When queerness is perceived as cool, others will want a piece of the pie. What was edgy, provocative, and daring is co-opted, and so we get used to staying a few steps ahead and saying goodbye. Much like mushrooms or spring ephemerals, the most memorable and special queer spaces—I prize the memory of “Dreamland,” a series of Syracuse dance parties I attended in my midtwenties—are those that last only a couple sessions, months, or years, existing as a glimmering moment in time, before retreating out of sight, rearranging themselves, and emerging elsewhere when the season is just right.
