LEXINGTON GAY LIBERATION FRONT
I want to give the Faulkner Morgan Archive props for their help with our next feature. The Faulkner Morgan Archive is based in Lexington, Kentucky, and is dedicated to preserving LGBTQ history, a crucial task in a deeply conservative, Republican state. The archive currently houses 15,000 items and more than 250 hours of recorded interviews.
I sent them an email asking for any Kentucky Gay Liberation Front leads, and they introduced me to Peter Taylor, who served as the second president of the Lexington, Kentucky, Gay Liberation Front while he was attending the University of Kentucky in the early 1970s.
From an early age, Peter knew he was different. When he was 12 years old, he read a book that had the word “homosexual” in it. Every time he went to the library after that, he would go straight to the card catalog and look up “homosexuality.” He read everything he could. He and the future were determined!
What strikes me about Peter is the passion he brings to the conversation. His memory is sharp, and he is confident. Early in our interview he said, “I was kind of a go to hell person. I didn't really care. I decided that if it was against the law for me to have sex in the first place, it didn't really matter much if I followed any laws.”
Peter did have brushes with the law, being arrested purely for being a homosexual. The first time, he was 18 years old. He was speaking with an undercover police officer who said he had no place to sleep. In a friendly, matter-of-fact manner, Peter offered the police officer his couch. The officer, in turn, arrested him for solicitation to commit third degree sodomy. It is like—what does that even mean?
Folks, this highlights the fear and uncertainty of the not-so-far-away times. Most of the United States has progressed, but many parts of the world have not. While we've made progress, there's still a significant journey ahead. It is surreal that a friendly conversation could lead to arrest, showing the stark realities and challenges we face in ensuring basic rights and freedoms for all.
Peter, we are glad you broke the most archaic and overarching law of the time... simply existing!
—August Bernadicou, Executive Director of The LGBTQ History Project
“I was born in Jellico, Tennessee, right across the state line from Kentucky. I was furious growing up. I had been made fun of for years and had absolutely no peace at school. I mean, people called me a ‘queer’ and called me a ‘pussy’ every single day. I was one of the smartest kids in the school. I was testing at a college level in reading when I was in the fifth grade, and I got treated like some kind of a freak by everybody. Now, in my work as a social worker, I see that people who get treated like that often turn suicidal.
People who arrive at adulthood when they're gay, lesbian, or trans hate themselves because everybody they've ever known has treated them like they were some kind of awful, terrible, horrible person.
I didn't hate myself. I hated the bullies. I decided they were a bunch of bastards, and I hoped they all would die, and I wouldn't waste any time on them if they did. I had a different orientation. I was furious. I didn’t give a goddamn: I'm going to do exactly what I want to, and I'm going to be who I want to be, and we'll just see what happens. In some ways, it was an experiment.
Most of the problems that I had were not caused by my being gay. They were simply caused by not being practical, like worrying about where I would get money. I mostly lived on financial aid during the time I was in the Gay Liberation Front.
I attended Gay Liberation Front meetings in the winter of my freshman year at the University of Kentucky during the 1971-72 school year. I became the president in the fall of 1972. Although we were based on campus, we weren’t officially part of the university.
There was an organization on campus called the Free University, which gave alternative classes. They let us have a class called the Gay Liberation Front class. We wanted more, though. We wanted access to a phone, office, printing press, etc. We wanted to use university facilities, in other words, their resources, because any recognized student group was allowed to do that. That’s what we were angling for. We were putting together an application to become an official student organization.
We spent the whole year doing what was required to become officially recognized by the university, but they turned us down. The Kernel, the student newspaper, had an enormous debate over it. We put together an appeal in front of the university judicial board, which was composed of faculty and students. They recommended that we be approved, but the university turned us down again and sent a very lengthy letter written by the head of the law library, explaining the justification was that we were a group that was advocating breaking the law.
We applied again, but at that point, the university filed suit against our group. They wanted us to stop applying for recognition. They mentioned me by name in the lawsuit, and my name was in the papers. The ACLU provided a volunteer attorney for us, and we went in front of the Sixth Circuit Court. The attorney general referred to us as ‘a lawful group sprinkled with unlawful activity.’ It was the same excuse as before.
In protest of the negative ruling, we burned a flag and Bible in the free speech area beside the Student Center. I also wrote a ‘Thank you’ letter to the student newspaper, where I expressed my hope that every single person at the University of Kentucky would have a gay son, daughter, brother, sister, mother, father, or friend ‘so maybe you'll all better understand what it is we've been talking about.’ I'm still pleased with that letter.”
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