LGBTQ Story Archives - Page 10 of 10 - West Virginia Public Broadcasting

'We Are Real and We Are Here' – Kyra Soleil-Dawe's Struggle to Stay, Part Two

Last week, we met Kyra Soleil-Dawe, a 20-year-old aspiring theater director and playwright who lives in Shepherdstown, West Virginia.

“And this place is so beautiful,” Kyra said, “how would you ever wanna leave it? And I hope that I’m not the only one that sees that, I hope that I’m not the only one that sees that there’s something really incredible happening here.”

Kyra hopes to make it here in West Virginia as a young artist, having started a small theater company called Whiskey Shine and Pantomime Productions in 2014 at age 17. Kyra’s goal is to get it licensed as an official company. The success or failure of the group plays a pivotal piece in whether Kyra stays or leaves Appalachia.

Just to remind our listeners, Kyra identifies as genderfluid, so throughout Kyra’s Struggle to Stay, we’ll be referring to Kyra with they, them, and their pronouns.

We left off last time during auditions for Kyra’s production of William Shakespeare’s Hamlet.

Kyra follows along in the script during the first rehearsal for Hamlet.

Forming WSP Productions

It’s a late, summer night in August 2016. I’m in the basement of Kyra’s parents’ house where the last auditions for Hamlet are taking place. Hamlet will be Kyra’s third and biggest play since forming WSP Productions. It’s also the first-time Kyra’s held auditions for a show.

After almost two hours, auditions are over. Kyra and best friend and stage manager, Lydia Johnson, are feeling pretty good with the turnout.

“People came out and took it seriously,” Kyra said.

“They took it seriously,” Lydia agreed, “They’ve been really respectful. They showed up on time,”

“Right, and filled out their paperwork,” noted Kyra.

“Which like, not being part of a company that’s recognized – and working with actors is kind of like herding cats, so the fact that everybody actually showed up, and it wasn’t like two people showed up, and then ten people said, oh hey, but could you do it some other day, cause I can totally make it out, but like, next week,” Lydia explained.

Kyra was pretty nervous before auditions started, but they were also excited. Kyra says, hosting auditions really made it feel like like WSP was beginning to go somewhere.

“Everyone took to direction really well,” Kyra said, “and everyone that auditioned was older than I am, not that, that really matters, but that is something in my mind that I am one of the youngest people participating in this show, and I’m the one running it, and everyone just treated me, and the rest of our crew behind here listening in on auditions, with absolute, just complete and utter respect, and that’s so great, and I had so much fun. I’m so excited to do this show. I’m so excited to work with these people.”

Whiskey Shine and Pantomime Productions was formed not just by Kyra alone, but with help from two people. Kyra’s boyfriend, Ben Johnson, and his older sister Lydia played a major part in forming the company three years ago. Kyra even refers to the two of them as their “tribe.”

But more than just a hobby between friends, WSP developed into a conduit for Kyra’s artistic expression.

“It’s nice that we can make it sound all nice and professional with WSP Productions,” Kyra noted, “We have stickers, we have t-shirts now; it feels like we’re so real already. I’m so pleased about it, but what was once a joke is now just becoming kind of a dream come true.”

Fears & Finances

Kyra is determined to stay in West Virginia and make WSP a lucrative business in their childhood home. But, at the same time…Kyra is also terrified of feeling trapped.

“As long as I can leave, I wanna stay, but that’s the common misconception about West Virginia is that you live here, and you get stuck here,” they said.

So, one way Kyra deals with that fear is through traveling.

“Because it’s proof to myself that I can always leave; that I can always choose something else; that to me is ultimate freedom.”

Travel, like with art, is something Kyra says they need – but to travel, you need cash; to get cash, you need work – and financial security is also something on Kyra’s mind.

Kyra gets some support from family, like using the basement at their parents’ house for rehearsal space. But despite that, Kyra says their family isn’t able to financially support them. In fact, Kyra says their family has some financial struggles of their own, and Kyra often helps out.

So between Kyra’s own bills, their family’s difficulties, and keeping WSP afloat, Kyra’s budget is pretty tight.

During the entire production of Hamlet, Kyra works four jobs – as a raft guide, selling cheese on a goat farm, as a barista and manager for a coffee shop, and as a freelance photographer and filmmaker. But even with all those jobs, Kyra says they only take home about $16,000 a year.

“Because of the lack of opportunity here? It worries me, because when is that gonna be me? When am I no longer gonna be able to afford to leave, you know? If I can’t leave, then why am I staying?”

So, Kyra’s really hoping Hamlet will bring in more money, while also helping to get WSP on the map.

The cast of Hamlet sit together during the first read-through.

A few weeks later, Hamlet rehearsals are in full swing.

One early morning, after a full night of rehearsing, Kyra recorded an update on their iPhone on how things were going. It was around 1:00 a.m.

“I just had an argument with one of my actors, and it was fine, it was totally fine, we hugged it out, and it was okay, but…I’ll get off of my day job, and all of these people want me to make these decisions, and it’s…it’s my own damn fault. I am the one to make these decisions, I signed up for that, but half the time, I just feel like, oh my god, I don’t even know what I’m doing, I don’t even know what I’m doing…”

Kyra recorded this late night update while sitting on the back patio at their parent’s house. It was early fall, September, but you can still hear the cicadas.

“I want to prove everyone wrong. Everyone says that it’s impossible. I’ve had so many conversations with business owners, and it always just ends in them saying it involves so much sacrifice, and I know that, I know it does, I feel it every day. I spend hours just making our social media look pretty. I spend hundreds of dollars trying to help get the word out, and I spend so many nights that I don’t sleep just so that I can come up with a plan. I know it’s so hard, and I can’t imagine it would be any harder than what we’re already doing, which is just getting people to believe it. Getting people to believe that we are real, and that we are here, and we mean business, and just because we’re young, does not mean that we are any worse off; that we are any less talented.”

Opening night of Hamlet is just around the corner, but will the outcome be everything Kyra hoped for?

And what about Kyra’s family, who have financial burdens of their own? How will that impact Kyra’s Struggle to Stay?

Music was provided by Marisa Anderson.

Us & Them: Sodomy, Stonewall & Pride

Not that long ago, you could get locked up for being gay.

A West Virginia man tells “Us & Them” host Trey Kay about being sent to a mental institution for violating sodomy laws. Standing in front of the historic Stonewall Inn in NYC’s Greenwich Village, gay activist Brendan Fay tells Trey how things have changed over the past five decades for LGBTQ people in America and around the world.

On this week’s episode of the “Us & Them” podcast: the pride, progress and ongoing struggle of gay rights.

From West Virginia Public Broadcasting and PRX, this is “Us & Them” the podcast where we tell the stories about America’s cultural divides.

Subscribe to “Us & Them” on Apple Podcasts, NPR One or wherever you listen to podcasts.

Share your opinions with us about these issues, and let us know what you’d like us to discuss in the future. Send a tweet to @usthempodcast or @wvpublic, or leave a comment on Facebook.com/usthempodcast.

And if you enjoyed this episode, join our community and sustain “Us & Them” with a pledge of support.

Us & Them: Reasserting Femme Voice

North Carolina repealed its notorious bathroom law, but not necessarily for the better. Transsexuals remain outside NC’s equal protection laws—whether in the bathroom or in the workplace. All of this has got me thinking about my friend Anne Kelly.

Back in the fall of 2014, I read an article in the Gazette about, Anne Kelly Skinner, a Charleston lawyer — formerly Greg Skinner — who was transitioning from male to female. The story piqued my interest because having grown up as a son, nephew, brother and friend of many of Charleston’s attorneys, I knew with almost absolute certainty that this was new territory for many in that Kanawha Valley legal community. I expected that I’d produce a story that would be about the tension of transitioning in a conservative “old boy” community, but we didn’t end up talking about any of that stuff. What we ended up talking about… was the way Anne talks.

On this week’s episode of the “Us and Them” podcast, we hear from Anne Kelly Skinner and the unwelcome remnants from a painful chapter in a transgender person’s life.

From West Virginia Public Broadcasting, this is “Us & Them” the podcast where we tell stories from America’s cultural divides.

Subscribe to “Us & Them” on iTunes or however you listen to podcasts.

Share your opinions with us about these issues, and let us know what you’d like us to discuss in the future. Send a tweet to @usthempodcast or @wvpublic, or reach us on the feedback page at usandthempodcast.com.

And if you enjoyed this episode, join our community and sustain “Us & Them” with a pledge of support.

Women’s March on Capitol Grounds: 'We Want our Voices Heard'

About 2,800 people gathered outside the Capitol in Charleston on Saturday, Jan. 21, to show their support for women’s equality one day after President Donald Trump’s inauguration.

The march was one of roughly 600 “sister marches” to the Women’s March on Washington in Washington, D.C., which was organized as a march for women’s equality as well as for other marginalized groups. Hundreds of thousands of people attended the Women’s March on Washington.

More than 1,000 people RSVP’d to the Charleston march online. According to event organizers, approximately 2,800 people participated in Saturday’s march at the West Virginia State Capitol.

The event was organized by several groups, including the American Civil Liberties Union of West Virginia, the West Virginia Citizen Action Group and West Virginia Focus on Reproductive Education and Equality.

"I'm here so that my daughter has what she needs to have a good life. Everybody has the right to love who they want to love and raise their children the way they want to raise them to be healthy and safe." -march participant Jessica Ball.

“Everything that we’ve been fighting for for years I think is at stake here,” said one of the marchers, Mary Bolton, who lives in Institute, West Virginia. “As an African American mother and grandmother, I’m concerned about the state of affairs in our country. I’m concerned about the rhetoric, and what our current president has unleashed in our society. And I am determined to have a voice and to educate and to help other women, men and children turn this tide around.”

Although most of the marchers were women, men also participated in Saturday’s march, saying they were there to support women’s rights, and equality for all people.

Many women brought their children to the march, including Jessica Ball, of Barboursville, West Virginia, who marched with her 12-year-old daughter, Ireland Grace Ball.

“I’m here so that my daughter has what she needs to have a good life,” Ball said. “Everybody has the right to love who they want to love and raise their children the way they want to raise them to be healthy and safe.”

Ball is a social worker, and she said she would like to see people be able to keep their health care under a Trump presidency.

Many women at West Virginia’s march also said affordable health care was a major issue for them. Other issues that brought women to the event were concerns for a safe and healthy environment for their children, and fair rights for LGBT individuals.

West Virginia Democratic Party Chairwoman Belinda Biafore also released a statement on Saturday.

“They always say you never know someone’s struggles until you walk a mile in their shoes. While today marks an unfathomable act of togetherness, we need to be sure we’re bringing this energy, determination and fight home with us,” she wrote in an email. “We need to grab our clipboards, our walking shoes and we need to fight for the future of West Virginia. We can’t give up and we can only do the most good for West Virginia and her people if we do it together.”

According to the Associated Press, more than 1 million people rallied at women’s marches in the nation’s capital and cities around the world on Saturday.

Haunting Banjo Tune Inspired by Coal Miner's Struggle

Songwriter Sam Gleaves was inspired by the story of Sam Williams, a former coal miner who was harassed at work for being gay.

Sam Gleaves is a musician who grew up playing old time mountain music in Southwestern Virginia. His songs have a high lonesome, old-time sound. Their roots are deep in Appalachia, and the stories they tell explore some bitter truths about how hard it can be to be different here. I met up with Gleaves at his home in Berea, KY to talk about one song in particular.

Sam Gleaves says he’s been drawn to music since he was kid in Rural Retreat, Virginia. He loved to listen to Bob Dylan and Stevie Nicks. “I was always interested in songs that told stories about real people and real emotion. So I was drawn to folk music.”

When he was 12, he got a guitar and started playing along with the radio, picking out the chords.“I’d been teaching myself to play the guitar for about a year or so, and my mom said ‘there’s a fella over there in Rural Retreat that teaches music lessons in his barber shop.’ So I went in his barber shop for the first time. There were two young men playing an old time dance tune. And I had never seen that, up close and personal in that way. Just to think it was just two guys it was really amazing to me.”

Sam Gleaves started taking lessons from that barber, an old time musician whose name was Jim Lloyd. Last spring Sam graduated from Berea college in Berea, KY, where he studied oral history and played in the college’s bluegrass band. Now, he’s turning his attention towards something other than traditional old time music. He’s producing an album of original songs called Aint We Brothers. The title song is based on the true story of a coal miner from West Virginia who was harassed and threatened at work after his co-workers discovered he was gay.

I was born here just the same as you/ Another time, another day

I’m sure the good Lord took his time/ Making each of us just this way

I walked beside you step by step/ And it never crossed my mind

That I would grow up one of the different kind

“I wanted to write the song about what it means to be a man. LGBTQ folks in Appalachia have a particularly complex identity because because you have modern queer culture, which is very urban, and very young feeling. And then there’s what we think about Appalachian culture- having deep roots and being rural. But then you have people that belong to both of those identities. Like as a gay man who grew up in southwestern Virginia, I have to claim my whole self,” said Gleaves.

The coal miner who inspired his song recently sent Sam Gleaves an email, letting him know how much he enjoyed hearing the song. The coal miner, also named Sam, used to be known as Sam Hall. He married his partner Burley Williams in D.C. back in 2010, and recently took his husband’s name. Sam and Burley Williams live in a small town a few miles outside of Charleston W.Va.

Sam Williams is 32 years old, tall and muscular, with hands that are chiseled from the seven years they’ve spent cutting coal from these hills. But he’s not a coal miner anymore. He quit Massey energy in 2010 after working as a miner for seven years. I spent an evening at their home. At their kitchen table, I ate a nectarine while Burley Williams cooked burritos. Sam Williams talked about what happened when his coworkers found out he was gay.

“Not that I ever even told them that I was gay. They just watch, follow, see me come out of a bar, automatically stereotype me. I faced a lot of things in the mines. I’ve been told that they hope all faggots die. There’s a fine line between someone saying that they’re joking and somebody looking you in the eye and saying it and knowing that that’s what they meant. But when it’s your supervisors it’s a whole different ball game.”

Then I asked him about Sam Gleaves’ song. Williams said he thinks it’s a very powerful song, especially the verse that goes:

First things first I’m a Blue-collared man

With scars on my knuckles, dust on my hands

Probably wouldn’t have ever known

I’ve got a man waiting on me at home

“Yes, that relates to me so much because I know that Burley was waiting for me at home. He’d wait for me until I got in and then he’d have dinner waiting on me, even if I got in at 3:00 in the morning,” said Williams.

Burley and Sam Williams were married in D.C. in 2010. Last year when same sex marriage became legally recognized in West Virginia, Sam took his husband’s name.

He and Burley have lived together since 2009. The first years they were dating, Sam Williams was dealing with the worst of the harassment and threats from his co-workers. Burley says there were nights when he feared for Sam’s life.

“And they messed with his vehicle, like scratched ‘Quit Fag’,” says Burley Williams. Sam’s co-workers “took the wheel weights off his tires. It was nerve-wracking because when he didn’t come home, I had to go out drive to the mines and go search for him. I’m thinking someone’s shot him on the side of the road.”

Sam’s co-workers even came to their house late at night to bang on their door. To protect himself and Sam, Burley bought his very first gun. He also got a concealed weapon permit, in case they were ever confronted when they went out in public.

“You always know that there’s hate out there. There’s individually people that never will be accepting of gay individuals. So you do have to take precautions to protect yourself and your family and your loved ones,” said Burley Williams.

Sam Williams relaxing with his two dogs Bella and Lacy.

Sam Williams finally had had enough, and he quit his job in 2010. He sued his former employer, Massey Energy for sexual harassment.

He couldn’t sue for discrimination, because in West Virginia it’s legal to discriminate against people who are gay. State law prohibits discriminating against people on the basis of sex or race – but the law doesn’t include sexual orientation. The same is true of other states in Appalachia, like Kentucky and Virginia.

Andrew Schneider is the Executive Director of Fairness West Virginia, a gay rights advocacy group. The group is trying to pass a law that would make it illegal to discriminate against an employee based on sexual orientation or gender identity.

“It’s particularly, I think, risky now, that we have marriage equality, because you can get married on Sunday and fired on Monday. Marriage, in some ways, makes our relationships in the gay community more visible. You are more prone to having your picture of your loved one on your desk. You’re more likely to wear your wedding ring. You want to talk with your co-workers about what you did with your family over the weekend. We never expected we would get marriage before we got non-discrimination,” said Andrew Schneider.”

Even without that legal protection, Sam Williams was able to get a settlement from his former employer. In 2011, Massey Energy was bought out by Alpha Natural Resources, and the new owners agreed to settle Sam’s case out of court. Alpha declined to comment on the case, but they did send an email saying the company “is committed to a workplace that is free of discrimination and where all employees, no matter their gender identity or sexual orientation, are treated fairly and with respect.”

Still, Sam Williams says he doesn’t think it would be safe to go back to mining. Now he works as a manager at a Dollar General.

“I do miss running good coal. I miss being top dogs on the coal crew- before everything started getting more violent. If there was a perfect world out there I’d love to be a coal miner again. But it’ll never happen again…more than likely. But it was fun.”

But it wasn’t fun once he had to look over his shoulder all the time, worried that somebody he worked with would follow through on their threats to kill him.

Even years later, Sam Williams still seems hurt that the people he thought were his close friends turned against him. In the song about him, the coal miner has a conversation with his co-workers. In the song, the miner tells them he’s still the true West Virginian he always was. That doesn’t change just because he’s gay.

To tell you the truth, I don’t want to fight

I just want to say one thing outright to you:

Ain’t we flesh and blood too?

And ain’t we brothers too?

Sam Gleaves is currently recording his debut album Aint We Brothers in Nashville, TN. The album is being produced by Cathy Fink and will be released this May.

Our story on Sam Gleaves and Sam Williams was reported by Roxy Todd, in collaboration with a new podcast WVPB is working on called Us & Them. Us & Them explores how Americans are divided along cultural fault lines. Listen for new episodes this spring.