Keeping the tradition alive

Lesbopalooza has filled a gap in the community

Now in its fourth year, Lesbopalooza has grown from a glorified house party to an established event that draws bands from across the country.

The first Lesbopalooza was organized in 2000 by former Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer Alliance co-director Gabbie Hendel.

Cat McGraw, the current event coordinator for the LGBTQA, described Hendel as an "indie riot girl" with a love of music and connections to back it up. Bands passing through Eugene always seemed to end up playing at Hendel's house after their shows, McGraw said. By the time Hendel graduated, established musicians such as Bitch and Animal and Mirah had graced her garage.

For the actual event, Hendel left her living room and booked Agate Hall at the University. Her one-night festival boasted four bands, a modest but strong start.

"Even that first year, people came from out of state," McGraw said.

The next year, Hendel doubled the size of Lesbopalooza, stretched it over two days and booked the WOW Hall, a popular Eugene venue with a rich history. Lesbopalooza has continued to grow each year, building up to 2003's three-day event, which took eight months of planning and $11,000.

In creating Lesbopalooza, McGraw said, Hendel was responding to the need for a venue to perform "queer music."

"We talk a lot in the office about how we don't see ourselves on TV and hear ourselves on the radio," McGraw said. "The people that perform at Lesbopalooza speak about gay relationships and coming out... stuff that we're dealing with."

The visibility Lesbopalooza created for lesbians had an impact on McGraw much larger than the pounding tune of any band.

"The very first year I volunteered, it was a huge part of my coming-out process," McGraw said. "It was such a big deal to be part of something so unique, but also to be so openly gay. It was scary, but it made me feel really strong about where I was going and my activism."

The openness about homosexuality McGraw encountered at the University of Oregon was a stark contrast from her home town of 1,200 "folks" in North Carolina.

"It was not a safe place to be for the little gays," she said. "At college, it was so comforting to see the LGBTQA and Lesbopalooza -- to see normal gay folk being happy and doing the life thing."