Gerard Koskovich

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Repairing the Loss of the First Queer Archives

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Ninety years ago this month, the Nazis staged their first book-burning in Berlin. The gathering on May 10, 1933, saw hundreds of supporters of the regime march into a square in front of the 18th-century building housing the city’s first public library and across the street from one of Germany’s leading universities. The crowd threw cartloads of books onto a huge bonfire, the flames lighting the night sky as Propaganda Minister Joseph Goebbels gave a speech attacking Jewish and “un-German” authors.

Many of us learned about this grim event in high-school history classes, where it’s often portrayed as an example of the danger to freedom of expression posed by totalitarian dictators. But a crucial aspect of the story has disappeared in the retelling, even though it was highlighted by the book-burners themselves and was covered in news reports at the time: A major portion of the works consigned to the flames had been seized a few days before on May 6 from Berlin’s celebrated Institute for Sexual Science.

Founded in 1919 by homosexual and transgender emancipation pioneer Dr. Magnus Hirschfeld (1868–1935), the institute was home to the first museum, library and archives anywhere in the world to give a prominent place to the history and culture of homosexual, transgender and intersex people. During the Weimar Republic, the establishment drew wide media attention, gaining visibility as a provider of medical and psychosocial services and as a destination for researchers, curious locals and international tourists.

Ties to San Francisco

Hirschfeld’s fame even gave him ties to San Francisco. In 1928, lesbian poet and San Francisco resident Elsa Gidlow (1898–1986) joined Hirschfeld for lunch at the Institute for Sexual Science — a sign of how far the reputation of the organization had spread. Three years later, Hirschfeld himself visited the city as part of an international speaking tour. In the first line of his book Men and Women: The World Journey of a Sexologist (1933), he recalls the “fabulously beautiful harbor of San Francisco.”

Decades later, we can trace connections from the Institute for Sexual Science to the GLBT Historical Society. As a founding member of the society, I recall that the organizers in 1985 were well aware of the destruction of Hirschfeld’s library and archives. Those of us with a passion for the LGBTQ past had learned about the largely forgotten event though the work of groundbreaking historian James Steakley and the book The Early Homosexual Rights Movement (1974) by John Lauritsen and David Thorstad.

That knowledge was one of the inspirations for founding the Historical Society: We sought to repair the devastating loss to LGBTQ history caused by the suppression of Hirschfeld’s institute. We shared this task with the broad movement to establish queer and trans archives which had emerged in Australia, Europe and North American in the early 1970s. By forming community collections in numerous places, we were committed to making it impossible for any single regime to again annihilate the records of our past.

Belonging in Time

Those records are precious for helping us encounter the ancestors of people we now call lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans and gender-nonconforming. By learning how they understood themselves and created cultures in the past, we expand our foundations for building a more welcoming future for the full diversity of members of our community. Our archives also help us find links that give us a sense of belonging in time. The story of Elsa Gidlow is just one example: We know about her visit to Hirschfeld because she recounts that afternoon in Berlin in her journals preserved in the Historical Society’s own collections. 

In the present era when parts of the United States are employing state power to attack LGBTQ visibility and especially to persecute transgender people, the sacking of Hirschfeld’s institute offers a reminder: Those who sought to exclude us from society then and who seek to do so now recognize the power we find in our own history. That’s why the work of LGBTQ museums and archives is invaluable. That’s why I’ve remained active with the GLBT Historical Society for 38 years now. That’s why I cherish the support so many provide to ensure our organization thrives. Nine decades after that dark month of May 1933, I think Hirschfeld would be proud of us.

Gerard Koskovich is a public historian and antiquarian book dealer who divides his time between San Francisco and Paris. He has presented and published widely in English and French. Among the exhibitions he has curated is “Through Knowledge to Justice: The Sexual World of Dr. Magnus Hirschfeld” at the GLBT Historical Society Museum in 2016–2017. For a selection of his writing on LGBTQ history and culture, visit his Academia.edu page.

Thirty-Eight Years of San Francisco Pride: Reflecting Our Community’s Victories, Struggles & Diversity

Held on the last Sunday in June, the San Francisco Pride Parade is recognized as one of the largest Pride celebrations in the world and one of the largest annual public gatherings in the United States. Thirty-eight years after the city’s first Pride march in 1970, community historian Greg Pennington responded to our questions about the early growth of the celebration and its ongoing evolution to reflect the diversity of LGBTQ people.
Pennington moved to San Francisco in 1977 as part of the massive wave of gay men who emmigrated from across the United States and beyond during that decade. A cofounder of the GLBT Historical Society in 1985, he has long focused his research on the history of Pride parades in the United States. He was active in the leather community for many years and is one of the curators of the leather exhibit now on display as part of “Queer Past Becomes Present” at the GLBT History Museum.
When gay-liberation activists called for marches to mark the first anniversary of the Stonewall Riots, what was the response in San Francisco?
New York gays responded to the rampant police harassment of the bars with the Stonewall Riots in June 1969. In San Francisco, homophile organizers had already put an end to routine raids of gay bars by 1965. That’s one reason gay people in San Francisco barely responded to the call to commemorate Stonewall in June 1970. In San Francisco, about 20 people marched from Aquatic Park down Polk Street to City Hall. We had no Pride event in 1971. Finally, in 1972, we held the first of our unbroken string of annual parades.
When did the San Francisco parade grow into the huge event we now know and what factors drove the growth?
From 1972 to 1975, between 40,000 and 80,000 people watched the parade. The crowd in 1976 swelled to 120,000. The first of the massive parades on Market Street took place in 1977, with more than 200,000 in attendance. Political events of the late 1970s, including Anita Bryant’s attacks on gay rights, brought ever bigger crowds.
By 1981, more than 250,000 people participated, forming what was believed to be the single largest LGBTQ gathering anywhere to that point in time. For many years, our parade remained the largest in the world due to LGBTQ migration to San Francisco, the city’s model of excellent care for people with HIV and the city’s popularity as an international travel destination.
How has the parade reflected the concerns and the diversity of the LGBTQ community over time? 
The parade has always reflected the community’s victories and struggles. The early parades expressed a celebratory atmosphere as gay men from around the U.S. arrived in San Francisco. A few years later, lesbians would follow in claiming a prominent place in the march, with Dykes on Bikes leading the parade every year since 1976, initially as an informal group before becoming a registered contingent.
San Francisco Pride also has evolved to reflect our diversity. Straights for Gay Rights, the Third World Gay Caucus and a gays with disabilities contingent marched in 1977, followed soon after by Black and White Men Together, then the Gay Asian Pacific Alliance. With the emergence of the AIDS epidemic, the People with AIDS Coalition led the parade in 1983.
At the same time, visibility and specific political demands remained a concern for lesbians and for transgender people, sparking the founding of the Dyke March on the Saturday of Pride in 1993 and the Trans March on the Friday of Pride in 2004. Both have become annual events, so LGBTQ people and our allies now take the streets of San Francisco on all three days of Pride Weekend, marching in protest, in celebration — and often both at once.
Photos: Images of the San Francisco Gay Freedom Day Parade (1977-1979) by Marie Ueda; from the Marie Ueda Photographs Collection in the archives of the GLBT Historical Society. The parade was renamed San Francisco Pride in 1995.
Gerard Koskovich serves as communications director for the GLBT Historical Society.
FromEDFrom the Staff

New Initiatives for Learning About LGBTQ History
by Nalini Elias   
My insatiable curiosity and eagerness to learn led me to the GLBT Historical Society. As I’m passionate about the intersection of art, history and culture, I seek to immerse myself in interdisciplinary projects that test my abilities and continually challenge who I am. That’s why I was thrilled when the society hired me this spring as its new program manager.
My background in art history, museum studies and education along with experiences in program development and community-building have prepared me for this role. Through collaborations and partnerships with multicultural organizations, communities, activists, artists, historians and scholars, I plan to create public programming that reflects LGBTQ history as a vital, dynamic and inclusive force.
Interpreting Archives & Exhibitions
I’m excited to help build an education department for the GLBT Historical Society by interpreting our archives and exhibitions and by reflecting the diversity of LGBTQ history and culture. With the guidance of historians, curators and interns, we’ll develop interactive materials for museum visitors as well as resources and curricula for educators to easily adapt in their classrooms. I also aim to further engage and inspire our dedicated volunteer base and to reach out to new groups and individuals who are interested in getting involved with LGBTQ history.
Becoming the program manager at the GLBT Historical Society is a privilege that comes with responsibilities. Fortunately, I’m embarking on this alongside a devoted and talented team. I understand the role the GLBT History Museum plays in serving one of the most intercultural cities in the country. More importantly, I embrace the opportunity to facilitate understanding of queer history, culture and arts. Stay tuned for a variety of programs, volunteer opportunities and learning materials!

Nalini Elias is the program manager at the GLBT Historical Society.

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Documenting LGBT American Indian Organizing

Regarded as the first organization of its kind, Gay American Indians (GAI) was established in San Francisco in 1975 at the height of gay liberation. Founded by Barbara Cameron (1954-2002) and Randy Burns, GAI initially was a social club for queer American Indians who often felt unwelcome in the LGBTQ community due to prejudice and in American Indian organizations due to homophobia. The group went on to reclaim tribal traditions honoring two-spirit people who embraced mixed gender identities and roles.

The archives of the GLBT Historical Society hold a small number of collections of organizational records and personal papers documenting GAI and other two-spirit groups and individuals. Among the most significant:

  • The Randy Burns Papers, with a sampling of materials from 1968 through 2002 reflecting Burns’ activism as well the work of GAI and other LGBTQ American Indian organizations across North America. Topics include initiatives to uncover two-spirit history and to respond to the AIDS crisis in American Indian communities.
  • The Gay American Indian Records, consisting primarily of materials related to academic conferences in the 1990s where two-spirit activists asserted their own histories and identities in opposition to perspectives anthropologists had imposed on them.

In addition, our Periodicals Collection includes a handful of scarce newsletters and zines reflecting American Indian experience, culture and organizing: B.A.A.I.T-S: Newsletter of the Bay Area American Indian Two-Spirits (2000); Buffalo Hide (1993); Seasons: The Native American AIDS Prevention Center Quarterly (1989-1991); and Two-Spirit News (1996).

To learn more about the GLBT Historical Society’s collections on American Indians, search our online archives catalog. We’re committed to further documenting the history and culture of two-spirit people in Northern California; if you have materials you might wish to donate, email our managing archivist, Joanna Black.

Gerard Koskovich is communications director at the GLBT Historical Society.