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Festering frustration
Activists say police abuse is common link to gay, black riots


Some in the LGBT community questioned why Baltimore black youth would riot in their own neighborhoods, ignoring their own community’s history of rioting against police injustice. (Photo by Victoria Macchi/VOA News public domain)
The Stonewall riots triggered by a police raid on a New York City gay bar in 1969 and three other lesser known gay riots in San Francisco were reactions to police abuse and perceived societal oppression, according to LGBT activists familiar with those incidents.
San Francisco gay and AIDS activist Cleve Jones, who witnessed two of the gay riots in his city in 1979 and 1991, is among those who say there are similarities between the police abuse experienced by young gay men back in the 1960s and 1970s and young black men today.
Jones and other LGBT activists point to the incident involving 25-year-old African American Freddie Gray, whose death on April 19 from a severe spinal cord injury he sustained while in custody of Baltimore police triggered riots and looting.
Officials with several national LGBT rights groups, including the National Black Justice Coalition, have joined African-American civil rights leaders in denouncing the action by six Baltimore police officers who detained and arrested Gray on a charge of possessing a small knife that was later found to be legal to carry.
The groups said Gray’s death in a police-related incident, after officers reportedly ignored his pleas for medical treatment while being transported in a police wagon, highlighted similar instances of reported abuse by police against young black men in Baltimore and other parts of the country, including Ferguson, Mo.
“Where you can draw a parallel is with police relations,” Jones says. “I think to be a young gay person in San Francisco in the late 1970s, you would have many of the same kinds of feelings as young African Americans feel toward the police today.”
“When I got to San Francisco, the cops hated us. And they made it very, very clear every day,” Jones says. “I’m an old white man and unlikely to be singled out for my appearance for abuse by the police. But my memories of it from my youth are fresh.”
Jones was a student intern working for San Francisco Board of Supervisors member and gay rights advocate Harvey Milk in November 1978. It was at that time when Dan White, a disgruntled former police officer who had just resigned from his position as one of Milk’s fellow supervisors, shot Milk to death in Milk’s office at City Hall.
White killed Milk minutes after assassinating pro-gay San Francisco Mayor George Moscone in the mayor’s office in a fit of rage over Moscone’s refusal to reappoint White to his supervisor’s seat. White had announced he changed his mind and wanted to remain in office. Milk was among his fellow supervisors who urged Moscone not to reappoint White, who was part of a conservative faction on the Board of Supervisors that opposed Milk on many policy matters.
In May 1979, gays and other San Franciscans became outraged when a jury ignored prosecutors’ calls for convicting White on a first-degree murder charge and instead found him guilty of voluntary manslaughter, the most lenient possible charge for shooting two people to death.
Similar to the turn of events in Baltimore 36 years later, gays responded by holding a protest rally in the gay Castro neighborhood, which was Milk’s home base. They marched peacefully through the streets as the crowd swelled from about 500 to more than 1,500 people, according to news media accounts.
When the gathering of mostly LGBT people reached City Hall its ranks had increased to about 5,000, and violence broke out.
Police cars were set on fire, windows of nearby buildings were smashed and overhead wires for the city’s street cars were pulled down. Some of the rioters took tear gas canisters from damaged police cars and threw them at police, who initially stood on the sidelines at the direction of the police chief, again similar to the Baltimore disturbances this year, before the chief directed them to confront the rioters and force them away from the City Hall area.
About two-dozen arrests were made and more than 140 protesters and as many as 60 police officers were injured, news media reports said. The rioting caused hundreds of thousands of dollars in property damage to the City Hall building and nearby buildings and vehicles.
Jones, who was present when the rioting unfolded, said the longtime police hostility toward the gay community combined with the shock of a lenient jury verdict for the man who murdered Milk, a gay icon, prompted normally peaceful gays to embrace violence.
“I saw people who were known to be very well mannered who were completely consumed with rage and hatred of the police department,” he said. “It was a real desire to fight back, a sense that we had taken this kind of crap for far too long. … I think the LGBT people who were there that night — within all of us — the memories of prior abuses, the reality that we had been beaten up and called names and put down for so long — and then it was the last straw — that this all white, straight jury basically gave him a slap on the wrist.”
Compton’s Cafeteria Riot pre-dates Stonewall
New York’s Stonewall riots in Greenwich Village in 1969, where gays and transgender people fought back against a police raid, is considered the historic development that started the modern LGBT rights movement.
But three years earlier, in August 1966, a confrontation between a police officer and a person witnesses described as a drag queen inside Compton’s Cafeteria in San Francisco’s Tenderloin section erupted into what has become known as Compton’s Cafeteria Riot.
Transgender historian Susan Stryker, who co-wrote and co-directed a documentary film about the incident in 2005 called “Screaming Queens: The Riot at Compton’s Cafeteria,” is credited with helping piece together a comprehensive report on what happened.
LGBT activists are now calling the incident one of the first known transgender riots in U.S. history based on reports that Compton’s was a hangout for people who today would be considered transgender women.
Also patronizing Compton’s Cafeteria in the Tenderloin were the trans women’s gay male and lesbian friends. Nearly all of them, the documentary film says, were struggling to survive at a time when they were considered outcasts. Most lived in nearby cheap rooming houses and many engaged in prostitution. Most were also often harassed by the police at a time when cross dressing was against the law, Stryker reports in the documentary film.
According to the film, the riot started when a police officer threatened to arrest one of the male-to-female cross dressers inside Compton’s and she threw her coffee in his face. People interviewed in the film, which can be viewed on YouTube, said a melee then broke out among police and as many as 50 people inside the establishment, with windows shattered and dishes and furniture tossed around the room.
The fighting soon moved outside the restaurant, people in the film reported, creating a disturbance considered a full-fledged riot on the street.
“The violent oppression (and riot) of transgender people at Compton’s Cafeteria did not solve the problems that transgender people in the Tenderloin faced daily,” said transgender activist Autumn Sandeen in a 2010 article about the incident in gaylesbiantimes.com. “It did, however, create a space in which it became possible for the city of San Francisco to begin relating differently to its transgender citizens — to begin treating them, in fact, as citizens with legitimate needs instead of simply as a problem to get rid of.”
AB 1 Riots triggered by veto of gay rights bill
The fourth known gay riot in the United States took place in San Francisco on Sept. 30, 1991, after then-Republican Gov. Pete Wilson vetoed Assembly Bill 1, a gay rights measure that called for banning discrimination in employment, housing and public accommodations based on sexual orientation.
The bill had been stalled in committee for years before both houses of the legislature finally passed it in September 1991. Gay activists and their supporters in the legislature were outraged over Wilson’s veto, saying he acquiesced to the anti-gay faction of the state’s Republican Party.
“As was the case in the White Night riots, a large crowd assembled in the Castro and stormed the civic center,” says Jones, who was present as the crowd grew and became increasingly angry. “But instead of stopping at City Hall they went to the state building and did their best to set it on fire.”
A short documentary film on the AB 1 Riot, which included TV news footage of the incident, says about 2,000 protesters marched to the state building, where Wilson had an office. Protesters can be seen in the film using sections of metal barricade fences as battering rams to smash through the building’s glass doors.
The film also shows a protester using a large pole with a rainbow flag attached to it to smash through the glass doors on the building. It says the rioting caused over $250,000 in damage to the building, but no arrests were made and no serious injuries were reported.
‘Intersection’ between Baltimore and LGBT rights movement
Officials with some of the national LGBT groups talked about what they called the intersection between the Baltimore riots in late April of this year and the LGBT civil rights movement.
“The recent events in Baltimore and throughout the nation have been emotional, hurtful and even traumatic for so many in the black community,” says Sharon Lettman-Hicks, executive director and CEO of the National Black Justice Coalition, an LGBT civil rights organization.
“At the National Black Justice Coalition, we are dedicated to changing the mainstream narrative around socially marginalized black people, especially young people, because issues like police brutality and economic injustice are also LGBT issues that disproportionately impact LGBT people of color.”
“Black LGBT people cannot separate their blackness from their sexual orientation, gender expression or gender identity,” she says. “Issues that confront black people — like structural oppression, classism and racism in America — impact black LGBT people twofold.”
Mara Keisling, executive director of the National Center for Transgender Equality, says transgender people often face “brutal victimization, mistreatment and violence at the hands of law enforcement.”
She says NCTE works to address police abuse not only for transgender people but for everyone in its quest for “a more just society.”
According to Keisling, at least one transgender woman who was arrested during the Baltimore disturbances was placed in a men’s jail after police learned she was transgender. She was “forced to remove her undergarments and made to reveal her body to officers,” Keisling says.
“Our hearts go out to the family of Freddie Gray and to those people whose hearts are broken with grief,” says Rea Carey, executive director of the National LGBTQ Task Force. “Police-related killings of young black men have become a regular occurrence across our nation. So in a very real way what is happening in Baltimore is a predictable reaction to appalling injustice, deep mistrust of police and a real sense that nothing will be done about it.”
“The beauty and responsibility of the LGBT community is that we’re at the intersection of everything,” says Human Rights Campaign Vice President Fred Sainz. “We’re black, Asian, Latino and everything in between.
“Because of the stigma we face and the lack of legal protections, LGBT people are also more likely to face economic disenfranchisement,” he says. “What all of this means is that this must be a shared struggle and we also have a responsibility to make life better for all Americans.”
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From Prohibition to Pride: Queering the District podcast reveals local LGBTQ history
The new podcast explores the hidden history and enduring impact of queer spaces in Washington, D.C.

On June 25, as Pride month inched toward its end, three queer creators launched an ambitious project to honor the spaces that built D.C.’s LGBTQ community—and connect them to today’s queer life. The first episode of their podcast, Queering the District, hit streaming platforms that day, aiming to spotlight what host and co-creator Abby Stuckrath calls “third places”: bars, clubs, and gathering spots that have served as hubs for queer life across the city.
Each episode of the 10-part series delves into a different piece of D.C.’s queer past—from landmark clubs to untold personal stories—told through the voices of drag legends, activists, DJs, historians, and patrons who lived it. The show also threads together personal experiences from today’s community, bringing the listener on an auditory journey from Prohibition-era speakeasies to contemporary nights out at places like As You Are or Saints & Sinners.
Abby Stuckrath, alongside her sibling Ellie Stuckrath, and producer Mads Reagan, make up the podcast’s creative team. A recent journalism graduate of American University, Abby told the Blade that her passion for queer storytelling began during college—and that D.C. itself played a defining role in shaping her queer identity.
“I went to American University. I graduated last year and studied journalism. When I was in school, I always wanted to focus on queer stories – especially in D.C., because I’m from Denver, Colorado, I’ve never lived in a place like this before. D.C. has always just kind of been a place I call home when it comes to my queer identity.”
But breaking into the media to tell those stories wasn’t easy. Stuckrath quickly learned that editorial support—and funding—for queer-focused projects is limited. So she decided to do it her own way.
“I kind of found out that if you want to tell stories, you kind of have to do it on your own– especially when it comes to queer stories. There’s not a lot of people begging for us to talk about queer people and to pay you for it. So I was like, ‘Okay, let’s just do it on my own.’”
The idea for the podcast first took root in conversations with Ellie, Abby’s sibling and biggest supporter. Ellie had also moved to D.C. to find more space to explore and express their queer and gender identities. Together, the two began shaping a vision that would combine storytelling, sound design, and grassroots community input.
“I was like, ‘I don’t know what exactly I want to do yet, but I want it to be queer, and I want it to be about D.C., and it’s going to be called Queering the District, and we’re going to find out what that means.’ And Ellie is my biggest supporter, and my best friend. And they were like, ‘Hell yeah. Like, let’s do this.’ And so we decided to just do it together.”
The name stuck—and so did the mission. The team began researching queer D.C. history and found a city overflowing with stories that had rarely been documented, especially in mainstream archives.
“We started looking up the history of queer culture in D.C., and it kind of just clicked from there,” Stuckrath said. “I did not know anything about how rich our history is in the city until one Google search, and then I just kept learning more and more. I was kind of pissed because I studied gender studies in school in D.C. and didn’t learn shit about this.”
Season one focuses on the role of third places—non-work, non-home spaces where queer people could gather, exist fully, and build community.
“Third places have always been the epicenter of queer life… places outside of just your own personal home, because sometimes that isn’t a safe place. And of course, the work most commonly in the past and still today, isn’t a safe place for queer people to be full of themselves. So like, bars were the first place for queer people to really thrive and meet each other.”
To make the show participatory, Queering the District includes a twist: a voicemail line where anyone can call in and share a memory or question. The team calls the phone “Fifi”—a nod to the kind of retro guestbooks often used at weddings, but reimagined for queer nightlife and history.
“We wanted to find a way for people to share their stories with us anonymously… so even though we start in Prohibition, we wanted to connect it to now—like, those people who were singing jazz to each other in a white queer bar are connected to you singing karaoke on a Sunday night at your favorite gay bar. We’re all interconnected by this third place of queer bars in D.C.”
Those connections are emotional as well as historical. While building the series, one realization hit Stuckrath particularly hard: the immense loss of queer spaces in D.C., especially in neighborhoods that have since been heavily redeveloped.
“Every time I go to a Nats game, I think about, well, this just replaced five gay bars that used to be here. It used to be the home of Ziegfeld’s… Tracks, which was almost 2,000 square feet, with a volleyball court in the back, a fire pit, and iconic light show. I just didn’t know that we had that, and it made me sad for the queer elders that are in our city now who walk the streets and don’t see all those places they used to call home.”
That sense of loss—alongside the joy and resilience of queer community—is what the show aims to capture. As the podcast continues, Abby hopes it serves as both a celebration and an educational tool, especially for young LGBTQ people arriving in D.C. without realizing the queer foundations they’re walking on.
“D.C. is a unique city, and specifically young queer people who are hoping to move to the city—to know that you’ve got to know your history to be here. I hope this serves as an easier way for you to consume and learn about queer history, because queer history defines how we move in life.”
And for all the voices still left out, Abby is clear: this podcast is an open door, not a final word.
“This is a perfectly imperfect podcast. We should just be a starting point. We shouldn’t be the ending point.”
New episodes of Queering the District drop every Wednesday on all major platforms.
a&e features
Doug Spearman takes his chance
‘Noah’s Arc: The Movie’ debuted on Paramount+ last month

There’s no question that when Patrik-Ian Polk’s series “Noah’s Arc” premiered on Logo 20 years ago, it was a groundbreaking creation. The story of a group of Black gay men and their wonderful friendship. The titular arc was that of the cute main character, Noah (Darryl Stephens), and his close-knit circle of friends, including Chance played by gay actor Doug Spearman. This compelling and loving fraternity may, in fact, be what brought viewers back repeatedly, including a 2008 movie, “Noah’s Arc: Jumping the Broom,” as well as the 2020 “Noah’s Arc” short, and now, a new full-length feature “Noah’s Arc: The Movie,” debuting on Paramount+ on June 20. In the movie, filled with equal measures of laughs and tears, Chance, who has faced a devastating loss, finds his dependable friends there, ready to support and comfort him at a moment’s notice. I had the pleasure of speaking with Spearman the morning of the streaming premiere of “Noah’s Arc: The Movie.”
WASHINGTON BLADE: Doug, since the early 2000s, when the “Noah’s Arc” series premiered on Logo, you have been playing the character of Chance, including in the latest installment, “Noah’s Arc: The Movie.” What was it about Chance that appealed to you as an actor?
SPEARMAN: When Patrik (-Ian Polk) called me to ask me to play him (Chance), I was at JFK airport in the baggage claim, waiting for a suitcase. He explained what the part was. The thing that stuck out to me was the fact that Chance was in a long-term relationship with another Black man. And, they had a child; they had a 4-year-old daughter named Kenya. I had never seen two Black gay men raise a child on TV before. I thought it was the most revolutionary thing I’d ever seen. I immediately thought I’ve got to do this because that was something nobody had seen. I thought it was incredibly important to take the part.
BLADE: “Noah’s Arc: The Movie” was, once again, written and directed by Patrik-Ian Polk, who you just mentioned, is the creator of the entire franchise. What’s the secret to your long-standing working relationship?
SPEARMAN: [Laughs] the whole team, all of us, are like a band of brothers. We fight like brothers, we come together like brothers, we hash things out, we talk, because we’re all very different from our characters. I think the challenge of playing these guys and then uplifting these men, playing a part, especially something written by Patrik, is like solving a math equation. There’s always a challenge that’s enjoyable for me as an actor: to try to find out what it is that Patrik wants, and then how do I do it.
BLADE: I think you do a very good job of it.
SPEARMAN: Thank you very much
BLADE: In the years between “Jumping the Broom” and the new full-length movie, many changes have occurred, and the story addresses some of them, including gay widowhood, which is something that the aging community is now confronting, as well as mental health issues. Please say a few words about how you approached those subjects in the new movie.
SPEARMAN: I had a lot of loss in my life, right before we started shooting. Two months before we started shooting the first series, my mother died. I was going through the grief process through that whole first season. Since then, I’ve lost a lot of people in my life. In fact, when we started shooting the second season, the second week we were shooting, my ex died of a heart attack. I was having to fold that into what I was doing with my life on the set and off the set. You’ve got to show up and you’ve got to do your work. The first two seasons of “Noah’s Arc” are always tinged with the memory of grief. So, when I had to deal with the death that Chance faces (in the new movie), which is a significant death in his life, it wasn’t that hard to reach back, especially the scene in the graveyard. It was something that I unfortunately could pull from personal experience.
BLADE: Shifting gears, the movie features delightful cast surprises, including Jasmine Guy and TS Madison. Did you have a chance to interact with either or both when they were on set?
SPEARMAN: No, I didn’t have any scenes with Jasmine, and I missed her. I wish I had gotten to see her because I actually got to direct Jasmine for a CBS promo shoot for “Queen,” back in the early ‘90s. I had a huge crush on her when she was on “A Different World.” So, I really would have liked to reconnect. But TS and I got to see each other every day because I was in all her scenes. It was extraordinary being around somebody like that. That is one outspoken woman!
BLADE: Even though Beyoncé never makes an appearance in the movie, there’s a lot of talk about her. Would you say you are a Beyoncé fan?
SPEARMAN: Yes! I’m breathing! Yes, I’m a Beyoncé fan. I actually got the chance to meet her. I knew her mom. Her mom was extraordinary to me. She is in the second movie I directed. She also gave us a wedding gown to use in the very first scene of the movie. That family is extraordinarily important to me. Not only just to be a fan, but to be somebody who’s gotten to know them and work with them and see how hard they work. I don’t think anybody works as hard as Tina or Beyoncé.
BLADE: There was a recent news item about gay actor Benito Skinner of the Amazon Prime series “Overcompensating” being told not to bother auditioning for straight roles. As an out actor yourself, how important do you think it is for queer characters to be portrayed by queer actors, and vice versa?
SPEARMAN: Being queer is a multifaceted identity. There’s no one kind of queer person. I think finding the best actor that’s your first circle of casting. I think one of the joys about being an actor is that you get to play different parts. I play straight guys all the time. Dads and husbands and things like that. I think a lot of people are told not to do it. In fact, I wouldn’t be Chance if the actor who was originally cast as Chance hadn’t been pulled out of the series by his agents because they didn’t want him to play a gay character.
BLADE: That’s amazing! Thank you for sharing that. Without giving away too much, the ending of the movie is a little ambiguous, even ending with a question mark. If there was a “Noah’s Arc: The Movie” sequel, would you come back for that?
SPEARMAN: Yeah! A lot of it would depend on what Chance’s journey is going to be like. Patrik and I have conversations like that all the time. He’s very interested and supportive of input. I hope I would be, as we all would be, part of the creative growth with these characters. They live in Patrik’s head, and he writes them, but we’re the ones who have to flesh them out. It’s a conversation, it’s always a conversation.
BLADE: You are currently performing in Molière’s “The Imaginary Invalid” as part of the New Orleans Shakespeare Festival at Tulane. What has this experience been like for you?
SPEARMAN: It’s extraordinary! I started on stage when I was seven. There’s nothing like working with a live audience and having that immediacy. I’m working with an extraordinarily talented cast in a really great play, and I have some of the best scene partners I could ever want.
BLADE: Are there any upcoming film or TV projects you’d like to mention?
SPEARMAN: I’m still a writer, and I’m still a director, and I’ve still got scripts that I would like to make. I have a little something that’s a cross between “Treme” and “Bridgerton” that I want to do. I’m always trying to figure out what the next thing is.
a&e features
Visit Cambridge, a ‘beautiful secret’ on Maryland’s Eastern Shore
New organization promotes town’s welcoming vibe, LGBTQ inclusion

CAMBRIDGE, Md. — Driving through this scenic, historic town on Maryland’s Eastern Shore, you’ll be charmed by streets lined with unique shops, restaurants, and beautifully restored Victorian homes. You’ll also be struck by the number of LGBTQ Pride flags flying throughout the town.
The flags are a reassuring signal that everyone is welcome here, despite the town’s location in ruby red Dorchester County, which voted for Donald Trump over Kamala Harris by a lopsided margin. But don’t let that deter you from visiting. A new organization, Proudly Cambridge, is holding its debut Pride event this weekend, touting the town’s welcoming, inclusive culture.
“We stumbled on a beautiful secret and we wanted to help get the word out,” said James Lumalcuri of the effort to create Proudly Cambridge.
The organization celebrates diversity, enhances public spaces, and seeks to uplift all that Cambridge has to share, according to its mission statement, under the tagline “You Belong Here.”
The group has so far held informal movie nights and a picnic and garden party; the launch party is June 28 at the Cambridge Yacht Club, which will feature a Pride celebration and tea dance. The event’s 75 tickets sold out quickly and proceeds benefit DoCo Pride.
“Tickets went faster than we imagined and we’re bummed we can’t welcome everyone who wanted to come,” Lumalcuri said, adding that organizers plan to make “Cheers on the Choptank” an annual event with added capacity next year.
One of the group’s first projects was to distribute free Pride flags to anyone who requested one and the result is a visually striking display of a large number of flags flying all over town. Up next: Proudly Cambridge plans to roll out a program offering affirming businesses rainbow crab stickers to show their inclusiveness and LGBTQ support. The group also wants to engage with potential visitors and homebuyers.
“We want to spread the word outside of Cambridge — in D.C. and Baltimore — who don’t know about Cambridge,” Lumalcuri said. “We want them to come and know we are a safe haven. You can exist here and feel comfortable and supported by neighbors in a way that we didn’t anticipate when we moved here.”

Lumalcuri, 53, a federal government employee, and his husband, Lou Cardenas, 62, a Realtor, purchased a Victorian house in Cambridge in 2021 and embarked on an extensive renovation. The couple also owns a home in Adams Morgan in D.C.
“We saw the opportunity here and wanted to share it with others,” Cardenas said. “There’s lots of housing inventory in the $300-400,000 range … we’re not here to gentrify people out of town because a lot of these homes are just empty and need to be fixed up and we’re happy to be a part of that.”
Lumalcuri was talking with friends one Sunday last year at the gazebo (affectionately known as the “gayzebo” by locals) at the Yacht Club and the idea for Proudly Cambridge was born. The founding board members are Lumalcuri, Corey van Vlymen, Brian Orjuela, Lauren Mross, and Caleb Holland. The group is currently working toward forming a 501(c)3.
“We need visibility and support for those who need it,” Mross said. “We started making lists of what we wanted to do and the five of us ran with it. We started meeting weekly and solidified what we wanted to do.”
Mross, 50, a brand strategist and web designer, moved to Cambridge from Atlanta with her wife three years ago. They knew they wanted to be near the water and farther north and began researching their options when they discovered Cambridge.
“I had not heard of Cambridge but the location seemed perfect,” she said. “I pointed on a map and said this is where we’re going to move.”
The couple packed up, bought a camper trailer and parked it in different campsites but kept coming back to Cambridge.
“I didn’t know how right it was until we moved here,” she said. “It’s the most welcoming place … there’s an energy vortex here – how did so many cool, progressive people end up in one place?”
Corey van Vlymen and his husband live in D.C. and were looking for a second home. They considered Lost River, W.Va., but decided they preferred to be on the water.
“We looked at a map on both sides of the bay and came to Cambridge on a Saturday and bought a house that day,” said van Vlymen, 39, a senior scientist at Booz Allen Hamilton. They’ve owned in Cambridge for two years.
They were drawn to Cambridge due to its location on the water, the affordable housing inventory, and its proximity to D.C.; it’s about an hour and 20 minutes away.
Now, through the work of Proudly Cambridge, they hope to highlight the town’s many attributes to residents and visitors alike.
“Something we all agree on is there’s a perception problem for Cambridge and a lack of awareness,” van Vlymen said. “If you tell someone you’re going to Cambridge, chances are they think, ‘England or Massachusetts?’”
He cited the affordability and the opportunity to save older, historic homes as a big draw for buyers.
“It’s all about celebrating all the things that make Cambridge great,” Mross added. “Our monthly social events are joyful and celebratory.” A recent game night drew about 70 people.
She noted that the goal is not to gentrify the town and push longtime residents out, but to uplift all the people who are already there while welcoming new visitors and future residents.
They also noted that Proudly Cambridge does not seek to supplant existing Pride-focused organizations. Dorchester County Pride organizes countywide Pride events and Delmarva Pride was held in nearby Easton two weeks ago.
“We celebrate all diversity but are gay powered and gay led,” Mross noted.
To learn more about Proudly Cambridge, visit the group on Facebook and Instagram.
What to see and do
Cambridge, located 13 miles up the Choptank River from the Chesapeake Bay, has a population of roughly 15,000. It was settled in 1684 and named for the English university town in 1686. It is home to the Harriet Tubman Museum, mural, and monument. Its proximity to the Blackwater National Wildlife Refuge makes it a popular stop for birders, drawn to more than 27,000 acres of marshland dubbed “the Everglades of the north.”
The refuge is walkable, bikeable, and driveable, making it an accessible attraction for all. There are kayaking and biking tours through Blackwater Adventures (blackwateradventuresmd.com).
Back in town, take a stroll along the water and through historic downtown and admire the architecture. Take in the striking Harriet Tubman mural (424 Race St.). Shop in the many local boutiques, and don’t miss the gay-owned Shorelife Home and Gifts (421 Race St.), filled with stylish coastal décor items.
Stop for breakfast or lunch at Black Water Bakery (429 Race St.), which offers a full compliment of coffee drinks along with a build-your-own mimosa bar and a full menu of creative cocktails.
The Cambridge Yacht Club (1 Mill St.) is always bustling but you need to be a member to get in. Snapper’s on the water is temporarily closed for renovations. RaR Brewing (rarbrewing.com) is popular for craft beers served in an 80-year-old former pool hall and bowling alley. The menu offers burgers, wings, and other bar fare.
For dinner or wine, don’t miss the fantastic Vintage 414 (414 Race St.), which offers lunch, dinner, wine tasting events, specialty foods, and a large selection of wines. The homemade cheddar crackers, inventive flatbreads, and creative desserts (citrus olive oil cake, carrot cake trifle) were a hit on a recent visit.
Also nearby is Ava’s (305 High St.), a regional chain offering outstanding Italian dishes, pizzas, and more.
For something off the beaten path, visit Emily’s Produce (22143 Church Creek Rd.) for its nursery, produce, and prepared meals.
“Ten minutes into the sticks there’s a place called Emily’s Produce, where you can pay $5 and walk through a field and pick sunflowers, blueberries, you can feed the goats … and they have great food,” van Vlymen said.
As for accommodations, there’s the Hyatt Regency Chesapeake Bay (100 Heron Blvd. at Route 50), a resort complex with golf course, spa, and marina. Otherwise, check out Airbnb and VRBO for short-term rentals closer to downtown.
Its proximity to D.C. and Baltimore makes Cambridge an ideal weekend getaway. The large LGBTQ population is welcoming and they are happy to talk up their town and show you around.
“There’s a closeness among the neighbors that I wasn’t feeling in D.C.,” Lumalcuri said. “We look after each other.”
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