Steelworkers and LGBT working people are both largely invisible, which is why I am working on a project trying to uncover this important part of our movement. And I am asking for your help.
Steel mills are huge, yet those who often pass by them on the highway seem not to notice their existence, and don't realize that people work there. Since I teach in Gary, Ind., I want to know who works in the mills and what that environment is like for gay workers. One of the people I interviewed observes: "The pictures you see of the steel mills, you think of some big, tough, strong, burly guy. It's so embedded in your mind that it has to be a guy, it has to be tough, and it has to be straight." What is it like to be lesbian, gay, bi, or trans, and work in this kind of setting?
In the early stages of this project, I found no answers to my questions in libraries or archives. These contain no record of queer steelworkersthe existing documents imply that gay people don't even exist in the mills. I just don't believe that. I know that gay people are everywhere. We need to eat just like everybody else, so if a good job opens up, we apply. Therefore, gay steelworkers exist, but their work environment is so hostile that they choose to remain invisible.
I am looking for LGBT steelworkers who are willing to describe their work, their lives, their struggles and their survival strategies. If you tell me your story, I will not disclose your name, or any revealing details about where or when you worked. Retired or laid-off steel workers are also welcome. I plan to write a book based on your stories.
I am a lesbian, and I used to be a car mechanic before I became a writer and a professor. I'm disappointed that most books and films about gay America focus on urban professional white people. We know that the queer experience is much more varied than that.
During the past year, I have interviewed 10 brave steelworkers ( half of them male, half of them female ) . My format is very open. The steelworker usually leads, telling the story of what they do at the mill, their struggles and triumphs both in and out of the mill, and how it feels to be so invisible. One summarized, "I have to lie because I don't know how safe I am, and I live in a country that won't tell me how safe I am." Others are less cautious, but all, all live in fear. "It's like a punch in the stomach," concluded another steelworker.
I respect anyone willing to tell me your story, and my book will communicate your experiences to the world. You deserve to be heard, and the public needs to know that you are out there. Please call me at 219-980-6575 or e-mail abalay@iun.edu .
Anne Balay is a professor at the Indiana University Northwest in Gary.