Author: Arabella

I don’t want to make queer history clean. 

That was probably the biggest takeaway from reading Going Homo #2. I don’t want to turn this zine into a neat little artifact of queer progress, where everyone was brave and political and knew exactly what they were doing.

I was reading this zine with a close friend of mine when they mentioned how the zine was “A little misleading about how gay people held themselves.”, and of course that made my ears perk right up. I asked them to elaborate, and they said, “Well, being gay in the 90s was more about fighting for equality; we had to be respectful.” This coming from a person born in 2003 confused me.

Their version of gay 90s is Ellen and Will and Grace. This is exactly why I love queer zines; it allows us to be horny and remember the horny that came before us. I love that the zine is horny, angry, political, personal, and sometimes completely unhinged. I love that it feels like somebody made it because they had a lot to say and nowhere else to put it. Thank god for zines

“{Queer zine N. A sexy, subversive and explicit publication devoted to enlarging and examining our cultural assumptions.”

I tend to lean into lesbian works, but I am trying to push myself to discover more; that is what pulled me into Going Homo #2. It is so important to engage with other queer people and their sexuality and/or gender, especially right now. We need to be able to understand each other and where we are all coming from. 

Stephen Dedalus wanted submissions that are “outrageous, thoughtful, provocative, enraged or excited.” That list feels like the entire personality of the zine. Personally, I clung to the outrageous, and the “A dirty story” segment on page 9 absolutely floored me. 

I am sure we all remember the first time we became aware of our own bodies’ gross puberty stuff, yeah, yeah. Who hasn’t had at least one terribly embarrassing masturbation story? Well, the writer describes his first time trying to masturbate, and he ended up pissing on himself. I feel like that perfectly describes being a queer teen and growing up different without knowing why. Everyone else is always cumming, but here you are pissing on yourself. 

 In the zine, there are letters from readers, reviews of other zines, music recommendations, personal stories, political arguments, artwork, sex writing, and long angry rants. Some of it is genuinely funny. Some of it is uncomfortable. Some of it is really dated. I appreciated Going homo #2’s attitude toward language (for the most part). One of the writers says, “Words are powerful tools for both liberation and oppression.” The discussion isn’t presented as some settled conclusion. I use the term queer and alot and I most often identify myself as a dyke. I have noticed from talking to older gay people it is about 50/50 whether they use the same terms or it makes their skin absolutely crawl. 

As a queer person, I often find myself in a world that can turn hostile quickly, especially at night. In another section, a writer talks about types of boots you can wear to protect yourself. They are something you can wear because you are afraid of what might happen, but they can also become part of how you present yourself. I wear my brown leather Doc Martens everywhere, not only for looks, but for practicality too.

There can be an appeal to the heavy boots. I love leather *wink wink*, so big, heavy boots are already part of the day-to-day me. I like the feeling of putting them on and suddenly feeling a little more grounded. There is something satisfying about a shoe that feels substantial. Queer clothing can carry multiple meanings at once. A pair of heavy boots can be fashion but also a reminder that you are moving through a world where you sometimes have to be more aware.

There is also something kind of melancholy about how familiar that feeling still is. I was excited to be able to relate to it. Then I very quickly was upset that I was able to relate to it so well. 

When it came to the bands mentioned in the music section, I felt lost as hell. The only familiar band I saw was Bikini Kill, whom my partner and I actually saw earlier this month. There is something strange and wonderful about reading this old queer zine and seeing a band that exists in my own life now. 

Sidebar: I think punk shows are great for relationships; there’s nothing sexier than throwing yourself at your partner head to head, sweating, touching, and getting bruised to hell and back. If you need something to do on Saturday night, go find a fucking show. If you play your cards right, maybe you can bring home your own sexy queer 😉

The last couple of pages are a rant about the relationship between white Christian heterosexual power and the oppression of queer people, but Jazmyn does not stop there. They connect homophobia to racism, sexism, and the political power of religious and social institutions. The argument keeps expanding because these systems of oppression all rely on each other to keep perpetuating them. It is so important to talk about how these systems of oppression coexist and collide to understand harmful rhetoric.

Jazmyn refuses to separate queer issues from everything else happening around them. The KKK, Christianity, racism, sexism, heterosexuality, and mainstream political power all become part of the same conversation. All of these things affect us, and all of them intersect in some form or another. We cannot divide queer issues into their own category separated from race, gender, and religion. 

Bitchin about systems designed to keep us in a perpetual loop of shit is my favorite thing. The more we bitch, the more will change. Rant up a fucking storm and stay classy, queers.

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Arabella (She/They) is interning at QZAP fall of 2026. She is an undergraduate at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee finishing her last year in Women’s and Gender studies. In her free time Arabella likes to spend time with her dog Magdalena and play learn the banjo.