Books
Florida’s war on Black, queer lives hidden no more
New book ‘American Scare’ exposes truth of decades of erasure, attacks
‘American Scare: Florida’s Hidden Cold War on Black and Queer Lives’
By Robert W. Fieseler
“What’s with Florida?,” Bobby Fieseler, disgusted, asked after completing his initial research into the vicious investigation of suspected homosexual teachers by the Florida Legislative Investigation Committee (FLIC) in the 1950s. How did the official animus toward all things queer happen in Florida, Fieseler pitched his publisher. We can be grateful Dutton gave him the green light for “American Scare, Florida’s Hidden Cold War on Black and Queer Lives.”
Fieseler’s book is a masterpiece of archive activism that begins in a rental van escaping Florida with some 20 boxes of historical documents meant to be seen by no one. The cartons contained a secret second copy of materials that had been held back from the jaws of the Florida State Archives in Tallahassee. Soon, more folders would surface with unredacted materials. “There are friends of Dorothy in any system,” he explains his archival detective work with a wink.
What’s with Florida? In the 1950s, it was all about legislators exposing politically helpless homosexuals to justify the committee’s investigations and budgets. The FLIC documents reveal the names of the accused “perverts,” the cops who raided the restrooms, the terrified queer informants and the professional interview techniques that would extract confessions from the victims. On another level, this was about old-school Southern racists determined to stop integration at all costs with intention to weave lies about Communist infiltration of the NAACP. Finally, Fieseler encountered first-hand an official determination to erase and lock-up this history. The statewide obsession with erasing history continues to this day. The Florida Department of Transportation this year painted over the community rainbow crosswalk memorial to the Pulse nightclub massacre victims in Orlando.
“American Scare” is such a fully documented investigation of what unfolded, it will be impossible to paint over the magnitude of this assault. The book bears witness in gory detail to the ruination of private people that exceeds in pure perniciousness the more famous “Lavender Scare.” Although the “Lavender Scare” purged many more individuals, it was about the U.S. Department of State firing public officials slimed as “pinstripe twerps.” The Florida investigations were a statewide purge using a dark politics of exposure of schoolteachers leading private lives. Fieseler quotes Remus Strickland, the head homo-hunter and executive director of the Southern Association of Intelligence Agents formed in response to the Supreme Court’s Brown v. Board of Education desegregation decision (1954), “If the Committee’s first pursuit (race and Communism) was a mandate, its second pursuit (homosexuals) was an opportunity.” Remus (that’s really this Southerner’s name) explained years later without remorse, “We first looked at the University of Florida for Communists….then we came back and did the homosexual purge.” Fieseler’s archival research reveals how far-right politicians and investigators like Strickland characterized Communists, African Americans (through the NAACP) and homosexuals as aligned “treasonously in a subversive societal infestation.”
The whole show was the creation of a wily, populist politician — a Florida “Pork Chopper” — Charley Johns, president of the Florida Senate. “Pork Choppers,” the rural, white Northern Florida wing of the old Democratic Party, controlled the state legislature from the 1930s to the 1960s. They were strongly opposed to integration, Communists, homosexuals, reapportionment and government reform. Johns owned the Charley E. Johns Insurance Agency, which insured state agencies. Fieseler’s history brings these North Florida politicians into grotesque focus. Their “power had lynched history,” he writes about his passion to excavate how they sealed and redacted the records so they would never face responsibility for their actions.
“American Scare” reveals how these Pork Choppers were willing to crush homosexuals as an instrument to maintain power. Their victims were isolated gay and lesbian teachers who could only plead for mercy, vanish or inform on one another. They were entrapped by the system itself. Fieseler tells the story of how Remus Strickland pulled Miss Poston, a physical education teacher out of her classroom surprising her with a tape recorder and a request to give a misdirecting statement about the prevention of child molestation. Suddenly Remus changed the subject: “Miss Poston, in your acts with Miss Bradshaw whom you referred to on this record, would she play the part of the aggressor…..She was known as the butch is that true?….Was there any occasion of any oral copulation?” He closed in for the kill, “Could there have been more than one time”? Miss Poston caved, “Possibly but if so only one more time.” The reel-to-reel tape is turning.
Concert pianist and music teacher William James Neal received the same taped grilling. Remus begins the interview, “You’re an educated Nigra,” confronting Neal with testimony he was a homosexual “nigra.” Years later, Neal remembered, “He told me I would never teach within the continental limits of the United States. He said he had proof I was a homosexual.” An African-American concert pianist, Neal had extensively toured the U.S. playing with major orchestras and hosting his own radio program in Florida. Neal had the self-respect and courage to take his illegal termination to the Florida Supreme Court. In 1962, the court ruled in his favor (Neal v. Bryant) handing Remus Strickland a devastating defeat, writing “The statements accused teachers allegedly made were obviously extracted under a threat of publicity.” Vindicated, William Neal nonetheless left Florida never to return.
There have been resolutions for an acknowledgment and apology. None have advanced through the Republican-controlled legislature occupied with a slew of “Don’t Say Gay” bills. “American Scare’ is larger than a small-bore history of investigations. It is the story of a Great Florida Teacher’s Purge launched to stop integration. Fieseler is done with redactions. He names names. If there is anything redemptive in this Southern hot mess, it is this: Bobby Fieseler, a queer historian, rescued the boxes and delivers readers their contents with history’s gale force.
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Books
David Archuleta on Mormon faith, ‘Idol,’ more in new book
Unique memoir details religious upbringing, coming out
‘Devout: Losing My Faith to Find Myself’
By David Archuleta
c.2026, Gallery Books
$29/290 pages
So just make up your mind already.
The decision is very much in your control – or, at least that’s how it’s supposed to be. It’ll be your future, your path, and seizing it may not just be necessary, but mandatory. It’s your life, and no one can live it for you. As in the new memoir “Devout” by David Archuleta, that goes for career and for love, too.
Born to parents who both had musical careers before they wed, David Archuleta remembers an early childhood growing up in a Hispanic Mormon community in Florida, where kin was always nearby. He was six when his parents moved the immediate family to Utah; the first thing he remembers about that is the snow, and how it was so cold, it burned.
Because music was in his blood, Archuleta grew up singing and dancing, often with his mother whom he calls “my rock.” It was his father, however, who encouraged him to perform; first, with a gentle push, then a shove toward a career Archuleta didn’t really want.
But he did want to make his father happy, so he went along with the contests, embarrassing meet-and-greets with stars, and uncomfortable introductions. Slowly, though, performing became more fun, and Archuleta made friends.
Meanwhile, back home, everything was breaking apart. A “family friend” whom Archuleta refuses to name accused his father of abuse. He was exonerated, but it affected the family’s closeness and they stopped being affectionate.
That was a painful backdrop to Archuleta’s soaring career, his appearances on Star Search, friendships with other rising stars, his runner-up spot on “American Idol,” tours, and recording contracts. His father kept pushing him.
But there was one thing missing.
Since he was a boy, Archuleta had known that he was attracted to men, but his Mormon faith taught him that that was unacceptable. Kissing, his abuelita said, was wrong. He tried hard to date girls, in the most chaste way. Anything past that was against God – and anything at all with a man was unthinkable.
Though it absolutely favors his personal life and dwells on it a bit too much, “Devout” strikes an otherwise nice balance between that, author David Archuleta’s career, his sexuality, and his faith. The latter two are loaded with controversy.
You don’t need to be Mormon to fully understand the faith part; Archuleta offers non-Mormons a brief education, so readers can see the importance of the Church’s teachings in his life and why he felt the need to abandon it as his understanding of his bisexuality grew. It’s emotionally raw and honest, but also so respectful that it almost bears re-reading. Such candor and the heart-on-his-sleeve tone you’ll sense are features in the entire book, alongside Archuleta’s family’s struggles and his learning to strike out alone.
It’s harmonious in more ways than one, and fans will be happy.
So, too, will anyone who wants a unique memoir with a dose of faith, or someone who’s an “American Idol”watcher. Find “Devout” and be sure to share. You won’t mind.
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Books
‘Mighty Real’ explores history of LGBTQ music
From Judas Priest to Whitney, something for every taste
‘Mighty Real: A History of LGBTQ Music, 1969-2000’
By Barry Walters
c.2026, Viking
$35/496 pages
Step, step, tap, back step.
Shimmy in a circle, left hand waving over your head, shake your tail feathers, repeat to the beat. Once there was a time when you could do any dance in your sleep, but it’s been a while. So read “Mighty Real” by Barry Walters, and see if your toes don’t tap.
Fifty-seven years after Stonewall, and here we are: LGBTQ musicians still face scrutiny for their sexuality because, says Walters, music isn’t created for gay listeners. No problem: LGBTQ artists and writers have often penned lyrics carefully in order to say what can’t be said, “coding” songs for gay audiences that straight (and ignorant) listeners can dance to and enjoy with apparent obliviousness.
Walters offers “just a few” examples.
Lou Reed sang about trans people in the late ‘60s and offered a rallying song for the Gay Liberation Front in 1972, the latter of which felt like a message to a then-11-year-old Walters. Janis Joplin claimed she was straight, but she had several girlfriends. Motown singers often offered sometimes-ambiguous lyrics.
John Lennon’s hand placement on the back cover of Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band made Walters begin to understand that he was different from other boys.
David Bowie is on his list, of course, as is Bette Midler, Elton John, Donna Summer, and Queen. You’ll find Judas Priest here, Green Day, and punk music. The Village People are included in this book, also Grace Jones, Duran Duran, and Cher, Whitney, Melissa, Latifah, and the lyrics from several blockbuster movies.
Two of Prince’s band members were lesbians, and they heavily influenced his albums. Diana Ross’s “I’m Coming Out” cemented her position in LGBTQ culture, and Michael Jackson’s inclusion here takes much careful consideration.
Read about Olivia Newton-John and the B52s. And then there’s Sylvester, for whom Walters has a soft spot in his heart. Sylvester’s death still makes Walters cry.
In his preface, author and music writer Barry Walters points out that music is what you make it and that it’s interpreted differently by each individual. To that end, this book naturally consists of preferential history and personal opinions about singers, bands, albums, and songs.
Agree or disagree. That’s where much of the appeal lies in “Mighty Real.”
Here, Walters wraps his memories around his choices, giving readers room for their own views, memories, and list making. Music-loving readers might also be surprised to note who’s not on Walters’ list – there aren’t many country performers here, for example, and the overall list focuses entirely on music from roughly 1968 to the year 2000, mostly on the kinds of songs you’ll want at the club or party. Again, discuss, and curate your own playlist.
This is a hefty book, but the chapters are browse-able and generally short enough to read in under five minutes. It’s nostalgic, yet also serious in the history it presents. This is the kind of book you want to leave near your album collection, or wherever you get your tunes. But finding “Mighty Real” is your first step.
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You’re all geared up.
You’ve got your best parade-walking shoes, your coolest tee, your most-comfortable shorts, and a rainbow flag to carry. You’re set for Pride, but before you go, try one of these great new books about LGBTQ life and history.
After the parade, where will you end up? A place to talk your experience over, to re-hash things for the next parade? Then you may need “The Lesbian Bar Chronicles: The Living History and Hopeful Future of America’s Dyke Dives and Sapphic Spaces” by Rachel Karp (Beacon Press, $29.95).
Lesbian bars, says Karp, are more than just places to drink. They’re also places to find community, and to organize. For many, she says, they are “sanctuaries,” as they have been for at least a century, and this book introduces you to some of the people who run the establishments, the things they do to support their patrons, and the 100-year-plus bravery that it took to own, run, and enter a lesbian bar.
If you had to name a gay icon, there are probably quite a few who come to mind. So read “Without Prejudice: My Life as a Gay Judge” by Harvey Brownstone (ECW Press, $21.95) and add another name to your list.
This memoir, written by Canada’s first openly gay judge, takes readers from Brownstone’s childhood to his life as a lawyer, then to his work within the justice system in Ontario, and beyond, to his current career. This is a surprising, informative book that gives you an idea what gay life is like, north of our uppermost borders, then and now.
Pride is a celebration, an event, but it also demands a peek backwards, and in “The LGBTQ Almanac: 500 Years of Queer Culture in American History” by Deborah G. Felder (Visible Ink Press, $39.95), you’ll get a wide look at the pioneers, allies, policy, and gay life over the course of the last five centuries. Want to know more about religion in the gay community? It’s in here, along with celebrities, presidents, science, business, and more. This is the kind of book that settles bets. It’s one you want to have in any room of your home because it’s comprehensive and perfectly browse-able for all of its 600-plus pages.
And finally, here’s a book to read and think about: “No Fats No Fems: A Guide to Queer Empathy and Unpacking Prejudice” by Max Hovey (HarperOne, $19.99). How do you eliminate hateful, hurtful words, aimed at gay people – by gay people? What kind of stereotypes do we carry, unintentionally? This book takes those things out into the daylight by talking honestly and thoughtfully about them, as well as other issues. It’s a book to have when doubts creep in, when you need a new way of thinking or a different direction, or when you just want something different to read.
And if these great books aren’t enough, head to your favorite bookstore or library and ask for books that you can read before Pride or after. And happy Pride!
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