass diese heterosexuell ist, wurden heteronormative Erwartungen erfolgreich überwunden.

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Queerbaiting is when creators and studios over-promise inclusion or flirt with queer subtext to hint at relationships they don’t intend to define or depict onscreen. It’s a way of luring an LGBTQ+ audience and benefitting from their investment, without offering meaningful representation in return.

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Pride-Marketing: Positiver Tatendrang oder doch nur Queerbaiting?

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Pride-Marketing: Positiver Tatendrang oder doch nur Queerbaiting?

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Eine Befragung der “Community Marketing & Insights” aus dem Jahr 2019 in den USA ergab, dass 78% der Befragten eher bei Unternehmen einkaufen würden, die sich für Gleichberechtigung einsetzten. So “hingenommen” wurde das LGBTQ*-Marketing aber nicht. Es herrschte auch jede Menge Kritik, da davon ausgegangen wurde, dass nicht jedes Unternehmen auch wirklich Meinungen der Gleichberechtigung vertrat, sondern teilweise auch schlichtweg ausnutzte. Dieses “Phänomen” etablierte den Begriff “Queerbaiting” statt “Clickbaiting”, bei dem es darum ging möglichst viele Klicks durch reißerische Überschriften zu ergattern.

Warum diese Zielgruppe gerade deshalb so attraktiv für Unternehmen sei, liege an einer Vielzahl von Gründen. Zum einen sei beispielsweise das Thema der Diversität, der “Andersheit” und des LGBTQ* ein gesellschaftlicher Trend, zum anderen gilt die Zielgruppe als konsumfreudiger und finanzstärker. Erhebungen des Deutschen Instituts für Wirtschaftsforschung aus dem Jahr 2017 zu Grunde, lebt mehr als die Hälfte der homo- und bisexuellen Männer und Frauen in Deutschland in Gemeinden, außerdem leben 67% in einem Doppelverdienerhaushalt. Nur 54% der heterosexuellen Deutschen lebten in einem Doppelverdienerhaushalt, was daran lag, dass die Heterosexuellen Paare mehr Haushalte mit Kindern hatten und so finanziell auch schlechter gestellt seien.

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Was ist das für ein Phänomen / Fast kaum zu hören kaum zu sehn
Ganz früh schon fängt es in uns an / Das ist das Raffinierte dran
Als Kind hat man\'s noch nicht gefühlt / Hat noch mit allen schön gespielt
Das Dreirad hat man sich geteilt / Und niemand hat deshalb geheult
Doch dann hieß es von oben her / Mit dem da spielst du jetzt nicht mehr
Das möcht ich nicht noch einmal sehn / Was ist das für ein Phänomen

Und ist man größer macht man\'s auch / Das scheint ein alter Menschenbrauch
Nur weil ein andrer anders spricht / Und hat ein anderes Gesicht
Und wenn man\'s noch so harmlos meint / Das ist das Anfangsbild vom Feind
Er passt mir nicht er liegt mir nicht / Das ist das nicht und find ihn schlicht

https://www.lyrix.at/t/hanns-dieter-husch-das-phanomen-375

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Bücher waren in meinem Leben irgendwie schon immer da. Jeden Abend haben meine Eltern mir vorgelesen, bis ich schließlich selbst lesen konnte. Dann habe ich den Spieß umgedreht und meine Eltern und kleine Schwester in den Schlaf gelesen. Auch Kinder wollen sich repräsentiert fühlen – egal ob sie nun selbst queer sind oder vielleicht gleichgeschlechtliche Eltern haben. Außerdem kann man Kindern durch Bücher sehr früh ein Gefühl für Akzeptanz und Normalität verschiedener Lebensformen vermitteln. Deshalb eignen sich Bücher, die queere Themen beinhalten, auch besonders für Kitas, Kindergärten und heteronormative Familien, um ihren Kindern einen Blick über den Tellerrand zu ermöglichen. In den letzten Jahren sind immer mehr LGBT+-Kinderbücher erschienen, von denen ich einige ausgewählt habe, die ich nachfolgend vorstelle.

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Im "Pride Month" verdienen alle Medien und große Firmen enorme Mengen von Geld, wegen die Kampagnen, die sie aufgrund des Prides organisieren.
Sind sie wirklich "open minded" und "supportive" für die LGBT+ Community oder ist es nur ein Marketing Trick?

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Rund sechs Millionen Menschen in Deutschland sind nicht heterosexuell, sondern zählen sich zur LGBTI-Community - sind also lesbisch, schwul, bisexuell, transgender oder intersexuell. Obwohl die Zielgruppe unter Marketern als überdurchschnittlich konsumfreudig und kaufkräftig gilt, scheinen sie nur die wenigsten Brands gezielt anzusprechen. Pünktlich zur CSD- und Pridefestival-Hochsaison erklärt OMR, wie man die LGBTI-Zielgruppe digital am besten erreicht und so wertvolle Potenziale hebt.

„Die gesellschaftliche Akzeptanz für Schwule und Lesben wird immer selbstverständlicher und immer mehr Unternehmen erkennen den Nutzen von Gay Marketing", sagt Marco Steinert. Er ist der Gründer des Berliner Digitalvermarkters Netzdenker, der seit 2009 Online-Kampagnen für homosexuelle Zielgruppen plant, ausliefert und Werbetreibende im Gay-Marketing berät. Gemessen an der Reichweite will das Unternehmen der größte Online-Vermarkter für LGBTI-Publisher in Deutschland, Österreich und der Schweiz sein.

Dass LGBTI-freundliche Unternehmen vor allem in der jungen Zielgruppe ein gutes Image genießen, ist dabei längst nichts Neues mehr. 45 Prozent der Konsumentinnen und Konsumenten unter 34 Jahren würden einer Google-Umfrage von 2014 zufolge mit einer größeren Wahrscheinlichkeit wiederholt bei einem LGBTI-freundlichen Unternehmen einkaufen. Und über die Hälfte würde ein Unternehmen vorziehen, das Gleichberechtigung unterstützt. Die zunehmende gesellschaftliche Akzeptanz von Homosexualität sorge gleichzeitig aber auch dafür, dass Planer die LGBTI-Community nur sehr selten separat auf dem Schirm hätten, sagt Steinert: „Das ist verschenktes Potenzial. Die Zielgruppe ist schließlich äußerst lebendig, reist und konsumiert gerne."

Die LGB-Community als ideale Online-Marketing-Kandidaten?

Was Steinert in seinem Job beobachtet, bestätigt sich auch in aktuellen Umfragen: Fast die Hälfte der LGBs findet ihren Lifestyle einer Yougov-Studie zufolge nicht ausreichend in der Werbung widergespiegelt. Die Gruppe sei jung und zu fast 60 Prozent männlich. Werbung nehme sie im Gegensatz zur Gesamtbevölkerung überwiegend nicht im Fernsehen, sondern online wahr. Über die Hälfte der für die Studie befragten LGBs meinen sogar, dass lineares Fernsehen der Vergangenheit angehört - ideale Online-Marketing-Kandidaten also.

LGBs sind laut Yougov zwar im Durchschnitt nicht wohlhabender, wie fälschlicherweise häufig berichtet wird. Aber sie sagen von sich selber: „Mein Stil ist teuer." Und sie sind Multiplikatoren - LGBs werden von Freunden und Bekannten deutlich häufiger um Rat gefragt, bevor diese ein Produkt kaufen. Weitere Erkenntnisse: Sie gelten als Trendsetter und mögen es, aufzufallen. Sie gehören zu den ersten im Freundeskreis, die neue Musikkünstler entdecken. Auch auf anderen Gebieten zeige sich die Gruppe progressiv und umweltbewusst. LGBs seien zum Beispiel fast doppelt so häufig Veganer wie der Bevölkerungsdurchschnitt.

Erreicht man Gays unter 30 medial fast nur noch über Dating-Apps?

Laut Marco Steinert ergeben sich aus den langfristigen Trends im Gay-Marketing drei Wege, um die Gruppe digital am besten zu erreichen. Facebook wisse zwar schon recht viel über die sexuelle Orientierung der User und Werbung lasse sich hier mit entsprechendem Targeting gezielt ausspielen. Gays unter 30 seien laut Steinert aber am besten über Gay-Dating-Apps ohne Streuverluste zu erreichen - sei es Grindr, Planet Romeo oder Hornet. LGBTI-Nachrichtenportale und -Blogs werden inzwischen hauptsächlich über soziale Medien angeklickt und weniger direkt aufgerufen. Das Problem dabei: Viele Werbetreibende schließen Werbung in Dating-Apps von vornherein kategorisch aus. Mediaplaner in den Agenturen könnten sie daher nicht immer berücksichtigen. Ein Fehler, so Steinert: „Viele Apps wie Hornet kümmern sich inzwischen um ein hochwertig gestaltetes Marken-Werbeumfeld."

Die angesagten Gay-Dating-Apps: Grindr, Hornet - und Instagram?

Grindr gilt weltweit inzwischen als größte Gay-Dating-App und hat nach eigenen Angaben über drei Millionen tägliche Nutzer. Der Clou an der Anwendung ist die „Radar"-Standortsuche, die anzeigt, wer gerade in der unmittelbaren Nähe auf Grindr registriert und online ist. Auf Schwulenparties hat das laut Steinert inzwischen zur Folge, dass man sich seltener direkt anspricht, sondern lieber erstmal auf Grindr chattet und checkt, ob das Gegenüber im Raum Interesse an einem Kontakt hat. So intensiv, wie Schwule Grindr nutzen, macht Werbung dort auch ohne detailliertes Targeting wie bei Facebook Sinn.

Hornet positioniert sich im Vergleich zu Grindr etwas hochwertiger. Die Social Media-App wurde 2011 vom deutschen Startup-Serien-Entrepreneur Christof Wittig in San Francisco gegründet. Wittig hat vor Kurzem von sich reden gemacht, als er zusammen mit dem Berliner Blockchain-Tech-Startup OST eine LGBT-Bitcoin-Währung, den „LGBT-Token" ausgab. Hornet bezeichnet sich selber als „The World's Premier Gay Social Network", hat nach eigenen Angaben weltweit über 25 Millionen Nutzer und eine Million Daily Active Users. Die App hat drei Hauptfunktionen: Schwule können sich über ihre "Hornet Guys"-Profile verbinden sowie sich an „Hornet Places", also lokalisierten LGBT-Orten wie etwa Bars, treffen. Und mit den „Hornet Stories", einem Portal mit täglich über 25 neuen Artikeln in acht Sprachen von den angeblich weltweit renommiertesten Content-Creatoren der Szene geschrieben, liefert die Anwendung zusätzlich eigene Inhalte. Letzteres solle dank der vollständig redaktionell kuratierten Inhalte eine „markensichere" Umgebung garantieren, wo „Männer sich und Ihre Marke treffen können" - so das Versprechen gegenüber Werbekunden.

Laut Marco Steinert wird auch Instagram immer stärker als Dating-App von Schwulen genutzt, die ihre Profile offenhalten, mit Selfies füllen und sich über Hashtags suchen und finden. Facebooks Foto-Plattform färbt Hashtags wie #lgbt, #pride, #pride2018, #gay, #queer und #lovewins automatisch in Regenbogenfarben ein und hat zum Pride-Monat Juni auch Regenbogen-Sticker und -Herzenregen für Stories aufgelegt. Kein Wunder, dass, wer auf Instagram nach diesen Hashtags sucht, auch prompt aktuelle Markenwerbung mit LGBTI-Bezug zu sehen bekommt, zum Beispiel von Condor und Levi's Germany.

Das LGBTI-Alltagsleben nicht so darstellen, als wäre es nicht „normal"

Zwar gibt es große Werbetreibende wie Calvin Klein, die mit Mainstream-Motiven von Justin Bieber und Kendal Jenner in der Frühjahrskampagne 2016 auch auf den Gay-Plattformen geworben haben. Laut Steinert schätzt es die Community aber sehr, wenn Werbemotive speziell für die Zielgruppe kreiert werden. Im Trend seien Advertorials, die die homosexuelle Lebenswirklichkeit so „normal" wie möglich darstellen. Gute Beispiele sind laut Steinert zwei junge Frauen, die für ein Motiv des Reiseanbieters Dertour umschlungen am Strand spazieren. Oder ein Werbespot der Deutschen Bahn, in der ein Mann seinem Freund, einem Profifußballer, im ICE zu seinen Spielen hinterherreist.

Auch das Frauenpaar mit Baby, mit dem die Telekom im vergangenen Jahr für die Family Card geworben hat, stieß auf positive Resonanz. Laut Steinert werden solche Advertorials mindestens ebenso geschätzt wie allgemein gehaltene Gleichberechtigungs- und Diversity-Akzeptanz-Kampagnen in Regenbogenfarben. „Es ziehen Markenbotschaften mit Werbemotiven, die die Normalität des LGBTI-Lebens darstellen und Homosexuelle mit Spaß beim Nutzen der beworbenen Produkte zeigen", sagt Steinert.

Eines komme in der Community allerdings überhaupt nicht gut an: wenn solche Kampagnen nur in den Mainstream-Medien laufen, ohne die LGBTI-Zielgruppen in deren Medien direkt anzusprechen. „Das könnte dann eher als ein Lippenbekenntnis wahrgenommen werden, als ein Feigenblatt, um der aufgeklärten Welt zu zeigen, wie liberal man ist", so Marco Steinert.

Pride-Festivals strategischer für Online- und Offline-Kampagnen nutzen

Von Mai bis Oktober ist Pride-Saison. Inzwischen finden in diesen Monaten weltweit tausende CSD-Umzüge, Pride-Festivals, -Paraden und Parties statt, auf denen sich Millionen LGBTIs unter dem Motto „Show your Pride" feiern. Am vergangenen Sonntag, den 22. Juli beispielsweise liefen CSDs parallel in Frankfurt, Mönchengladbach, Trier, Rostock, Leipzig und im Wendland. Gleichzeitig fand in Berlin-Schöneberg das „lesbisch-schwule Stadtteilfest" mit 350.000 Teilnehmern statt. Am kommenden Wochenende steigen die großen CSDs sowohl in Hamburg als auch in Berlin. Marco Steinert beobachtet, dass Werbetreibende in Deutschland die LGBTI-Massenevents viel weniger für sich nutzen als Brands im Ausland, wo LGBTI-Online-Werbekampagnen strategisch offline verlängert werden - so wie zum Beispiel von Netflix oder Vodafone auf dem World Pride in Madrid 2018. „Da ist noch viel Potential für die Markendarstellung bei einer attraktiven Zielgruppe", so Steinerts Fazit.

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Dating-Apps und Pride-Ads: Digital-Marketing in der LGBTI-Zielgruppe

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Rund sechs Millionen Menschen in Deutschland sind nicht heterosexuell, sondern zählen sich zur LGBTI-Community ­- sind also lesbisch, schwul, bisexuell, transgender oder intersexuell. Obwohl die Zielgruppe unter Marketern als überdurchschnittlich konsumfreudig und kaufkräftig gilt, scheinen sie nur die wenigsten Brands gezielt anzusprechen.

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Todrick Hall ist einer der wichtigsten Repräsentanten der queeren Community, und ein berühmter Sänger.

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2018 has been a bad year for the LGBTQ community in politics, but it's been a record-breaking year in media, according to GLAAD's annual TV diversity report. LGBTQ representation on television hit a record high this year, with 8.8 percent out of 857 series regulars on broadcast TV openly identified as on the gay, trans, or queer spectrum. And for the first time, LGBTQ people of color outnumbered white LGBTQ characters on-screen by 50 to 49 percent.

GLAAD counted 26 trans characters on TV, which is nine more than last year. A significant percentage of that progress was driven by Ryan Murphy's new series Pose on FX, which has five new trans characters.

For the first time in three years, the number of bisexual+ men rose, clocking in at 33, compared to 18 in 2017. (Bisexual+ is a new term that expands the old definition of bisexual to include attraction to other gender identities besides men and women.) Bisexual+ characters in television tend to be women who are often portrayed through negative tropes like using sex as a manipulative tool. But this year, GLAAD's study saw a rise in depicting bi+ men and also in telling more nuanced stories of bi+ women.

Netflix still beats Hulu and Amazon Prime in diversity

The study says Netflix is still the best streaming platform for diverse representation of LGBTQ characters, dominating outlets like Hulu and Amazon Prime. In particular, Netflix's animated dark comedy BoJack Horseman features the only asexual character GLAAD's study found on streaming platforms: Todd Chavez, BoJack's trusty sidekick.

Beyond these numbers, the nuanced and favorable depictions of LGBTQ characters continue to increase. Steven Universe featured the first same-sex wedding on children's television this year. Adventure Time confirmed a long-rumored queer relationship between Princess Bubblegum and Marceline the Vampire Queen. The reboot of Queer Eye on Netflix aired its second season, including an episode that discusses trans issues. The superhero show Black Lightning features a queer woman of color who also possesses superhuman strength.

LGBTQ representation in film feels like an afterthought

Filmmakers and producers, on the other hand, are still failing to include LGBTQ characters in their work. And even when they do, the roles are often thin and seem like afterthoughts. In May, GLAAD's 2018 film survey found that only 12.8 percent of 109 films included an LGBTQ character, down from 18.4 percent last year. Many of these roles were deemed "insufficient," such as a quick reference in Get Out that the housekeeper Georgina might be gay, and a postmortem revelation that two characters in Alien: Covenant were a gay couple.

At least in television, it looks like we're making progress. In 2017 and 2016, shows also broke records, with 6.4 percent of characters identifying as LGBTQ in 2017, up from 4 percent in 2016. Progress is incremental, but it looks like at least the TV showrunners are listening to social media and Hollywood's continued calls for diversity, even if film lags behind.

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2018 saw record growth in LGBTQ roles on television

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2018 has been a bad year for the LGBTQ community in politics, but it's been a record-breaking year in media, according to GLAAD's annual TV diversity report. LGBTQ representation on television hit a record high this year, with 8.8 percent of series regulars on broadcast TV this season openly identified as on the gay, trans, or queer spectrum.

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Queerbaiting ist ein Phänomen, dass einen nicht nur Repräsentation von LGBTQs vorgaukelt, sondern sie auch noch ins Lächerliche zieht. Allen voran Film- und Serienproduzenten zeigen hier so richtig wie es funktioniert Minderheiten zu zeigen, dass sie keinen Wert besitzen. Nur eben nicht offensiv wie zuvor, sondern subtil und für manchen unbewusst. Das Kunstwort aus den Begriffen „queer“, ein Sammelbegriff für das sexuelle Spektrum außerhalb der Heterosexualität, und „baiting“, was nichts anderes als Köder bedeutet, beschreibt den Prozess wie heutige Medien auf eine geheime Darstellung von LGBTQ-Strukturen setzen, z. B. Lebensweisen von gleichgeschlechtlichen Paaren porträtieren, aber eine explizite Repräsentation vermeiden. Die angebliche Repräsentation lebt allein vom Subtext.
Queerbaiting fängt meist ganz harmlos an.

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Ah, queerbaiting! An age-old rite of passage of watching women share the same space - often right on top of each other or wrapped in each other's arms! - on teevee. It's ubiquitous! But it's also very hard to define! In large part because as more and more LGBTQ characters have graced our screens these last several years, and as more and more real life people come out without really, well, coming out (or assigning themselves a label), it's hard to know if you're being a victim of queerbaiting or if you're just shipping! But dammit, we know when it's happening to us and so we decided to make a list about it.

Our TV Team defined queerbaiting like this:

The act of playing into the chemistry, often even with established romantic tropes, between two women characters (at least one of whom has not declared her sexuality in such a way that your dad watching at home would know for absolute sure she's gay) with no intention of ever putting those characters together, romantically or sexually;

or:

Refusing to put two women characters together (at least one of whom, again, has an ambiguous sexuality that might escape your aunt Jan's notice) when it's very obvious the characters would have their relationship explored, romantically or sexually, if one of them was a dude.

And so here are the top 25 most egregious acts of queerbaiting of all time.

Tegan and Michaela, How to Get Away With Murder

Sure, Tegan is a mentor to Michaela, but why does the camera always zoom in on Michaela's longing, devastated face when Tegan blows past her to hang out with Annalise? And that's just for starters.

Emma and Regina, Once Upon a Time

Mortal enemies turned fierce companions who refuse to stand more than six inches apart at all times while raising their son together? Sure, that's straight.

Jane and Maura, Rizzoli & Isles

🤨

Kara and Lena, Supergirl

If this show was called Super man and Kara Danvers was Clark Kent and these two actors had this kind of chemistry and were experiencing this kind of intimacy and soul-destroying - maybe even literally earth-shattering - fights about their relationship, there is NO WAY anyone would consider them just friends.

Myka and HG, Warehouse 13

Warehouse 13 's fifth season was maybe the biggest roundhouse kick to a collective fandom's teeth I have ever seen in my life. You could close out a blossoming, electric, series-long romantic arc that actually caused queer fans to successfully secure a final season, or you could send Myka off into the sunset with the guy who was basically her brother? And you did that second thing?

Rachel and Quinn, Glee

The thing that doesn't make sense about Rachel and Quinn never exploring their feelings for each other was that by the time Glee was over Ryan Murphy could have made everyone on Fox gay and it would have been fine with the network. And Quinn even ultimately did quench her thirst (twice!) with Santana!

Watson and Moriarty, Elementary

I'm not just saying this because Natalie Dormer looks like she has a bisexual secret at all times always, like that's the way her face was made. I'm not just saying it because of that. If I was saying it just because of that, Sansa and Margery would also be on this list.

Spencer and Aria, Pretty Little Liars

When you're saying the name of your ship out loud on the show - #TeamSparia - put your mouths together and prove it.

Emily and JJ, Criminal Minds

If either one of these women was a man, this would have been a procedural love story as epic as Castle or Bones and you'll never convince me otherwise.

Skye and Simmons, Agents of Shield

The beginning of an issue Marvel and Disney still haven't had the guts to fix.

Peggy and Angie, Agent Carter

Phase two of that same issue.

Bonnie and Annalise, How to Get Away With Murder

Sometimes you're just a woman standing in front of another woman, loving her enough to murder someone for her.

Janeway and Seven, Star Trek

You don't get 700 fanfics written about you if you're on a TV show from 1995 if you're straight and that's just a fact.

Buffy and Faith, Buffy

They wrote their enemies-to-gal pals kiss into the script and then chickened out and made it a forehead kiss which actually makes it more gay, if you think about it.

Jo and Blair, The Facts of Life

The Facts of Life writers better be glad Twitter didn't exist when this show was on the air, or they would have never had a peaceful night's sleep in their lives.

Alex and Olivia, Law and Order: Special Victims Unit

Laurel and Nyssa, Arrow

Your ex-dead, ex-girlfriend's sister who is also the ex-girlfriend of the show's main character? That's such classic comic book and CW fodder it's like catnip!

Cara and Kahlan, Legend of the Seeker

Xena HD tbh.

Betty and Gladys, Bomb Girls

I know it was all Betty and Kate for most people, but Betty and Gladys had sizzling chemistry, came from opposite sides of the tracks, were frenemies-to-gal pals, and also Gladys would have relished this particular fuck you to her family. It makes too much sense to be platonic.

Daenerys and Missandei, Game of Thrones

It would have turned out better for both of them if they'd just admitted what was going on here and flown off together on Drogon.

Betty and Veronica, Riverdale

"Check your sell-by date, ladies. Faux lesbian kissing hasn't been taboo since 1994." - Cheryl Blossom

Grace and Frankie, Grace and Frankie

They're honestly almost out of rom-com tropes to explore with these two loves of each other's lives and if they don't end this show together, it's a goddamn lie.

Xena and Gabrielle, Xena

The Originals.

Laverne and Shirley, Laverne and Shirley

Just a couple of bosom buddies sharing a job, a home, a life, a bowling league, and a secret choreographed dance.

Eve and Villanelle, Killing Eve

Drew Gregory: They murdered someone together which was sex
I don't understand what's confusing here
Carmen: Drew... you are describing....queer baiting
"they murdered someone together which is sex"
is the new "they did magic together which is sex"
Drew: Villanelle is so explicitly queer though
She called another woman Eve as role play
If anything it's unrequited love, not baiting
Carmen: Right, no one's arguing that Villanelle isn't queer
Is it unrequited in canon or is it baiting the audience?
That's the fine line we're working with here.
Drew Gregory: Killing Eve is the epic story of a woman who falls in love with her straight best friend*
*the government agent hunting her

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Top 25 Most Egregious Acts of Queerbaiting on TV

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Ah, queerbaiting! An age-old rite of passage of watching women share the same space - often right on top of each other or wrapped in each other's arms! - on teevee. It's ubiquitous! But it's also very hard to define!

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NEW YORK (AP) - Wilson Cruz, a co-star in the new Hulu animated children's series "The Bravest Knight," describes the show's dad couple this way: "We're not explaining homosexuality, or same-gender sexuality. We're talking about the love of a family."

His words and those of his fellow Hulu father, T.R. Knight, speak loudly about the state of LGBTQ representation in TV fare for kids, a segment of media that has been broadening story lines over the last several years to include a range of non-binary characters.

"It's these parents that love her and care about her. That's it," Knight told The Associated Press in a recent joint interview with Cruz, referring to their cartoon daughter, Nia, a brave knight-in-training.

Seeing same-sex parents, gay marriage and general expressions of romantic non-binary affection is something the 46-year-old Knight wishes he had been exposed to growing up in Minneapolis.

"You feel starved, and you feel lonely, and that depression and that loneliness, it ain't healthy," he said.

Based on a 2014 book by Daniel Errico, the show comes soon after the long-running "Arthur" series on PBS featured a same-sex wedding for the first time, facing a ban in Alabama in the process. In June, the Hasbro-created "My Little Pony" series on Disney showed its first lesbian couple, Aunt Holiday and Auntie Lofty, who care for a young pony named Scootaloo.

"We have featured many types of families in the show over the past nine seasons and we hope this helps to provide kids and fans from all backgrounds an opportunity to identify with our characters and learn from their stories," said a Hasbro spokeswoman, Julie Duffy.

Zeke Stokes, chief programs officer for the media monitoring nonprofit GLAAD, said the struggle for inclusion has become easier as a number of LGBTQ writers and producers have made their way into positions of influence, though they're still a fraction overall.

"What we've said to them all along is that we will lock arms with you and we will make sure that you hear from the families who are being impacted by this in a positive way," Stokes said of GLAAD's work behind the scenes to support greater representation. "Not only have they heard from LGBTQ families but they've heard from other families who are like, yeah, my kid has a friend who's LGBTQ or my friend goes over to his friend's house and their parents are LGBTQ. This is not just something that impacts LGBTQ families. It's really something that gets experienced by everyone in society."

Sometimes, he said, GLAAD is called on to review LGBTQ content before it airs. It happened on "Andi Mack," a live-action, coming-of-age tween series that premiered on the Disney Channel in 2017, when a gay character, Cyrus, was coming out. The comedy-drama won GLAAD's inaugural media award for outstanding kids and family programming last year but was canceled after three seasons.

This year's GLAAD winner was one of the animated groundbreakers, "Steven Universe," which has also earned a Peabody Award and has fans of all ages since it premiered on the Cartoon Network in 2013. The show features the world of the Crystal Gems, magical human-like aliens who live with young Steven, a half-human, half-Gem boy who turns into the intersex "Stevonnie" after dancing close with a girl and "fusing," a skill driven by affection.

A kiss between two of the three female-presenting Gems with whom Steven lives, Ruby and Sapphire, prompted a halfhearted online petition four years ago demanding the show pull back from LGBTQ themes. It didn't.

Fallout in 2005 for the "Arthur" spin-off "Postcards from Buster" was a bigger deal. Then-U.S. Education Secretary Margaret Spellings demanded that PBS return federal funding over the inclusion in one episode of lesbian parents. PBS decided not to air the episode, "Sugartime!" The show's co-producer, WGBH in Boston, distributed the episode directly to public television stations after the PBS decision. Some, including WGBH, aired it.

"It was a huge national scandal. It was early in my career and that incident really scarred us, those of us who are gay content creators," said Chris Nee, who was the showrunner for Disney Junior's Peabody-winning preschool hit "Doc McStuffins."

"There was this idea that this was something you really couldn't broach. The younger generation of content creators are not only bolder to begin with but also don't remember all of that stuff," she said.

Her "Doc McStuffins" aired an episode in 2017, "The Emergency Plan," that featured a biracial, two-mom household, voiced by Wanda Sykes and Portia de Rossi. Today, the Emmy-winning Nee said, airing LGBTQ content for children is still fraught for some.

"I know that there really is backlash for each of the companies and so they tiptoe," she said. "Big broadcasters are not always our bravest souls. But a lot of companies are working very hard to change what's out there."
More: Why did it take so long for Hollywood to make a gay teen story like 'Love, Simon'?
Streaming has helped, notably Amazon Prime and Netflix, where Nee has a multiyear deal after leaving Disney. Among those without specific LGBTQ cast members or characters is the PBS mainstay "Sesame Street," known for embracing a wide range of diversity over its 50-year history. The show referenced two dads as far back as 1982, in a song, and two moms in a more recent segment about families, among other examples.

Non-binary actress Asia Kate Dillon, who plays Taylor Mason on Showtime's "Billions," said they would have benefited from the exposure as a kid growing up in Ithaca, New York. At 34, they also voice Val/entina, a gender fluid former Russian agent, on the animated web series "gen:LOCK."

"It would have been life-changing in many ways," they said. "It's one of the reasons I feel really proud and also humbled to be playing Taylor on 'Billions' and also The Adjudicator in 'John Wick 3.' These are non-binary characters who are getting wide visibility and who are integral characters in the stories that they're a part of. ... I get messages from people of all ages all over the world who say they feel less alone."

Shadi Petosky, who is trans, was co-creator and showrunner of the short-lived 2017 "Danger & Eggs" animated series on Amazon Prime. The series was known for its LGBTQ representation on air and off. There was a lesbian folk duo, gay dads, a young trans girl, Zadie, voiced by teen trans activist Jazz Jennings, and a non-binary character named Milo, who was voiced by agender activist and model Tyler Ford. The show's finale was set during a Pride festival.

It was well received, yet "Danger & Eggs" never had a second season despite winning an Emmy for direction. Petosky, who was not at liberty to discuss the reason, has since moved to Netflix, where she executive produces the new animated show "Twelve Forever," about a girl who doesn't want to grow up and creates a fantasy world where she doesn't have to.
Contributing: Gary Gerard Hamilton, Associated Press
"The main character is queer and coming to terms with her sexuality," Petosky said. "That's still a big deal. I want to see a lot more about what it's like for us as kids. Representation still falls way short of reality."

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LGBTQ representation in children's TV is growing: 'We're talking about the love of a family'

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NEW YORK (AP) - Wilson Cruz, a co-star in the new Hulu animated children's series "The Bravest Knight," describes the show's dad couple this way: "We're not explaining homosexuality, or same-gender sexuality. We're talking about the love of a family." His words and those of his fellow Hulu father, T.R.

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Saylor Moon (since the 90s, until today)

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Saylor Moon (since the 90s, until today)

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-große Rolle bei der Normalisierung der LGBT+ Community und deren Mitglieder
-hat patriarchalische und altmodische Stereotype "gebrochen"

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Features

We take a look at Sailor Moon's glorious history of LGBTQ+ visiblity and the mark it left on a generation.

At last we've come to it. The final volume of the classic Sailor Moon anime from the '90s has been released by VIZ Media on DVD and Blu-ray, and while we'll cover Sailor Moon Sailor Stars Vol. 2 in a minute, there is a discussion at hand that this final season of the show in particular makes especially relevant: the inherent and indomitable queerness of Sailor Moon.

Never a show that shied away from LGBTQ+ representation, even if some of it may be slightly problematic by today's standards, at the time Sailor Moon busted the door open in the area of sexuality and gender for a lot of fans. Many hadn't seen characters in the media, especially in animation, that represented them. Even cis-het fans were impacted by being exposed to people unlike them that they grew to care about and empathize with. There is little doubt that among the geek community Sailor Moon played a large part in the normalization of LGBTQ+ folks, holding them up as real people with their own feelings and struggles, even if they did have cosmic elemental powers.

In addition to queer representation,Sailor Moon also featured a heterosexual protagonist (well, I'd say a Kinsey 0.5) whose views on homosexuality changed, however subtly. In the early episodes of Sailor Moon S, Usagi is still very inexperienced with queer people and views Mako-chan's sudden fascination with Haruka to be vaguely threatening, cautioning her against giving up on men. By the end of the season, however, Haruka and Michiru are dear friends of Usagi's, and she recognizes their love as something just as powerful and true as what she has with Mamoru. This series not only gave visiblity to queer teens, but showed both them and their straight peers that people just need to be exposed and educated to become the most steadfast of allies.

Even more revolutionary than this, however, was how Sailor Moon tackled gender. Be it as simple as debunking stereotypes (girls can be action heroes) and dismissing binary gender roles (you can be a gearhead or an athlete and still enjoy cooking and flower arrangement) or as avant garde as affirming non-traditional gender expression-Fisheye, we're looking at you-the conversation around gender was always present if not often directly addressed. And now that gender issues have really become a prominent element of the mainstream cultural conversation, Sailor Moon is proving more relevant than ever and in some interesting new ways. After all, some aspects of the series are due to be revisited in a new light now that we have a new vocabulary for certain ideas and issues.

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read more: The Essential Episodes of Sailor Moon Season 1
Take, for instance, Haruka Tenou AKA Sailor Uranus. When she debuted in the mid-90s, Haruka's sexuality was unmistakable; she was all about the ladies. Her gender identity, though, was a bit of a moving target. Series creator Naoko Takeuchi herself said that Haruka was "both male and female," which led to all kind of interpretations from Haruka being intersex to the possibility that her Silver Millennium past life had been a prince among the princesses. Takeuchi eventually clarified her position, stating "Haruka has always been a girl, always will be." This seemed to settle the issue of her gender with the understanding that she was a lesbian with some masculine tendencies, and in fact in the manga she does seem to fluctate far more between masculine and feminine attire, whereas in the anime she's pretty much in men's attire except in her Sailor outfit. The thing is, the general public has a much more comprehensive understanding of gender identity now and it begs the question...

In today's parlance, should we still consider Haruka a soft butch lesbian or would she more accurately be categorized as genderfluid or non-binary? How would she define herself? And would taking her out of the category of binary woman undercut the series' feminist objectives? Many could argue both sides, and it's certainly an interesting debate. And what of pronouns? While there are certain first person identifiers in Japanese that are more or less gendered-a girl or woman using "boku" to identify herself is a classic trope marker for a tomboy, while a boy or man using "atashi" marks him as effeminate-third person pronouns are completely gender neutral. It's what allowed for so much confusion about Haruka in her debut episode. None of the girls knew they were talking about a girl because there was no linguistic way for them to know. But in English-speaking countries like the United States and Canada, would they/them be more appropriate for Haruka were the character created now? For that matter... let's talk Fisheye.
read more: The Essential Episodes of Sailor Moon R
Fisheye is, if not a transwoman, certainly nonbinary. All their disguises are female presenting, and even in their true form they wear their hair in a very feminine style, and their outfit completely conceals the fact that they don't have breasts. Fisheye is referred to as "he" in all translations, but this again could just be the bias of an English speaker when encountering Japanese pronouns. Takeuchi's notes in her Materials Collection imply some level of transgenderism in all three of the Amazon Trio, with Tigerseye appearing the most masculine of the three and even then it's only in comparison to the other two, but what exactly was her intent here? We know the sexuality of these characters as per the anime-Tigerseye and Hawkseye are into women, and Fisheye is into men-but their gender identity isn't quite as clear. How would we classify it in today's terms and does it even matter?

Then, of course, we come to perhaps the most controversial character in this discussion, not so much for their canonical gender as what's been done to it behind the scenes. Let's talk about my favorite of Queen Beryl's generals... the cunning, the treacherous, the unapologetically catty Zoisite. Many of us who came to Sailor Moon in the '90s did so through DiC's dub, where Zoisite was an arrogant, ruthless woman breaking up the boys' club of Beryl's trusted inner circle. She added this wonderful energy to the group dynamic and was a villain we fell in love with and loved to hate. And then inevitably, be it weeks or even months later, we found out that Zoisite was actually an effeminate gay man whose gender was altered in the name of homophobic censorship. As a gay teenager at the time I personally felt very divided about this and I still do even now, decades later.

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read more: How the Sailor Moon Movies Fit Within the Franchise
On the one hand, I was ecstatic to know that there was this loving, committed relationship between two men (villains, but who cares?) that was not only explicit but proved essential to the plot of the final act of Season 1. On the other, while I certainly didn't approve of the reasons DiC changed Zoisite's gender, namely the deliberate erasure of queer visiblity, I loved Kirsten Bishop's performance as Zoisite and found her interpretation of the character such a unique color in the dynamic between the generals and between Zoisite and Beryl herself. If I'm being completely honest, while I find Zoisite's maleness important in principle, DiC Zoisite is still my favorite version of the character. All that, and here's another wrench to throw into the gears.

What if, in an inevitable future interpretation of Sailor Moon, Zoisite were nonbinary? The character has a lot of feminine signifiers, an androgynous appearance, and he's been completely comfortable disguising himself as a woman in both the anime and the manga. In a way, a nobinary Zoisite would be the perfect compromise for those who crave that queerness but also like a feminine energy amongst the generals. And if we're talking about keeping Sailor Moon on the cutting edge of the LGBTQ+ conversation, a nobinary character in a relationship with Kunzite, whom many fans head canon as bisexual to reconcile his manga connection to Sailor Venus and his anime relationship with Zoisite, would be inspired. But in gaining representation in one area, would we lose it in another? If Zoisite were no longer a binary male, the romance with Kunzite would still be queer but would no longer be squarely gay, as it would no longer be a relationship between two men, but rather a man and an enby. And that wouldn't necessarily be a bad change, but it would be an either/or, the loss of one kind of representation in the gaining of another. Similarly, having a romance between the soft butch Haruka and the femme Michiru did play into a heteronormative gender role binary, but it also allowed for the vibility of a teen lesbian couple and showed that being a lesbian didn't look like just one thing. These relationships and dynamics, while perhaps a little outdated or problematic now, were revolutionary at the time and enormously important to the audience they were reaching.
read more: The Journey of the Sailor Guardians

So, at last we come to the only logical and chronological conclusion this conversation could reach: the Sailor Starlights.

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Debuting in the final arc/season of the franchise, the Sailor Starlights are a trio of Sailor Senshi from a distant planet who disguise themselves as a boy band for a plot-related reason that no one really questions the flimsiness of because these characters are just that cool and we all really like the idea of them. The main difference between the Starlights in Takeuchi's manga and the anime adaptation is that in the manga their male disguises are nothing more than drag, while in the anime their bodies physically become male when assuming their civilian diguises and revert to female when they activate their powers.

Most fans embrace the anime versions of the Starlights, especially queer fans, for while they're not transgender in the everyday, real world sense (don't @ me; no actual person can fully transition magically, reversibly, and in a matter of seconds) they are incontravertibly coded that way and allow for discussion of gender identity and expression. After all, their personalities are pretty much the same regardless of which form they're in, so what really does gender even mean to them? Many would argue that the Starlights are as popular as they are BECAUSE of the anime's deviation from the manga, but one person most certainly isn't a fan: Naoko Takeuchi herself.

One of Takeuchi's essential rules, perhaps her cardinal rule, was that only women could be Sailor Senshi, and she felt that the Starlights having male forms broke that rule. One could argue that since the Starlights' true forms are female, and they need to revert to those forms to access their powers, that rule isn't really being broken; the male forms are merely artifice. However, it's twenty years later and Naoko still ain't happy about it, so here we are.
read more: The Sailor Moon/Buffy the Vampire Slayer Connection
While I, as many writers, are strongly averse to the Death of the Author theory, this is one extremely rare exception where I personally believe that the creator's view on her own work is inferior to alternative interpretation. Having the Starlights be binary women dressing in men's clothing is just a retread of Haruka. Sure, Haruka is merely expressing her true sense of style while the Starlights are effecting a disguise, but we're still talking about cisgender women. However, with the anime Starlights being what I can only really describe as genderfluid, able to transition back and forth from male to female, it adds something fresh and different to the ensemble that opens the door to so many more conversations about gender and sexuality. It made Sailor Moon so much queerer than it already was, and that's a good thing as far as I'm concerned. So, hopefully Naoko can forgive us as we indulge in the resplendent queerness of Sailor Moon Sailor Stars.

If you're interested in doing just that, look no further than Sailor Moon: Sailor Stars Vol. 2, which hit the shelves just a couple weeks ago. Vol. 1's scarcity of bonus content is, as predicted, more than made up for in Vol. 2. The image galleries aren't bad, better than Vol. 1 but still a little sparse for those who didn't get the Collector's Edition and the stunningly gorgeous full-color booklet that comes with it. Where this set gains purchase is on its final disc with interviews, and holy shit are there tons of them!

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The actresses for all three Sailor Starlights-Melissa Hutchison, Erika Harlacher, and Sarah Williams-each get their own interviews, as do Katie Leigh (Sailor Iron Mouse), Faye Mata (Sailor Aluminum Siren), and Corina Boettger (Sailor Tin Nyanko). Carrie Keranen (Galaxia) also gets a turn, and there's one final interview with Tuxedo Mask himself, Robbie Daymond. All of these are a lot of fun, with the right mix of repeated questions, which allow the viewer to see how different members of the ensemble feel about certain common elements of their experience on Sailor Moon, as well as questions uniquely tailored to the interviewees, to keep the experience from feeling formulaic and stale.

The jewel in the crown here, however, is an interview with series voice director, Suzy Goldish, which clocks in at around 45 minutes! This comprehensive piece really digs deep into not only her five years directing every episode of the VIZ dub and working with the cast to find the characters and craft their performances, but her entire career and what led her from the music industry to dubbing anime. This interview is anything but fluff and was far more interesting than even someone like me, who is all about the men and women behind the curtain, expected it to be.

So, go ahead and treat yourselves. Between the final batch of emotionally charged episodes and the plethora of interviews on that final disc, Sailor Stars Vol. 2 is totally worth it. Make a weekend of it!

While sometimes flawed in its tone and approach, an unfortunate byproduct of its time, Sailor Moon's queer representation made a lasting impact not just on anime fans and geek culture, but society as a whole. When we saw that queer characters could be our friends, our heroes (and, yes, sometimes but NOT ONLY villains), it showed an entire generation that being LGBTQ+ isn't something strange and "other," but just another version of the human experience. It was many people's first step toward realizing that queer culture brings with it freedom and color, humor and beauty, that it's something to be admired and celebrated. Sailor Moon wasn't the first manga or anime to have queer characters, but was certainly one of if not THE first where they were heroes and role models, and that impact of that legacy cannot be overstated. Shows like Steven Universe and She-Ra and the Princesses of Power continue the work of pushing the boundaries of queer representation by way of colorful characters and engaging storytelling, and their respective creators have not been shy about how Sailor Moon has inspired and affected them.

Sailor Moon's impact on both pop-culture and those who consume it is as strong today, if not stronger, than it was 20 years ago, and if part of that impact is creating a safer, more welcoming world for queer people-even by inches-then it's one all should aspire to emulate.

Written by

Michael Mammano

Michael is a sci-fi and fantasy geek extraordinaire, opinionated critic, and founder of Metal Monkey Productions, a fledgling production company based out of North Hollywood. He had...

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The Resplendent Queerness of Sailor Moon | Den of Geek

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Features We take a look at Sailor Moon's glorious history of LGBTQ+ visiblity and the mark it left on a generation. At last we've come to it. The final volume of the classic Sailor Moon anime from the '90s has been released by VIZ Media on DVD and Blu-ray, and while we'll cover Sailor Moon Sailor Stars Vol.

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15 Examples of LGBT Characters On Kids' Shows, Because Sometimes TV Does Good Things

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"They're absolutely a gay couple and we're proud of that."

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King Princess is a young, openly gay musician who uses her music and social media platforms to present the image of a gender queer person who refuses to comply with beauty standards and gender roles.

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Hanging out with King Princess can feel like entering a time warp. At 21, she has the lush, broken voice of a hard-living lounge singer in a David Lynch film, and her music is similarly timeless: guitar-driven torch songs with lyrics sharpened by what sounds like a thousand years of love gone wrong. Listening to the yearning R&B swoon of "Prophet" - from King Princess' debut album, "Cheap Queen" - you may imagine its maker as a sad-eyed recluse, one who wears her sorrow like armor. But in person - her birth name is Mikaela Straus - the singer comes off as a different kind of throwback: a bawdy, trash-talking caricature of old-school rock 'n' roll excess.

In the time we spent together, I saw her mime masturbation after talking about how hot she thinks the singer Rosalía is ("She gave me a hug, and I was like, 'You smell good."); declare that if she were a man, she would "have a small [expletive], but it would work good"; and announce that she wants to give her girlfriend a cast of her vagina for their anniversary. In between takes at the video shoot for "Ohio" - a slow-burn ballad that descends into an unhinged rock jam - she asked several members of her team to smell her armpits (noting that the left one was noticeably more rank than the right) and talked colorful smack about other artists, esteemed music-industry institutions and an ex-girlfriend's new girlfriend. "I want you to come to my apartment after this," she said, staring me down during a moment of tenuous calm as her makeup artist sprayed a fine mist of glittering fuchsia across her cheekbone, "because I can tell it's inconvenient for you."

"There's a bit of a Gallagher-y thing to it," says the producer Mark Ronson, who released Straus's debut on his own Zelig Records, referring to the fractious Gallagher brothers from Oasis. "She's talking so much [expletive]. But when you've got that razor-sharp wit, you can get away with it."

Ronson was there at the first of two deranged, joyous, sold-out January shows King Princess played at the Wiltern Theater in Los Angeles. "I'm glad Daddy came," she would later say, using her pet name for the producer. As was the singer's mother, Agnes Mullaney - petite, with a big smile and a mane of rock-girl hair. But backstage, it was a one-woman show. Straus was flushed and loose, cheerily announcing how drunk she was. After the film director Quinn Wilson, Straus's girlfriend, arrived, they leaned up against the back of a couch with their arms around each other like high-school sweethearts. "So," Straus said, staring at me playfully. "Did you like the show? Do you think I'm talented?"

The provocateur persona can seem a front, a superheroic avatar constructed to insulate Straus from a rough and sexist industry. Ronson notes that when they first met, Straus talked about gear on a level that was almost over his head. "She's used to going into a writing session and people just condescending to her," he says. "I think part of it was nerding out, and part of it was she needed me to know that she knew how to engineer and produce records." But even if its roots are defensive, Straus's attitude has evolved into something genuinely subversive. What she is crafting in King Princess, in and around all her bluster, is a potentially new kind of rock star, or at least an old kind of rock star for a new age.

Straus is "emotionally lesbian," she says, but "culturally" a gay man: "Not really a woman, I've never been a woman. I'm a drag queen." In other words, she's a young, queer, female-presenting alpha, gleefully claiming a cultural patch of ground once mostly reserved for male artists. Watching her stalk the stage - as she did in Los Angeles that night - wearing a leather codpiece, smashing guitars into kick drums and making out with her girlfriend side-stage, you saw how last century's notions of what transgression and decadence look like in a rock star can be reclaimed and repurposed. "The way she holds a guitar - no one has held a guitar and made it look that cool since the Strokes," Ronson says.

The person pulling the persona's strings is, Straus explains, the kind of obsessive kid who has been practicing her Grammy speech in the shower since elementary school. As both person and persona prepare to join Harry Styles for European dates this spring - as well as release a forthcoming dance E.P., a homage to Diana Ross and early Madonna, a break from what she calls her "sad lesbian" repertoire - it's apparent that as magnetic as King Princess is, if she becomes a superstar, it will be because Mikaela Straus willed it.

"It's gonna be an 'I told you so' moment," she says. "I'm gonna be like, 'What were you all waiting for?'"

Straus all but grew up in a recording studio. "It was everything," she says of Mission Sound, the Williamsburg spot her father founded in 1995 and still runs. "It looks like a spaceship," she says. "I'm so horny for that. I just love gear and equipment." As a kid, tucked away and playing with musical toys in that dark, womblike space, Straus could forget how isolated and friendless she was. The only child of divorced parents, a kid with "horrible authority issues," Straus had good reasons to feel like an outsider. "I was confused why other people couldn't understand that I just wasn't a girl and I wasn't a boy," she says. "I was really confused as to what gender I was until ... now. Until tomorrow." Her future, though, seemed clear. "You know what's not a fun person to be around at age 7, 8, 9?" she asks. "Someone who knows they're going to be famous. That kid is challenging. I was a lot. I was brutal. I had a band in high school that I was brutal to, and I'm still that way, like James Brown - you get billed if you play wrong. That's my vibe."

At Avenues, a private school in Manhattan, Straus tried oral sex with boys ("I wasn't a hit - they were like, 'Please stop,.") dressed superfeminine, "felt the most gender-dysphoric ever" and discovered she harbored a seething proletariat rage; she was the resentful financial-aid kid eating Chipotle while her friends took one another out for swanky Italian at Serafina. Thanks to Mission Sound, though, Straus knew how to recognize members of her particular rock 'n' roll tribe: "It was cool people being silly, but on top of being silly and drinking and smoking and chilling, they were also there for a collective goal of making something." And through her mother, who worked in fashion, Straus found her L.G.B.T.Q. community. "My mom was really incredible about the queer men that she surrounded me with," she says. "I felt so connected to the humor and the lack of gender that these men embodied who lived through the '80s. It was all about ball. It was all about drag" - in New York's underground queer subcultures. "Everyone calls each other girl. Those things felt like home to me."

King Princess' music reflects an ongoing conversation between those two worlds - the ecstatic rage of rock and the celebratory sadness of club culture. "That moment where you hear that music and you feel like moving your body, and on top of it you're like, I think I'm gay," she tells me. "It's something all queer people share." Ask her about her influences, and she brings up "Chelsea Hotel singers" like Leonard Cohen and Patti Smith, as well as "the Princes and the Freddie Mercurys and the Eltons and the Billie Holidays and the Tina Turners." But she doesn't write, she says, with a voice or face or body in mind - just chords and melodies, often at a piano. "I never start with lyrics."

The "Cheap Queen" persona that gives form to those sounds - "evil, but fun when I'm fun" - traces back to high school, when Straus allowed the emotional "hell" she felt in middle school to harden into a weapon. The way she tells it, she bottled up all her adolescent bitterness to become a kind of sexual avenger, hooking up all over school, getting caught "all the time" and scoring an uncharacteristic A in advanced biology "because my teacher was so hot, I wanted her to love me." Other kids, she says, called her "the lesbian witch," and she developed the ability to talk them into giving her things, or else she just took them. "The boys wouldn't [expletive] with me because I'd be like, 'I will [expletive] your girlfriend,." she says. "And I did. That was my power." When Straus talks like this, it's as if she's flexing both for her audience - regaling you with fantasies of being late for basketball practice because you're under the bleachers with the cute point guard - and for herself, as if she needs to revisit her own conquests. "I've always been somebody that's wanted the attention of people that I love," she says. "And always felt disappointed."

Longing is key to Straus's creative process. In high school, the singer developed "brutal crushes on all of my straight female friends." As a wooing tactic, she would play the songs she wrote for them. It worked, so she kept doing it. King Princess' 2018 E.P., "Make My Bed," was written while Straus was enrolled in the music program at the University of Southern California. It features the wrenching "Talia," about being haunted by an ex whose lipstick she can still taste, and her other early hit, "1950," inspired by Patricia Highsmith's story about lesbian love, "The Price of Salt."

The album, "Cheap Queen," is largely about Straus's relationship with her ex-girlfriend, the actress Amandla Stenberg. ("I was like, 'Bitch, date me," Straus says. "That could have been the name of the album, and the deluxe is 'But it didn't work out.") As a songwriter, Straus is doing what straight people have done throughout the history of pop: making her pain universal. "My music is queer because I'm queer," she says. "But queer artist is not a category. You can't make a playlist for queer artists because they're not all the same. I don't want to be put in the same category as a lot of these hos. I don't like that. I want to compete with straight people. I want to fight some straight bitch to the death: Who can write a better song? I don't want to be compared to just gay people."

"Hey, Lizzo," Straus said into her iPhone, waving at the screen. We were driving from the bar in Silverlake where she shot the "Ohio" video toward her Hollywood apartment, and she was FaceTiming with Wilson, who is Lizzo's creative director, to find out when Grammy rehearsals would end so they could meet up. Straus was wearing a bucket hat, track pants and a cherry red sports bra from the AVN awards, the so-called Oscars of porn, which she had recently attended. As she hung up, "Gold Dust Woman," by Fleetwood Mac, came on the radio. "Cocaine affects how you register sound," Straus remarked. "When you listen to late-'70s Fleetwood Mac, the later stuff especially, they call it a Lindsey Buckingham mix. It's all top-end because when you're on uppers, top-end makes you happy."

Straus's egghead rock-kid brain is a roiling engine filled with industry lore and is constantly running, like spyware, in the back of her mind. "I don't think there's any place where I feel more comfortable or in control than in the studio," she says. Ronson compares her skill set - songwriting, performing, production, engineering, facility with studio gear - to that of mad-scientist prodigies like Jack White. But Straus's confidence in this arena also has the perverse effect of feeding her often-combative relationship with the music industry. She resents how little people ask her about producing her own music, how they "assume Mark produces me." (He does not.) She longs to be a name producer herself, especially for other female artists. "People complain that women don't have power," she says, "and I'm like, 'Well, the power comes from knowing how to use the computer." She said "horrible, horrible things" while watching the Grammys from home and dealt with the envy they inspired by Instagramming photos of Britney Spears in cutoff denim shorts, which, Straus says, is what she'll wear when she's cleaning up next year.

"My jealousy comes from two places," she says. "One, wanting that to be me, and two, wanting the world to be better, wanting us to be better, and feeling like I could do it."

Getting this far, this quickly, has already taken a toll. By way of measures she has put in place for maintaining mental wellness, Straus mentions therapy with her manager; "things other than music," like playing video games; and making collage art in Photoshop. "This is of Gypsy Rose Blanchard," she says, showing me an Instagram piece featuring the now-incarcerated Blanchard, a victim of Munchausen-by-proxy abuse who persuaded her boyfriend to murder her mother. "I think the fact that I'm worried is a good sign," Straus says of her mental health. "If I wasn't worried, I'd be a psycho. If you don't actively fight being a narcissist in this career, you become a monster."

Given that her version of self-care is collaging about murderous children, it was surprising to find Straus's apartment, off a leafy block in Hollywood, so airy and serene. "Yeah, I know," she said, unlocking the door and tossing her keys on the coffee table. "It's been really calm lately because I've been having adult conversations with myself. Like, Mikaela, this apartment needs to be nicer." She took a seat and cracked open a yerba mate. "And then I made it nicer." She hadn't even killed the houseplants Wilson got her.

"I'm so excited," she said, grinning as she turned on her "very advanced speaker system" - a portable Bose - and cued up the tracks from her new dance E.P. "I just realized how much of a sensibility I have for making fast music." She looked around for her Juul charger. "What I've been making is so meaningful and important to me, but it's also so reflective of a very specific side of my influences. There's this other part of me that has fun. The lyrics are still sad - it's all about being heartbroken - but it's about being heartbroken at the club."

To her left was a giant gig poster from 2009, when the ingenious South Bronx no-wave group ESG opened for Yeah Yeah Yeahs at Radio City Music Hall. Behind her was a John Waters print ("my prized possession"), and scattered throughout the light-filled apartment were assorted mini-shrines to Cate Blanchett. "I'll just play you one more," she said, scrolling through tracks on her laptop. For the moment, at least, she was barely recognizable as the Cheap Queen. She was just a 21-year-old music fan, surrounded by talismans of her heroes, so full of love for the songs she'd been making that she could barely contain the joy in her athleisure-wear-covered limbs. "Or I guess I'll play you two more," she said. "It's a new side of me that isn't so sad."

Lizzy Goodman is a journalist and the author of "Meet Me in the Bathroom," an oral history of music in New York City from 2001-11. She last wrote for the magazine about the U.S. women's national soccer team and pay equality. Arielle Bobb-Willis is a photographer from New York who was recently featured in Aperture's "The New Black Vanguard." This is her first assignment for the magazine.

Stylist: Sean Knight. Hair: Jerome Terry. Makeup: Sara Tagaloa.

Additional design and development by Jacky Myint.

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King Princess, an Old Kind of Rock Star for a New Age

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Hanging out with King Princess can feel like entering a time warp. At 21, she has the lush, broken voice of a hard-living lounge singer in a David Lynch film, and her music is similarly timeless: guitar-driven torch songs with lyrics sharpened by what sounds like a thousand years of love gone wrong.

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Defying toxing masculinity, rocking gender neutral clothing and being the king of nail polish and queer activism are Harry's superpowers. He is here to spread positivity and serve looks.

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"Queer Eye is the best thing to happen to toxic masculinity since forever. This season's cast was particularly woke, kind, and tender. They went deep into the heart of red America and brought out the best of that place.
For that, and for everything else on this list, we should be grateful."

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Jonathan Van Ness screams - and then starts crying. The Queer Eye star is sitting in a car on a cattle farm in the rural Australian town of Yass, New South Wales. As the tears stream down his face, he begins filming himself on his phone.

"I just found out Michelle Kwan followed me on Instagram and lost my mind," he tells his followers - close to a million of them on the social network, the latest of whom is the retired Olympian figure skater.

His co-star Karamo Brown pops his head into frame: "Oh, Michelle," he coos, tenderly rubbing his friend's arm. "You made our baby's dream come true!"

The resulting post, which has had almost 1m views at the time of writing, is solid Queer Eye content, encapsulating not only what fans of the reality show love about Van Ness (his inexhaustible extravagance), but also the whole cast's feelgood earnestness, the joy they take in each other and their eagerness to play up every charming moment and send it straight to social media.

Van Ness (31, the grooming expert), Brown (37, culture), Antoni Porowski (34, food), Bobby Berk (36, design) and Tan France (35, fashion) are in Yass to film a mini webisode to promote the second series of Queer Eye, in which they make over a local farmer, George, and a pub. The location was selected thanks to the pun: as Van Ness explains to the taciturn George: "'Yas queen' is a major slogan for the gays and the brunch-going ladies of the world."

As the 12-hour shoot unfolds, it becomes clear that the delight they take in each other's company - expressed through constant touching, laughing fits and compliments - is very real. After they met at auditions, the legend goes, they started a group chat titled "Fab Five" before they even knew they had made it through.

Berk and Brown are the dads of the group, loading everyone's luggage into the van, negotiating with producers, checking on belongings and ironing out the sequencing of scenes throughout the day. France, Porowski and Van Ness seem to have the most fun, slathering each other in innuendo and capturing everything on their phones. (A few days later, they run through the lavish hallways of a cruise ship at Sydney harbour in dressing gowns, giggling like children.)

The original version of the show, Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, ran from 2003 to 2007. In it, five gay men with varied expertise applied their talents to make over (or "make better") a straight man in need. It was something of a sensation in the heteronormative TV landscape of its day, but it barely skimmed the surface of its five presenters - which led some critics to ask whether it was subverting stereotypes or perpetuating them. Netflix's reboot was received with healthy scepticism, too: how would this dated idea fit in the woke new world of 2018?

But Queer Eye had undergone its own makeover, dropping the "Straight Guy" from the title and becoming less catty and more personable; the first series was responsible for some of the most heartwarming scenes of the year. Crucially, it brought in the new cast's own relationships, upbringings and coming-out stories and did not shy away from politics. Shot in the conservative US state of Georgia ("turning the red states pink" was the initial concept), it featured a Trump supporter and several committed Christians, with the cast touching on the issues this presented for the gay community.

Queer Eye is still a feelgood makeover show, but its ambitions are far greater. In one episode of the first series, the team applied their talents to help a young black gay man come out; in the second series, which will be released on Netflix on 15 June, they help a trans man in one episode and a black mother - the show's first woman - and her gay son in another.

In the webisode shot in Yass, though, the subject is a classic of the genre: George is a farmer and former bull rider, rough around the edges, who speaks his few words through a nearly unintelligible ocker accent. The cast refer to the makeover subjects as "heroes", Brown tells him. George laughs gruffly: "You lot must be hard up for heroes."

The arc of the webisode involves the Fab Five injecting a little colour into the sleepy town: Berk and Porowski do up the local pub; France and Van Ness give George a new look; and Karamo gets him to open up about what is missing from his life.

Van Ness is the biggest personality of the series - he had a podcast and a show on the website Funny or Die before he was cast - and needs to turn it up only a few notches for the camera. He comes with his own linguistic flourishes: "maje" means "major", his castmates are "booby" and "boobers" and most inanimate objects, places and even sometimes beards are referred to as "she" and "her". (Van Ness is also a "she" sometimes, depending on her mood.) George, says Van Ness, has not got a spot of sunburn - he has "a baby bit of skin dam".

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Down on the farm ... George (right) and his son, Levi, who nominated him for Queer Eye. Photograph: Carly Earl/The Guardian

Van Ness's challenge in Yass is to get the Aussie bloke to talk during a makeshift day spa. Mostly, George grunts noncommittally, so Van Ness ends up riffing wildly from thought to thought. "Have you ever seen the movie Crossroads with Britney Spears?"; "Valentine's Day 2012 was a bleak day for all of us ... I'm still beside myself over Whitney."

But then he cuts to the chase: "Do you know what toxic masculinity is? That is what has your ass working seven days a week with no fucking sunscreen on your face, not giving yourself any love, because society told you that you didn't need it ... You've got to take care of yourself!"

This idea is at the crux of Queer Eye and most episodes end in happy tears - but it is hard to see it working on George. So, when Brown takes him for a walk-and-talk around his property, it surprises all of us - including the production team - when, within minutes, George starts crying. "What are you thinking about?" Brown asks him, before going in for a hug. George answers quietly: "I'm thinking about Mum."

Brown's ability to open up each hero is the lifeblood of the show. Berk, who has to renovate and fill entire homes in a week, thinks Brown has the hardest job: "It definitely takes a toll on him emotionally - and mentally and physically as well."

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'The delight they take in each other's company is very real' ... Karamo Brown, Jonathan Van Ness and Tan France in Yass, New South Wales. Photograph: Carly Earl/The Guardian

Brown says: "I have a background in psychotherapy and social work. When I came in to auditions, I was like: 'I have to fix the insides.' They said: 'If you can show us you can get to the core of somebody within a minute, then you can do it.' And I was like: 'You think that's a challenge?'" So they "brought someone in", Brown says, and he proved it.

Brown speaks with a gravitas that could lend emotional weight to even the emptiest cliche. A lot of his answers begin with: "I have to be honest with you."

"Most people have never been listened to and they've never been asked questions that they want to be asked," he says. "I just don't shy away from asking those questions quickly. When I saw George had a reaction to my question, I didn't speak. A lot of people feel like they need to fill that silence and I don't. I hold him and I say: 'What's going on?'" (Later, George tells me that conversation was "a mind-changing deal".)

When Brown was cast on MTV's The Real World in 2004, he became the first openly gay black man on reality TV.Three years later, he was notified by an ex that he was the father of a 10-year-old, Jason. He adopted Jason that year and, later, Jason's half-brother.

Brown was friends with one of the teachers killed in the school shooting in Parkland, Florida, in February and he has used his platform to speak publicly about gun violence. In one of series one's most talked-about scenes, a police officer pulls over the cast and asks Brown, who is driving, to step out of the car.

He looks panicked: a black man pulled over by a white cop in a red state knows exactly how quickly things can escalate. Eventually, the cop reveals it was a prank and the two embrace for the cameras, but the scene has been criticised for being a tone-deaf stunt. (In fact, the cast draw straws to decide who gets to drive each day; the racial dynamic to the scene was unplanned.) But Brown says the conversation it raised - cut down to a few minutes on screen - was worth it.

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'They said: "If you can show us you can get to the core of somebody within a minute, then you can do it." And I was like: "You think that's a challenge?"' ... Karamo Brown. Photograph: Carly Earl/The Guardian

Yass's Tripadvisor page lists its information centre as the No 1 thing to do in the town; no wonder the Queer Eye visit is a big moment for many locals. Nicole Godding, the owner of a clothes store in the town, has been a fan since the show's first iteration. The day the crew arrived, she tried to lure them into her shop by "pumping" Kylie Minogue at full volume. She debated tempting Porowski with a basket full of avocados, or getting her "hot younger husband" to pose out front. When I tell Porowski this, he clutches his chest and moans in glee. "Oh my Goooood! We must MEET HER!"

Porowski comes into our interview room wearing a cocked grin and a letter jacket. His mouth curls playfully as he talks about why he is drawn to taste and smell everything he sees, from licking rotting food to sniffing his feet after a workout. ("I'm a sensory person!" he laughs.) As the New Yorker's food writer Helen Rosner wrote of his appeal: "He is never shown holding a puppy, but he seems at any time like he might be."

Porowski has had more relationships with women than men, but he has been with his boyfriend for seven years. He describes his sexuality as "fluid"; he says it took him a while to feel comfortable saying the "queer" in "Queer Eye".

"I've definitely had my share of internalised homophobia and I've read a lot of gay lit to try to access that and understand it better," he says. His reading list includes Oscar Wilde's De Profundis and Alan Hollinghurst's The Sparsholt Affair. Meeting his castmates - particularly Van Ness - has helped him grow more comfortable with who he is. "There's something very freeing and childlike and innocent in the way he is, because he's so much himself - and he's only ever known how to be himself," he says of Van Ness.

Bob Vulfov (@bobvulfov)
[queer eye]
jonathan: a little lip scrub goes a long way
antoni: hummus is the guacamole of the middle east
tan: try wearing a short sleeve shirt with a collar
karamo: look in the mirror and say something u like about urself
bobby: i have built u a brand new house from scratch
March 2, 2018

Porowski lives with "a lot of imposter syndrome", he says. While he has a passion for cooking, he is the only member of the cast whose expertise is not professional: a former actor and model, he was introduced to the Queer Eye producers by Ted Allen, a neighbour of Porowski who was one of the original show's cast members.

"I've never once referred to myself as a chef," he says, admitting to a fear of "not being good enough to be able to cook for people and teach them how to cook". It did not help when, after series one launched, people began noticing the apparent simplicity of his meals: a cheese toastie, here; guacamole there; a sliced grapefruit served with avocado. "The guacamole was just a side!" Porowski shouts in mock frustration. Series two showcases a lot more of his cooking; his new motto is not to read anything unless his agent or manager sends it to him. "It's a curated life now."

The cast get a few moments to break loose from the set and explore. The Yass locals who recognise them are given selfies and hugs. People call into the community radio station throughout the day, speculating where the cast may be - at one point, Berk calls the host, unprompted, to tell them all they are wrong. The show's publicist, who has spent the day denying access to all media, throws up his arms in defeat.

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'I've never once referred to myself as a chef' ... Antoni Porowski. Photograph: Carly Earl/The Guardian

Berk, who runs his own interior design company, puts in the most hours, spending a couple of weeks planning a renovation that will be carried out over five days. "I may work quiiiite a few more days a week than the rest of them," he admits, "but at least I know what I'm stepping into."

Berk's difficult childhood was introduced in series one: he was raised in an extremely religious family and "spent every Sunday crying and begging God to not make me gay". When he was outed at 16, his parents, who had adopted him, rejected him; he left the family home. "There were many years that we didn't speak, but it's been a long time now that we've been close again," he says. When he was cast, he bought them a smart TV. "They're really cute - they love the show!" But he has not reconciled with his former church.

In the second series, the cast make over Tammye, whose life revolves around her church. At one point, the cast are invited inside, but Berk refuses to set foot through the door. He looks genuinely shaken.

"One of the things I told [the production company] when I got cast was: 'I'll do anything, but just don't ask me to go into a church,'" he says. The Tammye episode was last-minute, after the hero they had planned to feature became ill. "At one point I was like: 'I'm not going to do the episode.'" In the end, he decided to do it for "all the little Bobbys" still sitting in those churches "hearing the hate a lot of them preach".

Brown, who is religious, helped Berk through that moment with a series of conversations that Brown describes as more difficult than any he has had on the show. "I was trying to say: 'You've gotta let go of the hurt and forgive. Because the fact that you haven't forgiven yet is holding you back and it's hurting you," he says. "The show is not about us, so you don't see all that."

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Doing it for 'all the little Bobbys' ... Bobby Berk at a wildlife park in Sydney, Australia. Photograph: Don Arnold/Getty Images

Another of series two's episodes focuses on Skylar, a trans man recovering after top

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Queer Eye's Fab Five on how they are changing men - one makeover at a time

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Jonathan Van Ness screams - and then starts crying. The Queer Eye star is sitting in a car on a cattle farm in the rural Australian town of Yass, New South Wales. As the tears stream down his face, he begins filming himself on his phone.

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"Historically, "sissy" has been used as an insult against feminine-seeming men. Ru-Paul’s Drag Race not only reclaims the word – “now sissy that walk” is the phrase said at the top of each catwalk, usually preceding a demonstration of almost gob-smacking creativity – but shows that adopting a truly feminine character requires massive amounts of charisma and self-confidence."

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Historically, "sissy" has been used as an insult against feminine-seeming men. Ru-Paul's Drag Race not only reclaims the word - "now sissy that walk" is the phrase said at the top of each catwalk, usually preceding a demonstration of almost gob-smacking creativity - but shows that adopting a truly feminine character requires massive amounts of charisma and self-confidence. The show is wildly popular with women, not simply because of the incredible looks and transformations served by each queen, but because it is a celebration of feminine mystique in all its forms.

5. Holding Out Hope

The little show that could has turned into a global behemoth, with tours around the world each year, and an annual convention in Los Angeles. Last year, a second US convention launched in New York, while London hosted the first European edition, DragWorld UK, which saw a number of the show's queens and RuPaul's right-hand judge, Michelle Visage, holding court. And as fabulous, glamorous and downright funny as the queens are, the real joy came from seeing the response of teenagers to meeting their idols. RuPaul and Visage are giving hope to lost kids around the world, whatever their gender, ethnic background or sexuality. By sharing their stories, the Drag Race contestants are giving comfort and inspiration to viewers, as well as swathes of entertainment.

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BBC Sounds - Unpopped - How RuPaul's Drag Race Made the World a Better Place

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Historically, "sissy" has been used as an insult against feminine-seeming men. Ru-Paul's Drag Race not only reclaims the word - "now sissy that walk" is the phrase said at the top of each catwalk, usually preceding a demonstration of almost gob-smacking creativity - but shows that adopting a truly feminine character requires massive amounts of charisma and self-confidence.

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Queer Eye's Jonathan Van Ness. You're welcome.

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Imagine Jonathan Van Ness swooping into your life. Picture him tossing his gleaming, down-to-his-clavicle hair and strutting into your living room armed with all the styling necessities - dental floss, products for zuzsh-ing your curls - and fussing over everything about you that is already gorgeous, gorgeous, GOR-GEOUS, but also just, like, a little basic and a tiny bit sad. But by the time he's done with you, honey, you will be fierce, you will be owning it, you will leave Van Ness no choice but to ask: Who gave you permission to be this cute?

Van Ness, 31, is a breakout star on a breakout show, the grooming czar and one-man meme-machine of "Queer Eye," whose second season is now available on Netflix. For the streaming giant's first foray into unscripted television, five gay men were dispatched to the wilds of Georgia to preach the gospel of hygiene, fashion and confidence to men who live in one of the most conservative states in the country. (Season 2 expanded its reach, with episodes featuring a woman and a transgender man.) When it premiered in February, "Queer Eye" quickly became must-see streaming, a heartwarming hour that made even cynics sob; the poster for Season 2 put pictures of the guys on a box of tissues with the ad copy, "I'm not crying, you're crying."

What first intrigued Van Ness about the new "Queer Eye" was its tagline: "Turning red states pink, one makeover at a time." Although many progressives saw the 2016 election results as a sign to retreat into whatever coastal bubble couldn't be popped by people who put Donald Trump in the White House, the idea of a televised charmed offensive appealed to Van Ness, who grew up in rural Quincy, Illinois, just across the Mississippi River from Mark Twain's hometown.

"Truly in the middle of the country," Van Ness said by phone.

Van Ness was already adored in some corners of the internet for his Emmy Award-nominated Web series, "Gay of Thrones," and his podcast, "Getting Curious." "Queer Eye" seemed like "an interesting vehicle for me to do something I love to do, which is doing hair and entertaining people," he said. And without commercials wasting real estate, Van Ness thought there would be space to make "something that could be soulful."

Technically "Queer Eye" is a reboot of "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy," which premiered on Bravo in 2003, brought the word metrosexual into the lexicon and went off the air four years later. But really, it's a reboot of Cinderella. There's no put-upon heroine, but there are civilians who have let themselves go.

There's no fairy godmother, but instead the Fab Five: Bobby redecorates entire homes; Karamo, the culture expert, basically just reminds each week's subject that, "Hey, you've got this." Tan, the style guide, sweet-talks skittish men into embracing pops of color and patterned shirts. Antoni oversees food and wine, but his Season 1 lessons were so rudimentary (he mostly caressed avocados) that internet conspiracy theorists suspected he didn't even know how to cook. (He's so handsome, who cares? Leave Antoni alone!)

And then there's Van Ness, the quippiest, peppiest of the bunch. He is there to see underlying beauty and excavate it, to evangelize for self-care and to shake everybody out of rigid gender roles that keep us from loving and expressing ourselves as wholeheartedly as he does. "To me, self-care isn't really shallow," he said. "Showing up for yourself, putting on a little moisturizer, can inspire so many different parts of your life."

Van Ness finds inspiration from his adolescence, in which he faced constant rejection for not meeting society's standards of what a boy should be.

"I was really, really, really feminine, and really into cheerleading, and really into figure skating and really into gymnastics. Really into everything that other boys weren't," he said.

Now, Van Ness is on a mission to enlighten men who have internalized the idea that cutting your toenails or applying sunscreen makes you feminine, and that there's something wrong with being feminine, an idea he will disprove while wearing French braids and see-through lace tops.

"I wish I had more of a game plan of how I'm going to, like, take down toxic masculinity," he said. "But I think that game plan is just going to reveal itself if we keep going. I think I need to keep plugging along, and it'll happen."

John Paul Brammer, a writer and cultural critic for them., an LGBTQ website at Conde Nast, said that Van Ness is the beating heart of "Queer Eye" and that his fan-favorite status reminds him of the reception Adam Rippon received at the 2018 Olympics.

"We really haven't seen a whole lot of openly gay, flamboyant people get so much, not just acceptance, but outright adoration," Brammer said. "Straight people do love caricatures (and) the idea of the sassy gay. ... And that can be a very one-dimensional reading of what gay people are. But I do think Jonathan sort of turns that on its head for me. When I see him on the show, and I see just how willing and daring he is to be so outright, openly gay with these straight people. There's something kind of radical about the way he prances around in there."

On top of the standard delights of renovation television, "Queer Eye" offers an irresistible fantasy: that if everyone in America could spend a week with these guys, acceptance would be the law of the land. Hate, burning bright as a tiki torch out in the real world, all but evaporates under the heat of Van Ness's blow drier. His catch phrase is the crux of the show: Can you believe?

Can you believe that a fantastic haircut and properly fitting pants will change your life? Or, a higher-stakes proposition: Can you believe in the possibility of connecting with other people, no matter what their politics, even now? Can you believe that Van Ness - who, as the first male cheerleader at his high school in Quincy had homophobic slurs spray-painted on his car - can see something gorgeous in the proud owner of a Make America Great Again hat?

That's the tension at the core of "Queer Eye."

"It's the big moral crisis at the center of the time we find ourselves in," Brammer said. He notes liberals' initial post-election desire to get to know Republicans, a feeling that, within months of Trump's inauguration, was replaced by a complete refusal to engage.

"'Queer Eye' lands in this more centrist space," Brammer said. "We just love everyone; we just want to get to know each other. And I think there's wisdom to it. There have always been queer people whose role that is, and it's a necessary one."

Even though Brammer thinks "Queer Eye" offers an unrealistic representation of what needs to happen to make queer people more fully accepted, he still adores the show. "It works on me. All of its manipulations of my emotions work perfectly."

For what it's worth, Van Ness believes. And beneath his bubbly surface, there's a simmering urgency: We have to believe. Because what happens if we don't?

Take Tom, from the series premiere, a conservative, middle-aged white man whose beverage of choice is a tequila and Mountain Dew cocktail he calls a "redneck margarita."

"I do not want to know his political beliefs," Van Ness said. "Because we're not going to see eye-to-eye, and that's not the point."

"It's more about human connection than it is about politics," he said. "We don't all have to agree on everything. ... Sometimes it's just about trying to connect on what you can connect on, because the human existence and experience is all about connection."

Van Ness has certainly experienced a connection with his legion of new fans. This month, he found himself on a float at the Los Angeles Pride Parade.

"I felt like Meghan Markle, like, on this float. Literally," Van Ness said. "People were crying. When people would realize that it was me, people were literally rushing the float, freaking out. I was clutching my pearls and just like, waving and blowing kisses."

Still, as Season 2 brings Van Ness more admirers, "I don't want to be like, pretentious or a nightmare," he said. "I don't want to lose the essence of myself. I had to fight, a lot of years, to be really proud of the person I see in the mirror, and really love this person. ... I don't want to lose my little baby essence."

Most Read on Chicago Tribune

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'Queer Eye's' Jonathan Van Ness is a one-man meme machine ready to take down toxic masculinity

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Imagine Jonathan Van Ness swooping into your life. Picture him tossing his gleaming, down-to-his-clavicle hair and strutting into your living room armed with all the styling necessities - dental floss, products for zuzsh-ing your curls - and fussing over everything about you that is already gorgeous, gorgeous, GOR-GEOUS, but also just, like, a little basic and a tiny bit sad.

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Podcasts are a great way to connect to to the global LGBTI community.

They can transport you to a conversation, no matter who you are, or where you are in the world.

Which is why for the Gay Star News Digital Pride festival we brought together some of the best new and up-and-coming LGBTI podcasts from across the world to talk about loneliness and isolation - this year's theme of the festival.

But don't just listen to them during Digital Pride, this is our guide to the best LGBTI podcasts out there right now.

Download, subscribe and take these shows, and the Digital Pride festival, with you. You can see the collection on Spotify this week and in their Pride section.
Digital Pride is the only global Pride dedicated to enabling everyone to be part of a Pride, whoever they are and wherever they live in the world. This year, we are focusing on tackling loneliness and isolation. It takes place on Gay Star News from 29 April to 5 May 2019. Find out more or watch the videos now:
Food 4 Thot

No it's not about food - they just really liked the pun. In this podcast, a multiracial mix of queer writers talk about sex, relationships, race, identity Listen every week as Dennis Norris II, Joseph Osmundson, Tommy Pico, and Fran Tirado talk what they like to read, and who we like to read. Produced by the Forever Dog Podcast Network.

Throwing Shade

Throwing Shade is the political comedy podcast hosted by Erin Gibson and Bryan Safi who deliver their fresh takes on pop culture, women's rights, and LGBT rights with hilarity and - of course - vulgarity. Out every Thursday.

On The Latch

What happens when seven gay men come together to record a podcast? On The Latch is a podcast where no topic is off limits. And yes, expect thot provoking material ahead. They have a new episode every Tuesday. They ask you to send in your dilemmas and dick pics for them to discuss to onthelatchpodcast [at] gmail.com.

A Gay and a Non Gay

In a time where we're all threatened by hateful rhetoric from the people in power; A Gay And A NonGay is the delightful giggles that challenge many of our differences head-on. Every week James Barr (the Gay) and Dan Hudson (the Nongay) promises to prove to you that no matter who you are, or what you're into (Bruce Springsteen or Britney), love is love and gay and nongays can be friends.

#QueerAF

Listen for free every week, as a different student, graduate or LGBT+ producer tells their most #QueerAF story on the podcast by National Student Pride. The podcast commissions young LGBT+ producers to tell their own stories that are beyond the binary, sex-positive, challenge mental health, sexuality and identity taboos.

Nominated for a British Podcast Award in 2019; From chemsex, the life of a queer Muslim sex worker, and dating as a non-binary person - the show is sex-positive and taps into what young LGBTI people are talking about because it is told by them.

Digital Pride episode: S3 E10, ' The story behind the musical, Everybody's Talking About Jamie'
Best episode to start with: Start with 'I'm gay, but I'm also a homophobe' the inspiring story recorded over several months as Sean overcomes his internal hatred of his own sexuality.
Spotify / Apple

The Real Brunch

The ultimate weekly pop culture and dating podcast. Hosted By LGBTI podcaster Martin Joseph and friends Ella Kora and Becky Herszenhorn. Join 'The Real Brunch' every week for your weekly dose of celebrity gossip, dating dilemmas and round table topical discussions.

Featuring interviews with inspiring and powerful women and important voices from the LGBTQ+ community - this show is everything brunch should deliver. (Bring your own prosecco and avocado)

F**Ks Given

The honest, frank and refreshing 'F**ks Given' with Come Curious presents a candid exploration of their guests' sexual histories, from the first f**k to the best f**k. Plus all those the bad, average and comical ones in between. Each episode is an uncensored look at what's gone on beneath the sheets with a variety of coveted guests.

Busy Being Black

Busy Being Black is ultimately a love letter to the queer Black community. On the show, hosted by Josh Rivers, guests regularly speak about combatting loneliness, isolation, shame, stigma and mental health - in order to live more fully in their lives. It features incredible guests each week and is a mixture of inspiration and taboo-breaking conversations.

Calum McSwiggan on Fubar

YouTuber Calum McSwiggan explores everything sex, LGBT+, the outrageous and downright inappropriate! The world's top drag queens, the UK's most passionate activists and the funniest names around join Calum each week to discuss everything from trending topics and the porn industry to fetishes and queer representation in the media.

Regular features include reacting to listeners sex confessions and some naughty games for good measure. You can listen live on Fubar at 6pm GMT - or listen back in your podcast app.

Qmmunity

Qmmunity is the LGBTQ+ series that brings together our community to explore who we are as a whole and as individuals. But it also looks back at where we have come from, how we've changed & developed and what the future may hold for us.

Hosts Christina and Alexis meet weekly and are joined by a guest to discuss a new topic. The QmmunityPod won the silver British Podcast 'Sex and Relationships' award.

Queer Confessions

In this new podcast, Jacob Edward has rounded up their favorite Queers to spilling the tea on their past and YOURS! If you want relatable stories about growing up queer and advice for you the listeners on how to deal with your embarrassing moments - this is the show for you.

Digital Pride episode: S1, E1 'It's Ben Hodge'
Best episode to start with: The show is brand new, listen from the top of the feed.
Spotify / Apple

Queers

What the hell is queer theory? Who gets to identify as queer? Does it mean anything to call yourself a "queer ally"? These are the kinds of questions writers Benjamin Riley (writer and journalist) and Simon Copland (PhD Student in Sociology) ask on Queers, a discussion and interview podcast about critical queer politics and culture.

Digital Pride episode: 'Foxhole Fantasy'
Best episode to start with: The show is super topical, so start at the most recent episode.
Spotify / Apple

Men Talk Health

Just how honest can two men be? Long term Gay Star News supporters, Men Talk Health is the podcast with hosts that have a broad history of mental health issues between them.

Join Davey, Damian, and their friends on a journey to find humour in some of their darkest moments. It's all to try to get men talking about their own mental health.

Though they aren't part of the Digital Pride festival - if you've got this far and are big LGBTI podcast fan - you should also check out these shows:

David's Out For A Good Time

The Spotify Studios original from the Tumblr star who set the world on fire with 'The Shitney Spears' blog. David Olshanetsky is joined by Naledi Dube to chat pop culture, dish out LGBTI advice and speak to amazing celebrity guests every week. We're big fans of #DO4AGT here at Gay Star News.
Listen exclusively on Spotify
Making Gay History

Intimate, personal portraits of both known and long-forgotten champions, heroes, and witnesses to history brought to you from rare archival interviews. This long-running podcast from Eric Marcus is a masterpiece. We're looking forward to the new season and upcoming #Stonewall50 episodes.

Nancy

From the masters of podcasts, WNYC, Nancy hosts and BFFs Kathy Tu and Tobin Low are the super queer duo ready take over your podcast feed. Join them for provocative stories and frank conversations about the LGBTQ experience today. Because everyone's a little bit gay. There are so many fantastic stories in this feed including personal stories from the hosts, the audience and contributors all over the US. We feel part of a global LGBTI community listening to your show.

Dan Savage's Lovecast

Probably a front runner as one of the longest-running LGBTI podcasts out there, Dan Savage has been improving your sex for over 600 episodes - and still going strong. A community favorite, mixing conversations about sex and politics, we'd be amiss not to nod to the Savage Lovecast.

Digital Pride brings same-sex intimacy to Times Square

This video of a same-sex couple dancing to fight loneliness is so important

How this cuddle club for gay and bi men fights loneliness with intimacy

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12 gay, queer and LGBT podcasts you should listen to right now

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Podcasts are a great way to connect to to the global LGBTI community. They can transport you to a conversation, no matter who you are, or where you are in the world.

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TikTok ist eine relativ neue Plattform, auf der Leute kurze Videos herunterladen können. Queere Menschen haben die Möglichkeit gefunden, sich und ihre Kämpfe auf komödiantische Weise auszudrücken.
Genieße einige Meisterwerke!

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James Charles Calls out Tik Tok stars for queer baiting

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Pacifica Radio was the first listener-sponsored non-commercial radio network in the United States to air queer voices beginning with Allen Ginsberg reading his iconic poem, Howl on KPFA-FM in Berkeley, California in 1956. From that broadcast, Pacifica stations KPFK-FM (LA), WBAI-FM (NYC), KPFT-FM (Houston), and WPFW-FM (Washington, D.C.) have consistently given space to the LGBTQI community and perspective over 60 years, creating a vibrant recorded history relatively unknown and vastly under-researched.

What survives of the broadcasts are largely found in the Pacifica Radio Archives (and other repositories) and documented in the printed station program folio guides (1949–2005) and consumer catalogues.

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One of the longest running LGBTQ+ radio shows in Canada, QueerFM Vancouver blends current events, arts and culture, news and entertainment with a focus on LGBTTQ+ involvement and queer talent locally and abroad. Broadcasting from Vancouver, Canada and stuffed into the earholes of the world! Check

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Leider konnte ich nicht alle diese "Screenshots" hochladen, aber Leute, trust me sie sind MILLIONEN

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queerbaiting | 59.6M people have watched this. Watch short videos about #queerbaiting on TikTok.

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Gay literature is a collective term for literature produced by or for the LGBT community which involves characters , plot lines, and/or themes portraying male homosexual behavior. The term is now used most commonly to cover specifically gay male literature, with a separate genre of lesbian lteratur existing for women. Historically, the term "gay literature" was sometimes used to cover both gay male and lesbian literatures.

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In the 21st century, much of LGBT literature has achieved a high level of sophistication and many works have earned mainstream acclaim.LGBT themes have also become more visible in a growing body of high-quality young adult literature.  Becky Albertalli's teen novel Simon vs. te Homo Sapiens Agenda was adapted into the feature film Love , Simon by 2oth Century Fox , the first film by a major studio focused on a gay teenage romance

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Pose: a new FX original show Impact on the LGBTQ+ community 

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Pose: a new FX original show Impact on the LGBTQ+ community 

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Young queers, comment on the new unconventional series, which seems to accurately present their own history, queer history.
(Jugendliche aus der queeren "Community" kommentieren die neue Serie, die ganz gut die Geschichte der LGBTQ+ "Community" und deren Schwierigkeiten presäntiert.)

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That representation is what viewers say make the show endearing to a new generation of LGBTQIA+ people who are looking for media and pop-culture to tell authentic stories, qualifying their existence.

Throughout season two, Blanca and Pray Tell, a black elder and ballroom host, shift from utter devastation at how the HIV crisis ravaging their community is being ignored by the U.S. government to organizing with AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power, a real grassroots political organization that started in 1987. They also utilized activism to help Blanca fight to get her nail salon back. By showing the realities of how the LGBTQIA+ POC community fought, suffered, and thrived amidst the AIDS epidemic, Pose inspires new generations to learn their histories and to fight for their community today.

For Andre Lawes Menchavez, a 20-year-old San Franciscan that has worked with GLAAD and been a content creator at Queerspace Magazine the representation that Pose presents is important because it allows younger LGBTQIA+ people to connect with characters that mirror their own experiences or inspire.

"She [Blanca] sees a lot of systematic issues within our own community, such as her own discrimination within the white gay community, and isn't afraid to tackle them on," Andre says. "All the work I do in my life is to ensure that young queer kids of color, especially those who have faced the complexity of being both Asian and queer, don't have to face the struggles I once did."

Another example of this activism exemplified is Sameer Jha, a 16-year-old from the Bay Area that watched Pose and has worked to make schools safer and more inclusive with their non-profit, The Empathy Alliance. Their experiences being bullied in school compelled them to advocate for other LGBTQIA+ people by establishing their school's first Gay-Straight Alliance, collaborate with organizations, like GLAAD, on projects, and to publish Read This, Save Lives, a book that helps teachers create safer classrooms for queer youth.

For Sameer, Pose shows the power of personal and collective liberation, "I know that even today people in our community feel differently, but I think succeeding as a queer person of color in a world hostile to us and fighting for change are both valid forms of activism."

Adding, "When we aren't telling our own stories, they can become one-dimensional tales of tragedy and despair. Pose not only gives us representation of writers, actors, and crew but also shows the range of the queer person of color experience. There's love, discrimination, kindness, success, and pain all together. Additionally, Pose gives us a glimpse into our untold history, one I never saw in school textbooks or History Channel documentaries."

With the show's humanizing of people living with HIV/AIDS, especially people of color, Pose connects to the challenges the realities of today. In 2019 alone, there have been 16 known murders of trans women, most of whom were black. With tonight's finale for season two, another chapter of conscious queer representation is closed and the next generation can continue to be inspired by it for years to come.

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What Young LGBTQIA People of Color Are Saying About "Pose" Season 2

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That representation is what viewers say make the show endearing to a new generation of LGBTQIA+ people who are looking for media and pop-culture to tell authentic stories, qualifying their existence. Throughout season two, Blanca and Pray Tell, a black elder and ballroom host, shift from utter devastation at how the HIV crisis ravaging their community is being ignored by the U.S.

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Wie die queere Generation Z sich humorvoll durchTikTok äußert

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Wie die queere Generation Z sich humorvoll durchTikTok äußert

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TikTok ist ein neues Trend, das eigentlich ganz ähnlich dem älteren Trend "Vine" ist.
Durch diese kreative und "bunte" Videos, können sich die Mitglieder der queeren "Community" frei ausdrücken und ein "safe space" für Verständnis und Unterstützung der LGBTQ+ Kultur haben.

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LGBTQ+ TikToks: Where Gen Z humor meets queer acceptance

I couldn't place the feeling, deep within my gut, but it was as though it had always been there. A fluttering sense, flighty at the touch, when I looked at her. She wasn't just the girl who I played trapeze with on the middle school playground. There were so many versions of the beautiful cross country runner I competed with on the course and the girl with the oversized sweatshirt in my introductory Spanish class. Whoever she was, I always felt nervous around her. I would think about her all the time, as painful as it was. I would retrace every detail of her - the way she tilted her head back when she laughed or the way she rolled her eyes, hazel with indignation, at ignorant comments - in remembrance of something I could never have.

It took me a long time to place my feelings for for what they truly were. The heteronormative Indian culture I grew up in, along with the wealthy, majority white hometown where I was raised, made it much harder for me to understand and accept myself. It wasn't until the second year of college, emboldened by the liberality of the UC Berkeley community, that I began to come to terms with my bisexuality. It was also around that time when I stumbled upon something as wildly unexpected as it was undeniably relevant: gay TikToks.

I was first introduced to TikToks when I nostalgically searched for old Vine compilations on YouTube. The first suggestion I read was "Tiktoks that radiate vine energy." Confused, I turned to Google to learn about this social platform.

I learned that TikToks were 15-second viral videos featuring creative content, such as lip-syncing, singing, dancing, stand-up routines and more. Users could customize their creations by adding sound bites, visual effects and voice-overs. I was especially surprised to discover the sphere of LGBTQ+ content within the TikTok platform as I scrolled through titles such as " LGBT tik toks because we burnin anyways " and " LGBT tik toks for my fellow gays ."

As I watched video after video, I came to understand the importance of these TikToks in leveraging creative humor to create a space of support and understanding for the LGBTQ+ community. I began to observe distinctive trends among the videos, slight motifs and themes that worked to create a sphere of LGBTQ+ cultural influence.

These video trends establish a sense of belonging in the sense that others can participate in the trends and, in doing so, weave their own experiences into the broader communal narrative.

For example, many videos feature a so-called sexuality check, where creators enthusiastically shout their sexual orientation and proceed to demonstrate a series of personal behaviors and characteristics that they associate with their sexuality. I watched as dozens of women used the voice-over for "lesbian check," while proceeding to display social notions and expectations associated with their sexuality, such as owning several flannel shirts, wearing manly shoes and riding skateboards.

At first glance, many aspects of the sexuality check appear to be tightly correlated to stereotypical expectations of sexuality. I feel, however, that they actually allow queer individuals to reclaim their own perceptions of sexuality through listing aspects of their identities in an expressive audiovisual format. In addition, these video trends establish a sense of belonging in the sense that others can participate in the trends and, in doing so, weave their own experiences into the broader communal narrative.

Another socially relevant trend among LGBTQ+ TikToks is when creators list problems commonly faced by individuals within their orientation group. For example, a viral TikTok discussing the problems of being bisexual features a man dancing, while text blocks with statements like "I thought you were gay" appear on the screen behind him. I found such TikToks to be both dryly funny and sad, which I believe to be an essential part of the humor of LGBTQ+ culture. TikToks like "Problems with being bi" leverage self-deprecating humor and overly exaggerated effects to draw humor from, while also bringing attention to the daily discrimination that such individuals endure. Not only that, these videos work to make awareness of LGBTQ+ issues accessible by using comedy as a tool for social commentary.

And I feel that, to some extent, these seemingly inconsequential TikToks are actually pushing the envelope of societal discussion and awareness of the LGBTQ+ community. The most memorable of such TikToks, in my opinion, were ones that used the same dry, deadpan humor to point out the hypocrisy of homophobic rhetoric.

Several TikToks feature scenes such as an LGBTQ+ individual pretending to sleep, while the captions reads "Christians when the bible says hair dye, piercings & tattoos are a sin." These TikToks are in reference to the complacency of Christians toward socially normalized acts that the Bible refers to as sins. This TikTok then shows the creator rising in anger, while the text above them reads "Christians when they see anyone whos apart of the LGBT."

What stands out to me about these videos is not only the accuracy of their portrayal of homophobic hypocrisy. Moreover, these TikToks allow for LGBTQ+ individuals to reclaim the rhetoric of shame and discrimination surrounding queerness by both taking on the role of and combatting homophobia.

When I look back at all the gay TikToks I've watched over the semester, it seems crazy to think that such short, innoucously simple videos can yield such a strong cultural and societal impact. And on a personal level, it's strange to think about how these 15-second videos have played such a strong role in my journey to accept and fully understand myself, as well as the community I belong to. When I wanted a quick break from grinding through late-night homework assignments, I watched short TikTok compilations. When I felt lost and confused about my sexuality and the way I felt I was supposed to present myself, I watched "Bisexual TikToks to feel valid outside of #pridemonth."
Contact Riya Berry at [email protected] .
I hope that, as TikTok comes to the forefront of the social media sphere, the LGBTQ+ subcommunity it has given rise to continues to flourish and strengthen. I hope that these short, viral videos continue to spark important conversations, while creating havens for people to creatively and authentically express themselves. But most importantly, I hope that LGBTQ+ TikToks revolutionize the awareness and understanding of queer issues. I hope that they become as recognized and understood as common Vines, memes and phenomena embedded into our cultural understanding of queerness. Because at the end of the day, it's 2019. It's time for queer acceptance to go viral.

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Weekender | How LGBTQ+ TikToks are spreading queer acceptance

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I couldn't place the feeling, deep within my gut, but it was as though it had always been there. A fluttering sense, flighty at the touch, when I looked at her. She wasn't just the girl who I played trapeze with on the middle school playground.

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Deutsche Romane über die LGBTQ+ Community und das Abschaffen des Patriarchats und der gesellschaftlichen Normen 

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Deutsche Romane über die LGBTQ+ Community und das Abschaffen des Patriarchats und der gesellschaftlichen Normen 

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"Memes" sind lustige Bilder mit "captions", die sehr verbreitet  in den heutigen Medien sind. (meistens beim Twitter oder Pinterest)

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1. Stone Butch Blues by Leslie Feinberg (Amerika mitte 20.Jahrhunderts)

2. We the Animals by Justin Torres (Puerto Ricans in New York)

3. Like a Woman by Debra Busman (Geschicten von Frauen in Los Angeles)

4. Bottle Rocket Hearts by Zoe Whittall (feministisch, Montreal Ende 20. Jahrhunderts)

5. George by Alex Gino (Kinderliteratur)

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Queer Literature Top Five | The Center for Fiction

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The author of Lost Boi picks five of hir current favorites from LGBTQ fiction.