Mazer Archives June 2022 Newsletter | Out of the Archives: Connecting to Ourselves Through Community Archives: How the Mazer Helped Me (Finally!) Embrace My Queer History

Hall Frost, upper right, in a collage with photos of Julie Barrow, lower right, JoAnn Semones, lower left, and the two together, upper left.

I knew I wanted to go to library school at a very young age. The children’s librarians at the Urbana Free Library in Urbana, Illinois had, after all, a very large part in raising me. It wasn’t until years later, working towards my bachelor’s in history, that a professor thought I’d like working in archives. And so here I am in the Library and Information Studies department at UCLA. (Well, technically was as I graduated a few weeks ago!)

I chose the program at UCLA because it’s great for future archivists, is in sunny Los Angeles, and has a particular focus on social justice and community archives. The UCLA Community Archives Lab has a partnership with the Andrew Mellon Foundation that “explores the ways that independent, identity-based memory organizations document, shape, and provide access to the histories of minoritized communities, with a particular emphasis on understanding their affective, political, and artistic impact.” Part of this goal is providing students with academic-year long internship opportunities at various small community archives around Los Angeles.

When I expressed interest to my partner in applying for the internship here at the Mazer, she said “oh good, maybe you’ll learn something about our history.”

I scoffed and shot back “I know about our history!”

But the truth was, I didn’t actually know much about LGBTQ+ history at all. I don’t like drag shows or gay bars, I don’t like Pride, and the queer history I did know was all centered around trauma: Stonewall and Matthew Shephard and the AIDS crisis and a general historical ban on being queer in any way whatsoever. Couple that painful history with a culture that loves giving queer people the tragic, unhappy ending in popular media and the end result for me was to simply step away from it all.

The amount of joy this photo brings me of Julie Barrow in 1977 with her first car, a Volkswagen Beetle, is off the charts. Her stance, that shirt, the bare feet, those shiny hubcaps!

Of course, the archives is filled with histories detailing these painful times; this collective trauma exists in some way in most queer people, even those like me who tried to avoid it all. But it’s also got baseball uniforms from the 1950s, cassettes filled with live music performances, thousands of periodicals that cover every topic from lesbian scuba diving to women’s health to sports and even books of poetry exclusively written by old lesbians; essentially, it’s got something for everyone. The Mazer is a place that offers community, connection, and joy.

I soon found myself sharing all the gems I’d come across with anyone that would listen. I even walked in the Dyke March with a Mazer crew. When it was time to graduate and my partner was in LA to help move me back to New Mexico, we stopped by the archives one evening to drop off my keys. I showed her the collections I’d been working on, she looked through every box of pins & buttons, and we poured over journal entries written by Juanita Sanchez and letters written by Bunny Mac Culloch. When we realized it was after midnight and the janitor was coming in to collect the trash, we reluctantly headed out.

My partner, Alisha, sifting though periodical boxes in the main archive, powering up with lesbian and feminist history to hex the patriarchy.

The Director of Communications at the Mazer, Angela Brinskele, describes it as the “archives of the everyday lesbian.” It’s a place that offers an insight into lesbian life from the past, and thus offers many points of connection to meet a wide range of interests. During my time at the archives, we had researchers come in looking for everything from video footage of The Dinah Shore festival, to articles about lesbian separatism, and anything and everything we had related to women’s health clinics. For me, I ultimately found connection in the JoAnn Semones and Julie Barrow collection, which I spent the better part of six months cataloging at the item level.

This description project is being done to prepare the collection for future digitization, finding aid creation, and rehousing. The collection is made up of over 3000 photographs, spanning from the 1940s to the early 2010s. These photos tell the story of JoAnn and Julie’s lives.

JoAnn And Julie Barrows standing in front of the steamship Sherman, where they were married in 2008.

My work with this collection involved describing each photograph in detail, compiling search terms, and documenting notes written on the backs of photographs, and it’s date and location. I poured over every photo, eventually coming to know the names of every family member, partner, even the pets! At times I felt as if I had known these two my entire life. As I worked, I finally found my connection to the community and lesbian history.

First in a letter sent out in Christmas cards written by Julie Barrow’s mother in 1961 in which she describes Julie, 6 or 7 at the time, as “delighted at being a reader now, likes school but deserts the dolls for the great outdoors.” (That could have been written about me!)

And again, in a group of photographs from the 1980s depicting JoAnn Semones and her friend pulling down wallpaper and repainting rooms, followed by well-earned beers at a table set up in the garage in the home JoAnn just purchased.

JoAnn Semones enjoys a beer and a sandwich in the garage of her new home.

Although I always hate to admit it, ultimately, my partner was right. I had a lot to learn about our history. Luckily, the Mazer is a special place that has a lot of amazing things in their space and allows even those like me, who didn’t feel as though there was a place for me in lesbian history, to find connections and community.

The author, left, at the West Hollywood Dyke March along with fellow UCLA Library and Information Studies student, Estelle Yim, right.

While officially my time with the Mazer has come to an end, it’s not really the kind of place you ever really can or want to leave behind. You’ll still see newsletters and social media posts from me in the future.

I’m honored to have spent my time here and thrilled to know that the work I did will help other lesbians connect to their everyday history. Hopefully even the stubborn ones like me.