Queer History Paves a New Future for Fire Island Pines
Written by Tomik Dash | Photos by Wilsonmodels
Mosaic water fountain centerpiece in Trailblazer’s Park | Designed by TM Davy
When I moved to New York in June 2014, I had been in the city for only a week before the NYC Pride Parade rolled down 5th Avenue. It was a fantastic spectacle seen by over a million people, all cheering for their favorite floats. There I was, all alone and pressed against one of the street barriers when I saw the ACT UP float rolling towards me. A group of intergenerational provocateurs yelled to the crowd as they showered us with free condoms and lube–but because the music was booming, we couldn’t hear anything they were saying. We threw our hands in the air to catch the freebies as if they were beads being tossed at Mardi Gras. It was then that I noticed a poster board with an image of a PrEP pill on it. The sign brought me crashing back to reality by reminding me of my health’s vulnerability. At the time, I was in a serodiscordant relationship and had been trying unsuccessfully to get access to PrEP without insurance.
At that moment, perhaps because of the emotion he saw in my eyes–or maybe just because he liked my crop top–a man clad in leather gear leaned down from the float, extended an arm, and motioned for me to hop on. After briefly hesitating, I leaped over the steel street barrier and onto the platform. The immediate change in perspective stunned me for a moment. Whereas before, I could barely see the magnitude of the crowd, my new vantage point allowed me to take in the full panorama of writhing bodies packed from wall to barricade. As I danced on the float’s platform, I noticed people on the sidewalk making eye contact with me and waving as if I had done something to earn the right to be up there and receive their adoration. It was a new perspective of the parade–and for me, a new perspective of New York.
At the time, I didn’t realize how much of this perspective had been shaped by the iconic Larry Kramer. Although his name rang a bell, I didn’t know him as one of the founders of ACT UP. Larry helped form the organization in 1987 to combat the negligence and complacency of the medical establishment and society as a whole toward the AIDS epidemic.
I also don’t remember the first time I heard the name, Marsha P. Johnson. It certainly wasn’t during the first Pride parade I attended as a little seventeen-year-old queer kid running around Atlanta–but it should have been! Unfortunately, the memories of Marsha and so many of our LGBTQ+ trailblazers have largely been erased by the corporate takeover of our Pride parades and events. Queer history has been something so many of us have had to learn about on our own. To this day, our very existence is policed and politicized. Some people in government seek to stifle our future, erase our past, and make us invisible. As a community, LGBTQ+ people have always had to champion our own stories, including in our beloved Fire Island Pines.
An interesting thing about the Island is that in my eight years of visiting, it has always seemed like a parade. A parade of boys, beach, and beauty where I could find myself as a spectator or a participant. That participation made a notable shift in 2020 when I founded the Black and Brown Equity Coalition and helped organize a racial justice contingent of the Cherry Grove Pride Parade in the same summer. I quickly realized that much like how my perspective of New York City shifted when I hopped on that ACT UP float, my perspective had also shifted on Fire Island upon assuming a role in the community as an advocate of progress toward racial and transgender equity.
One frustrating aspect about taking on this work is that people often only want to hear about adversity, despite positive things to report about the work being done by individuals, committees, and organizations–and I get it! Speaking up about race dynamics on the Island is novel, at least in public forums, but there is great work happening across our communities. Groups like the Committee on Black Equality (CoBE) have been doing their part to make the Pines more inclusive and welcoming for people of color. Founded in June 2020, CoBE is a committee of FIPPOA (Fire Island Pines Property Owners Association) primarily composed of Black homeowners who make recommendations to the association on ways to foster greater inclusivity in the community. Over the past couple of years, I have gotten to work with the committee and have been awestruck witnessing the physical manifestation of ideas that were introduced a mere three years ago.
“Before CoBE was formalized as part of FIPPOA,” said founding CoBe member Crayton Robey, “we created a Google Doc where we listed initiatives that we would like to see happening in Fire Island Pines to make it a place that was more welcoming to people of color … Some of those included arts initiatives, community events, making BOFFO [a Pines queer artist residency organization] an official community organization and, per Iman LeCaire’s suggestion, public naming opportunities.”
Iman LeCaire, whose cover story can be read in the July 2020 issue of Fag Rag Fire Island, is a former resident of the Pines and an activist for transgender asylum seekers. When I was getting people motivated to do DEI work in Cherry Grove, Iman was advocating in the Pines to have the harbor renamed in honor of Marsha P. Johnson. More than 1,500 signatures on a petition showed the community that there was tremendous support for such an initiative.
Trailblazers Park before the Ribbon Cutting Ceremony in Fire Island Pines
As a result of Iman’s petition and COBE’s recommendation, FIPPOA formed the Honoring Trailblazers Task Force to plan and develop an area in the Pines harbor. The Task Force’s mandate was to develop a place to celebrate the achievements of people who, through advocacy, action, and personal sacrifice, have brought about positive change in the rights and recognition of the LGBTQ+ community. They also charged themselves with intentionally celebrating trailblazers who were BIPOC, transgender, female, and from other marginalized communities, whose contributions were often overlooked or underacknowledged.
One of the Task Force’s first tasks was to determine who to honor. “Selecting the trailblazers was a deliberate and painstaking process that involved input from the community,” said Doug Harris, a founding member of CoBE and a co-chair of the Honoring Trailblazers Task Force, who first came to the island over four decades ago. “We issued a request for nominations of trailblazers to the Pines community, LGBTQ+ groups, and people we knew outside of the Pines. We received nearly ninety nominations - sixty or so were distinct because of repeat nominations. After that, we carefully reviewed each individual nominee.”
The task force was successful in selecting 48 trailblazers. Enough for three two-year cycles of sixteen honorees at a time. “One of the interesting things about the process was making sure the trailblazers reflected the diversity that CoBE wanted to see,” Harris said. “We found that we were short of trans and non-binary nominees and people of color, so we very actively sought out additional nominations from groups and individuals outside of the Pines.”
The other task was to figure out how to honor the chosen nominees. The task force put out a request for artist proposals and in Summer 2021, they selected a design proposal from TM Davy, a profound visual artist who has spent many summers in the Pines. “I was encouraged to apply,” said Davy. “My initial feeling was that I wasn’t the right artist for it. I haven’t done public installations, and I thought that the job should go to an artist of color. But then I started thinking about my diverse group of artist friends and felt like it was my duty to expand this project and have them involved. That’s when I came up with the idea of displaying multiple flags that honored individual trailblazers. A different artist would design each flag. It felt like the perfect opportunity to make this project collaborative and collective. I assisted in seeking out artists who had been creating work in the Pines for a long time.”
Flags
Mosaic water fountain designed by TM Davy with Sylvia Rivera on the left and Marsha P. Johnson on the right.
TM’s suggestion for the pièce de résistance of the park–a drinking fountain with a mosaic in the likeness of Marsha P. Johnson and Syliva Rivera, was an element that excited everyone. “The task force suggested that they wanted to honor Marsha permanently based on Iman’s idea of holding the park in her spirit,” notes TM. “They originally thought Larry Kramer and Edie Windsor should be permanent as well since they both did amazing work for gay activism. But to say, ‘Here’s a drink of water,’ felt like the spirit of Marsha and Sylvia, the two women we chose as the permanent honorees. It didn’t feel like it was proper to just put the women on a plaque. Marsha’s smile is greeting everyone who is getting off the ferry. She had such a powerful smile when she was at the front of a protest, and I really wanted to capture that.”
Qween Jean taking the first sip from the water fountain.
The symbolism behind the drinking fountain was lost on no one. Last summer, during the dedication ceremony, Iman LeCaire invited Black trans-femme activist Qween Jean to take the first sip.
“I will take this first sip,” she said, “ but I will take this sip because I know that the history of water fountains for Black people has been rooted in pain and agony. Black and brown queer and trans people should be taking up space and celebrating, not just in the park, but truly within the confines of this community!”
Harris also acknowledged the significance of the fountain. “It’s a step in the right direction of making the Pines more inclusive and accessible,” he said. “It’s the positive change that I always hoped would happen in the Pines. It’s the kind of progress we need in the face of everything else going on in this country right now.”
When I look at Trailblazers Park, I can’t help but remember myself as a baby gay attending my first Pride parade in Atlanta, and I wonder what kind of impact it would have had on me to have seen these honorees and learn their names, their histories, their contributions, their sacrifices. I think about how when the park was unveiled, to my embarrassment, I still did not know half of the people being honored. I had more work to do in educating myself on queer history than I thought. I was, fortunately, able to scan the QR code on the premises and learn about the names and people who eluded me. On the flip side, I thought about how nice it would be to see Marsha’s radiant smile as I get off the ferry. If a project like this can go from idea to reality in two years, the sky's the limit with what we can do in the future for this community with a healthy mix of imagination, organizing, and determination, especially as it relates to intentional diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives.
When I asked TM what he thought about the park’s significance, he responded, “We’ll see! I have hope for what it will mean for the Pines. I hope that it becomes a safe place, a kind of haven to feel like this is for the faggots and their friends. At the very least, it will mean that you have an opportunity to learn about your queer ancestors. And if you’re thirsty, you can have a drink of water.”
Learn more about Trailblazer’s Park, the traiblazer’s, and the artists who created their flags here.
