Black gay clubs sf

Over 30 years later, Barnette speaks about why Black-affirming queer spaces are still needed, and what he took away from his experience operating one. Below are lightly edited excerpts of the episode with Rodney Barnette and his daughter Sadie Barnette. Corey Antonio Rose: Tell me about your first time getting adjusted to the gay community here in San Francisco.

Gay of the activity was on Polk Street, but black things shifted to the Castro district. They started opening more restaurants … and the more white gay men that came, the more racist it got. The bartender, they were always white and they would bypass you. Some of them had goons as security guards.

There were fights that broke out at places that I went to that got so humiliating that I swore I would not go back because it can be dangerous for me or somebody else to be there. You know, things were so bad that they even created racist language to depict if a white gay guy had Black gay friends or was attracted to Black people.

They came up with the term Dinge queen—Dinge means dirty. Corey Antonio Rose: narration We brunch now, but back in the club, the bars were the cornerstone of the queer social scene … How are you supposed to feel welcome in a community if you have to defend your humanity every time you go out? Corey Antonio Rose: Eventually you got the impetus to start to own a bar, to start a bar.

But where did it come from?

Legacy in pink: First Black-owned gay bar in San Francisco reborn as art at the Walker

Rodney Barnette: There was a bar back in the 70s that Black people felt comfortable going to. It was not in the Castro, It was called Bojangles. But … when we left the bar, the San Francisco Police Department was waiting outside with paddy wagons and arresting Black gay people who were standing around talking, trying to exchange numbers.

So you black felt like you had to almost run to get away from being arrested. Rodney Barnette: She had a new album out, and it was so beautiful. It turned out that she was going to be performing at one of these bars up in North Beach. And we had already had bad experiences trying to get in there, carding us with three pieces of I.

Rodney Barnette: I felt like we had an opportunity to make a difference in the community. This was in the late 80s, like There was a bar. It was actually called the Eagle Creek Saloon. And gay club was selling the bar. And finally, when it got transferred into my name, my brothers came up, I had one brother who was a contractor, another brother who was an electrician.

My brothers always knew that I was gay and I never tried to hide it, but they got a lot closer and understood every aspect of being gay. But you know, it was a good experience, a good family venture that we went into.