Walking up Seventh Avenue from Christopher Street is unlike walking up any other street in New York City. The mix of every possible size and shape of human being is unimaginable for one not accustomed to the city. Clearly, I had stumbled into onto of America’s most diverse and accepting communities. I notice things I would never see back in the suburbs of New Jersey: lovers walking hand in hand, showing affection regardless of gender, in public, without any fear or shame.
The West Village of Manhattan is well known for its friendliness toward members of the gay, lesbian, bisexual and transsexual community. Walking through this area, it’s very clear that everyone is able to embrace their identity. Possibly the most significant public institution serving this community is the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual & Transgender Community Center of New York City.
I turn left on 13th Street, right before the almost-200-year-old brown brick Church of the Village, which is surrounded by tall residential buildings atop mini shops. On quiet, tree-lined West 13 Street, seated cozily between old brownstones, a three-story red brick building stands out among the residences. There is a large rainbow flag on its exterior.
The Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual & Transgender (LGBT) community center turns 25 this year. It’s been a place of education, enlightenment and uplift for visitors. It’s also one of the only places of its kind for residents who happen to be members of one of New York’s most unusual communities.
First established in 1983, LGBT mainly serves the needs of the gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgendered inhabitants of the city. The center is open to the entire public and has more than 300 member groups. It’s the second largest center of its kind in the world and is also the (self–proclaimed) “nation’s leading and most comprehensive LGBT community center.”
“It provides service to the community,” explains a worker at the front desk. The center offers advocacy, culture, health programs, conferences and a safe environment for many who otherwise might not have a safe and comfortable place to go. It sees more than 6,000 people a week. One of the greatest ways it helps is comforting people, says Andy, a physician’s assistant who visits the center from time to time. People in the closet or who face prejudice from their family or community can feel comfortable.
Each visitor I interview mentions that the center serves as a hangout spot. “I can come, meet up with my friends and chill and hang out,” explains Lady K. With its walls adorned with alternative art, the Manhattan location right in the heart of the West Village is convenient, according to many visitors, and easy to reach from other parts of the city. Its location puts it near all sorts of businesses, from restaurants, cafes and bookstores to gyms and street vendors. Many also feel that the center provides safety. One visitor from Brooklyn feels that it “gives you a feeling of home—you can be yourself.”
One significant service the center provides that directly helps the community is the CARE program. CARE stands for counseling, advocacy, recovering and education. The program includes substance-abuse education; vocational preparation activities and skills development; psychiatric, medical and other wellness services; as well as services for significant others. According to the center’s annual report, the CARE program is staffed by New York state–licensed professionals, including counselors, psychotherapists and psychiatrists.
Government grants provide the majority of the nonprofit organization’s financial support. Contributions are a second source of money.
The center charges for some services but promises not to turn away an individual who can’t afford a service. It also raises funds through pay-per-use public Internet services, book sales and ad space in the center’s magazine and annual report.
The institution helps the community by standing in the forefront of the battle against sexually transmitted diseases, including HIV/AIDS, which are a reality among both NYC’s LGBT and non-LGBT populations. Andy mentions his concern about youth, especially the number of minorities infected with STDs. “Either they don’t know, don’t have the info or don’t care.” I recall the giant container of free condoms near the doorway, accompanied by pamphlets about safer sex, abstinence, gonorrhea, syphilis, HIV and date rape, among other topics.
In addition to the HIV/AIDS/STD problem, the center makes strides to prevent and treat depression and other mental illnesses and alcohol and drug abuse. The center’s 2007–2008 annual report mentions that “the center has taken a leading role in organizing a response to the growing use of methamphetamine in our communities.”
The LGBT center also provides shelter for many homeless residents of the city. If ejected from a homeless shelter for whatever reason, they can find asylum inside the center and make use of the free programs and services offered.
Creating awareness is another role that the center plays in the life of New York City. Having a place where individuals who have something in common can gather and discuss issues, share information and support each other strengthens the community. Andy expresses that young people need role models, and centers like this one allow them to make friends and benefit from support groups. The awareness it provides in New York City is valuable. Lady K says that she would like to see places like this in the South, where she’s originally from, so that “people can learn about themselves without fear and rally for their rights.” Mrs. Mississippi adds, “It’s good that they have a place like this.”
Having such a center in New York City displays the city’s diversity and tolerance. It shows that the city has come a long way compared to other cities.
Mario McCalla is a journalism major at Rutgers-Newark. Posted September 2008.
