Some might remember the classic 1997 Simpsons episode "Homer's Phobia" that was dedicated to the steelworkers of the United States. The show ended with a steel plant closing, the men removing their shirts and the steel mill transforming into a gay club the C+C Music Factory Song, "Gonna Make You Sweat" playing while the men proudly declared, "We work hard, but we play harder."
Miriam Frank, in her new book, Out in the Union: A Labor History of Queer America, might take umbrage with the steel-mill disco of the 1990s. Her book tells the constant and unbroken story of LGBT U.S. labor from the 1960s through today, and how labor and the struggle for queer equality have been at odds, paralleled and even intersected one another for the last fifty years.
Out in the Union begins with the very personal stories of those who came out at work, in many cases in workplaces not traditionally associated with LGBT alliance, like an assembly line and moves through the course of labor history illustrating not only how individuals had to cope but also what union leadership and unions themselves had to contend with in the emerging queer political sphere from Stonewall to the present day.
Many young people who work in offices or environments where they have a personal space might take for granted the privilege of placing a photo of their boyfriend, girlfriend, partner or spouse on their desk. Yet as recently as the 1970s and 1980s, this was not happening. Many employees were not out at work, despite the Stonewall Riots. Queer employees could not bring their partners to work social events and often had to hide for fear of retaliation. Frank tells the story of public employees' unions taking an initiative on queer rights with beginning to seek the decriminalization of homosexuality and the intimate practices of homosexuals. Let that sink in for just a moment. In the 1970s, people could be arrested for even showing affection for their boyfriends or girlfriends—privately. It was illegal. Labor saw this as unacceptable, particularly given its membership.
Frank's book is not a "beach read." There are no folks at the East Bank Club pool leafing through her book between dips. This is a serious academic effort at cataloguing the intersection of the labor and LGBT rights' movements on a national scale.
Also, the book, although easy to read, is not going to cause belly laughs. Frank seriously deals with a serious subject and despite her personal sense of humor, the book is not a treatise on humor. Furthermore, Out in the Union is, I believe, intended for academia. This is a book that will be taught in universities, and used to generate further articles and interest. I would recommend this to only those with a very sober interest in LGBT history or labor history.
In the book, Frank writes, "Unions cannot control individual members' personal reactions to sexual diversity in the workplace. However, they can make queer identities part of the civil rights agendas, and they can educate their memberships about contractual safeguards for sexual minorities." This perhaps is one of Frank's greatest points. But that point sometimes seemed to get lost in the politics of sex and the clear concentration on lesbians in the workforce rather than gay men in the workforce.
This could very well be a subconscious decision on Frank's part—as she is an out lesbian herself and has written previously on the subject of women in the workplace. However, as a gay man reading this book, I found it in some cases difficult to relate to some portions of the book. Frank did make up for these issues with a comprehensive exploration of what she calls "queer work"—occupations associated with gays and lesbians, such as ballet dancers, florists, antique dealers, retail and the like.
Despite Frank's best efforts, she readily admits that the book is only "a" history and not "the" history as there are still many stories to be told. So those who expect to read a comprehensive history of the labor and LGBT movements may be disappointed. The book categorizes stories in cities such as New York, Detroit, San Francisco, Seattle and Portland that have both a strong labor and strong LGBT presence. But there are other stories from Chicago, Minneapolis, Los Angeles and dozens of other cities that remain untold and undocumented—which Frank admits.
Yet, I do not believe that this, in any way, weakens the premise of her undertaking. Certainly, there are specifics that Frank deals with, such as Harvey Milk or the Coors' Boycott; however, aside from these is a foundation that is common to the labor and LGBT causes, and her book lays that foundation well. Labor's primary interests are economic and the LGBT movement seeks equality. These do not always overlap but when they do, amazing things can happen and Frank illustrates with examples from all over the country to make sure her reader are aware of this.
Frank ends by noting the significance of labor's role in introducing marriage equality into the lexicon of U.S. politics, particularly in New York, a labor state. Marriage is the ultimate intersection of economy and equality; it is here that labor and the LGBT movement found a common ground that has now swept the nation like a wildfire. Frank reminds us that it began with the simple act of wanting to put up a picture of your partner.
Related story at the link: www.windycitymediagroup.com/lgbt/BOOKS-Talking-with-queer-labor-activist-Miriam-Frank-/48854.html .
