Every "lesboy" is just a Michfest (Michigan Womyn's Music Festival) attendee who can't get to go anymore.
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Every "lesboy" is just a Michfest (Michigan Womyn's Music Festival) attendee who can't get to go anymore.
Saw a post on r/olderlesbians basically reminiscing about Michfest, the wonderful community, how it was a safe space and like. I felt like I was losing my mind??? Like I'm sure it did mean something to them and god knows you can acknowledge something was bad even if you have positive memories about it, but like. Michfest??? The Michfest that surrounded, harassed and threatened the life of a trans girl?????
There was one comment saying it was transphobic, that was the only one and it had a long "I asked chat gpt and it said that Michfest died because of those evil trans people" and it's likeee
Like I don't wanna call out these women. (except the chatgpt one, like girl you can't even make your own bigotry you gotta outsource that to the AI too?) I'm sure they had a wonderful time at the event. It's just this weird moment of whiplash when I realize that they occupied an entirely different world y'know? Like that scene in parasite about the ways the rain impacted each family differently
for women for girls forever 🌿
Reposting on behalf of a friend- she's making Cards Against Humanity specifically for lesbians and fans of The Land and you can pre-order them at the link below:
D*kes Against Decency is a 108-card, lesbian-made Cards Against Humanity expansion pack for lesbians and lovers of womyn's land. Preorder no
🤣
My painting of the Mother Goddess, heavily inspired by this painting
From the video "holding space" by Crys Matthews
Are you familiar with Michigan Womyn's Music Festival (Michfest) /WWTLC /Big Mouth Girl /'The Land' ?
Michfest
I've been
I'm familiar with it but have not attended
I've vaguely heard about it
Not familiar at all
"Time passed, and then, I fell in love with someone who convinced me to come work short crew. I felt like a spy in the enemy camp that year. I was constantly on my guard, very careful not to get splashed with the Kool-aid; all the while collecting information about how the lesbians do it. The Capricorn in me noticed the intricate systems. I was impressed by the sacred order of how everything came together. Seeing how the stages got built and how the cooking fires were kept alive all night left me in a state of awe. I walked away knowing that womyn could indeed run the world. I had forgotten that even mattered to me. While I still had some trepidation, I came back the following year for long crew, and immediately had this crazy revelation that the lesbians matter. Perhaps this seems obvious, but for me it was a total epiphany. Having spent most of my adult life with radical faeries and queers, all I knew about lesbians was that they had no sense of humor and wore really ugly shoes. That they held their clipboards tight and their stale notions about sex and gender even tighter.
Basically, I saw them as less evolved and way less cool than all other letters of the LGBTQ. What I'm getting at here, actually, is the queer elitism that is so rampant right now. This is the part you may hate me for, but I think the calling out of bigotry has become quite hypocritical. The word bigot means “ having or revealing an obstinate belief in the superiority of one's own opinions and a prejudiced intolerance of the opinions of others.” Frankly, I see the young, urban, often highly educated and mostly white queers being at least as guilty of this as the lesbian separatists. The recent attack on elderly trans women who choose to keep using the word “tranny” is another good example. I can't help but notice the common factor of these two groups is their senior age and their lack of male privilege. It seems very ironic to so aggressively attack the so-called bigotry of the two most vulnerable demographics of our queer pantheon. Is not the whole point of our activism to support everyone's right to freely be who they are?
Right now, I'm sitting in my tent surrounded by oak trees and ferns. Off in the distance I hear chainsaws and hammers hitting stakes. It's my 3rd year working. When I pulled onto the land 10 days ago, I started crying, or I think balling would be the more accurate word. It caught me completely off guard. It was like this wave of relief swept over my body. For the next 4 weeks, I wouldn't be gawked at or yelled at by dudes. I wouldn't have to brace myself waiting for the light to change when 3 men in a truck pulled up next to me at night. I wouldn't be shamed for having emotions, or told I'm just “on the rag” when I dare to have an opinion. Instead, I'd be riding around in flatbed trucks filled with hay and smart, sexy babes. I'd be stacking firewood in the sunshine wearing only my gloves, boots and cut offs shorts. I'd be in the land where beards are worn with pride, fat is truly fabulous and old ladies dance naked in the afternoon, tits hanging low, and this is seen as beautiful, not disgusting or shameful.
In a world where patriarchy is still imbedded so deeply in the fabric of our collective being, it's hard to imagine a realm outside of that. You cannot comprehend the value of this place until you come breath it in, sweat it out, and walk alone with it through the woods at night. This festival has been a vital lifeline to countless women from so many walks of life. I am deeply grateful to have finally landed here, and I hold firmly that you can be an excellent trans ally and still come be with dykes in the woods. To spend our precious time arguing over whether cis women or trans folk are more deeply oppressed is a major distraction, a waste of our collective vitality, and a total drain on our political potential.
No one is served by victimization. All of us benefit when we learn to walk with heads high and hearts open. This place is not perfect, it's not a utopia, it's just a bunch of wild womyn figuring out how to love ourselves and exist together as best we are able."
Mary Doyle
BITCH AND ANIMAL APPRECIATION POST