In the queer community, what does it mean to create a safe, affirming space? I discussed space and intentionality with Kristen Kaza, the creator and curator of SloMo, a monthly R&B-and-soul night thrown at Logan Square's The Whistler. As a part-time professor at Columbia College in the marketing department, Kaza understands the importance of representation not only in media but real life, what kind of bodies are present in a space and what that signifies. This is why Kaza has worked to make SloMo as inclusive as possible by making sure people come first. "We're putting the community in the forefront as a priority by creating a place of inclusiveness and respect," Kaza said. "Gender-neutral bathrooms are a requirement of every space we go into to show that all gender and body expressions welcome. We're very upfront about our expectations."
Kaza cites Chances Dances and its organizers as being a huge influence on the way that she and others create community in starting conversations about transgender and gender non-conforming bodies. "Chances set an example," Kaza said. "A lot of people take for granted the fact that they can go to the bathroom or get something to eat at their favorite restaurant. They can occupy spaces and their identity isn't questioned or put in harm's way." Since Chances started three years ago, Kaza said that she's witnessed a sea change on the West Side—with more and more businesses installing single-stall restrooms. She believes it's a huge moment for the community, one that shows why queer people need to have these discussions with the establishments they frequent and make them welcoming. "It's incredibly invalidating to feel like you can't use the bathroom in a way that represents who you really are," Kaza argued. "It's a small thing, but it feels really significant."
In addition to questioning bar owners and their staff about their policies, Kristen Kaza also felt that queer organizers need to do their homework in researching the history of the space. "If theres a space that's been a source of negativity about how they treat their queer patrons or patrons of color, you shouldn't make the decision not to give them your time or energy," Kaza said. This is especially important because there are a number of intentionally welcoming establishments known for their support of the queer community—like Subterranean, The Hideout and Big Chicks. I asked Kaza how she felt about changing spaces, working with businesses to becoming more open and affirming. Kaza cautiously agreed. " You can't expect that people are always going to be on the same page, and I want to bring this party to the space, really talking through with them and educating them," Kaza said. "However, I think that there's sometimes concern of taking advantage of the queer dollar."
For Kaza, this act creating safe spaces isn't just a political issue; it's deeply personal. When Kaza came out, she had a difficult time finding an environment where she could express the person she was, while also hoping to explore the community in which she hoped to find herself. "When I came out, there wasn't a space that I felt super celebrated or connected with," Kaza recalled. "There was nowhere in Boystown that I felt like I fit in, and at Ts or Stargaze, I felt that way as well. I was single and feeling kind of selfish. I wanted to be able to meet like-minded women." But in the time since Kaza came out, many of those venues have now folded, with T's closing its doors in March of last year. "I do believe that those spaces are important, because now you have almost no establishments that cater to lesbian, bisexual and queer identified women," Kaza said. "There's a loss."
With that lack, Kaza said that she feels a personal responsibility to have a space where all types of queer women can go, and she admitted that SloMo is often "dominated by queer women." In a community where queer women are too often invisible, it's something she's proud of. "We need more and more visibility for queer women, and we need it in every industry," Kaza argued. "I will do anything I can do to showcase really great women." However, Kristen Kasa believes that it's also important to include straight allies in the mix, which is why the official name of the evening includes the phrase "Slow Jams for Homos and their Fans." "That's a loving reference," Kaza explained. "The energy and the environment is very special, and people treat each other well. They're there for the music, which is not necessarily true at all parties. We take their commitment very seriously."
Although the music can change if guest DJs come in, the central theme of SloMo is a celebration of classic hip-hop and R&B, from Anita Baker and Marvin Gaye to Whitney Houston. Kaza said that the party was inspired by her experiences of listening to Sade with her father when she was young; her father was a radio DJ and music critic for 30 years, and she hopes to harken back to that time when her father's music meant so much to her. "It was that the level of emotion and vulnerability that spoke to me, that feeling of letting it all hang out," Kaza recalled. "R&B brings you up when you need to be lifted up." She believes that the popularity of SloMo is rooted in those shared experiences and emotions of childhood, our memories of listening to Mariah Carey with friends at summer camp or at home with family. For her, it's about the music.
In creating a bond with her community over the R&B she loves, Kristen Kaza said it's been more than an event. "It's a dream come true."
Catch SloMo this Valentines' Day at Chop Shop, 2033 W. North Ave., in Wicker Park. The event, named for Sade's "No Ordinary Love," is $10. Doors open at 9 p.m.
