I’ve lived in Northside for over eight years now. No, it’s not quite yet the preeminent gay neighborhood it would like to be (and strives for), but it’s just about as close as you can get to it in the Queen City. When I first moved into ‘da hood (I rented and eventually bought the house in which I now live) my mother had a panic attack; she simply couldn’t understand why her youngest child was moving into such a “rough neighborhood.” Now, in my mother’s house the words “rough” and “black” are synonymous (and though my mother would never freely admit this, it IS implied). My mother is emphatically not racist, but she is sheltered. I could say she doesn’t understand because all she’s ever known is the comfortable suburban life, but this is untrue; my mother spent many years living on Riddle Road in Clifton, so she’s familiar with the environment. I think now that she’s so entrenched on the west wide, she simply can’t understand why anyone would want to live some place else. I, personally, have a hard time visiting anyone in the suburbs these days. Don’t get me wrong, I had a wonderful childhood and have lots of fond memories of that white picket fence atmosphere; but, like high school, I’m glad it’s over. Been there, done that, want to experience something else now. My brother moved his family to Mason because he, too, felt that the “rough” (read: black) element was beginning to pervade area schools, and he wanted his daughters to experience something else also. My visits to Mason are, thankfully, few and far in between. There’s something very Stepford Wives about the whole, thing; it’s too sterile, too clean. And I swear I’ve never seen one black person in Mason; I think there’s a written law on the books up there.

I took the house in Northside because it’s a great house, with just enough room for me and the dogs to breathe. I’ve considered renting out the upstairs room, but I simply can’t bring myself to do it. I like my privacy and independence; besides, that room is reserved for friends who come visit (and eventually, if the fates allow, a husband who needs a place to sleep when I’ve kicked him out of bed for forgetting to dvr last night’s episode of ‘Project Runway’).

It’s taken me eight years to get the house the way I want it, more or less (though the backyard is still an unpleasant mixture of weeds and dirt…I have the decorating gene but, sadly, not a green thumb). And in those eight years I’ve come to really love the neighborhood; I bought the house because of the house, not the ‘hood. But now I realize, that unless I move over the viaduct to the Clifton Gaslight area, there isn’t anywhere else I’d rather be than Northside; I think Northside is the “poor man’s Clifton,” with some of the same benefits (and drawbacks) but on a more affordable scale. We have great restaurants, great shops, and some nice bars and clubs; the only thing we don’t have is a movie theatre (but as long as the Esquire stays in business I won’t complain).

As for the gay and lesbian crowd in Northside, it’s fairly pervasive and friendly. And though it’s unlikely that it will ever equal Boys Town in Chicago or West Hollywood in Los Angeles (hey, a guy can dream), I for one am glad that at least there’s a strong GLBT “presence” in Northside. And it’s certainly nice to have the gay pride festival right around the corner each year. That’s something you don’t see in the suburbs (I think that’s also written into the books).

I moved to Northside because of the house; I’ve stayed because of the people. There are still some picket fences in Northside, but they’re no longer white. They’re rainbow. I’ll take that over a trip to Stepford-ville any day.

Out in ‘Da Hood,

Darren M.