Remembering LA

By: Leah Gardner

In 1999, the American Council of the Blind, (ACB), annual conference was in Las Angeles. I was 23 years old and attending my first major blindness convention. Truthfully, I was a cocky young lesbian who knew little about the world on any large-scale level. So many formative experiences that would shape my life were yet to be lived. I was naive and still had not embraced or come to respect my sense of self as a visually impaired woman. I was proud
of my lesbianism, but sometimes loud is not always best.

I was the kid in the room where Blind Friends of Gays and lesbians, (BFLAG), now Blind LGBT Pride International, (BPI(,, was created. People who endured so much more struggle than I ever conceived of took a chance and agreed to push for official affiliate status under the
ACB umbrella. I was fresh from college where I belonged to a Gay Straight Alliance, and my home at that time was Burlington, Vermont, a mecca of progressive thought and politics. Truly, my decision to join the effort to strive for affiliation was based on fierce pride and a sense of invincibility. I think now, that for so many in that room, decisions to be part of this process were
based on realities of discrimination, violence, and isolation that I had no personal inkling of. We were a mix of diverse people from disparate backgrounds, but we all formed a bond that week which served as the foundation BPI relies on today. We were united by the
belief that planting the seeds of an organization embracing all colors of the pride spectrum was imperative.

I cannot speak for anybody else in that room who decided to forge ahead with affiliation plans that day. But I think some of them were maybe a little scared. I am sure there was some anxiety. A few wanted to remain anonymous. I was the kid who had not yet learned to
be afraid of the unavoidable bigotry aimed at those of us who represent that rainbow which stems from ignorance and intolerance. In the past 20 years, I spent 2 weeks in Alabama, afraid to divulge my lesbianism due to the strict conservative climate. I was at rallies where queer poets were taunted and harassed for daring to read on stage.
I’ve lived through an American time frame where politicians seem hungry to dismantle all the gains and strides towards equity that our community has labored to attain for generations. We are living through an unimaginable pandemic that has claimed over 250,000 lives in the United States alone. That kid who was part of BPI’s creation has
grown up.

BPI, however, is also a more mature organization. Several tumultuous times in our past have ultimately made this affiliate stronger and more resilient. In my own life, I have dealt with pain, loss, and isolation over the past 2 decades. I have felt fractured by the process of living at times. And BPI has almost broken due to inner turmoil. But I am still here, and BPI is stronger than I can ever remember. The energy of our members is contagious. Some days, I feel like the old woman in the room who wants to warn, to caution, to discuss the risks of every step we take. But then I remember L.A. That fire to forge change and be seen and heard still crackles like a live wire inside. Electricity tingles through me, and I know I was in the right room at the right time 20 years ago because I still want to be here for BPI’s next 20 years and more.