Queering the American Dream by Angela Yarber, Book Review by Janet Maika’i Rudolph

I love stories about journeys or pilgrimages. They are quests that take us out into the world even as we are forced to face our innermost selves. They are sure to be filled with adventure, challenges, and unexpected beauty. Such a journey has the ability to rip apart our world and reform it in new and unexpected ways. Like I said an adventure. Each journey not only affects us personally but changes corners of the world and all the people that it touches.  Angela Yarber’s book is one such journey. Reading it changed my world.

Rev Ang traveled with what she calls her “queer little family;” herself, her wife Elizabeth and their toddler son Ru. They set off into the country where they could not take for granted they would be accepted. They knew they might be seen as other and have to face down hatred. It is a vulnerable place to be, and it can be frightening, especially in the backcountry where being queer can be seen as an invitation for violence. That takes even an extra level of courage.

Rev Ang speaks with an honesty that is remarkable.

She excites us, inspires us, challenges us, and asks us to pay attention to our own lives and the choices we make. She also breaks our hearts. There are moments of pure bliss, moments of frustration, moments of dealing with bodily needs that are none too pleasant, moments of love. This story is also a love letter to her brother Carl who tragically died in 2017 from an overdose.

Let’s begin with the title. What does Queering mean? Rev. Ang notes how she uses “queer as an umbrella term for the LBGTQIA+ community . . .” Second she draws from the academics of queer theory “which seeks to dismantle hierarchical binaries such as male/female, gay/straight, man/woman by exploring the interstitial spaces between binaries.” Third comes from a dictionary definition of to “intentionally transgress or subvert.”  

As she continues to write, “Queer is both something you can be and something you can do. To queer something – the American dream, perhaps – is to subvert it, turn it on its head, question and dismantle it.” (18) Amen to that!

She goes onto to tell tales of their journey using those definitions as a context, “My queer little family muddled our way around the country, experiencing grief, joy, fear, longing, love, and the impacts of addiction. Fifteen revolutionary women icons squeezed into a green plastic bin were our faithful travel companions Together, we pilgrimaged a country whose landscape caused our jaws to routinely drop in wonder, yet whose policies routinely failed us. And we found that the people of this country are somewhere in between, causing our wandering hearts to oscillate between wondrous beauty and sheer heart break.” (19)

Their 18-month journey mostly involved traveling to various national forests in their camper. At many of the stops, they arranged to be hosts at the campgrounds. Hosts camp for free while providing services to other campers such as greeting visitors, directing them to their camp site, as well as such work as cleaning the pit toilets and providing supplies as needed. She has many amusing anecdotes about that work. But there are also stories that chill, with their potential for hate and the pain involved for being invisible as to who they are as people. As she puts it, “With every visitor who arrives, our gaydars are set to sound alarms if someone seems like a potential threat.” (65)

One visitor, whom Rev Ang calls “the pink bedazzler” referring to her clothing, had this conversation with them.

“And who is this cutie pie?”

“This is my child, Ru.”

Confused she points at Elizabeth and places her hands on her hips, “And who might this be, then?”

“Oh this is Elizabeth, my,” and just as I am about to say “wife,” the pink bedazzler interrupts me with the enthusiasm of a good Southern, “Bless your heart,” she says. “How sweeeeet! She’s helping you watch your baby while your husbands are deployed in the military.”

These are the kind of interactions one has in a world of hereonomormativity (66) and where anyone who is other is recognized in the fullness of their selves. These types of interactions go along with microaggressions and sometimes downright hostility to make the world an exhausting place to navigate.

“Queer bodies are attached, legislated, violated, killed and still preachers and politicians purport that our lives and loves and bodies are abominations unworthy of acceptance, celebration, worth.” (125)

One of the treats of reading this book is that Rev Ang is both an artist and writer, skills she uses to great effect in weaving her story. Anyone reading her book is also treated to a feast of women’s stories of those whom she calls “subversive sister saints.” Some are mythic and others are leaders for civil rights. She weaves them all into her own story. In this manner, we learn about Sarasvati, Guanyin, Our Lady of Guadalupe, Lilith, Sophia along with Audre Lorde, Gloria Anzalua, Freya Stark, to name a few. As she tells it, “Each of these revolutionary women embodies a particular virtue that emboldened my travels, giving me strength and comfort in the wake of my brother’s death.”  (16) Through Rev Ang, they become important in our lives too. 

She uses the green plastic bucket that she describes in the quote above to carry along her artistic renderings of those who inspired her. In keeping with her theme, she discusses and writes poetry to the women icons that she discusses. My only frustration with the book was that there were no images to go along with these discussions. But lucky for us, we live in a time of the internet where Angela’s lush, flowing, beautiful images can be seen.

This book covers culture, laws, mythology, social justice all woven into a personal journey story that is an excellent read. I didn’t want it to end.

I finish with Rev Ang’s own words (132): “We deserve revolutionary care, subversive sister saints. And seeking it out is not selfish. It is necessary. When Audre Lorde holding our tired hands, Guanyin places us in the center of the lotus flower. Rising out of the mud of suffering, we blossom with the lotus, rooted in radical care for self and others. This, I believe, has the power to queer the American dream.”

I highly recommend this book.  You can buy it here.