feöruary fi. Iâ9fi » just out 17
M aria C ouncil
all it a match made in heaven.
“I love helping people and I
love to perform,” says Maria
Council, 33, the 1994
empress of the Imperial
Sovereign Rose Court, which
has raised thousands of dollars
and donated countless hours
to numerous charitable causes, including
Esther’s Pantry, Cascade AIDS Project and Our
House of Portland.
Come within a mile of this shining woman,
who was the Rose Court’s first female empress,
and you’re guaranteed to catch her vibrant
vibes.
“[The Rose Court) raised $28,000 for chari­
ties last year. All I had to do was put on a wig,
pop on some jewelry, and get up on stage and lip
sync. Isn’t that incredible?” says Council, who
seems genuinely stunned that so much good
Rose Empress XXXVI Maria
can arise from so much fun.
“What can be better than that?” says the
self-described gay woman, who lives in
Northeast Portland with her partner, Gina
Valdez. By day. Council can be found behind a
desk handling records management for the law
firm Stoel Rives; come the weekend, however,
you’re bound to spot her on stage at the Embers
doing what comes naturally. Or she may be vis­
iting other West Coast courts to help bolster
their fund-raising events.
Oh yes, that’s Council you glimpsed emcee­
ing Pride, and of course, besting Peacock in the
Park, that fantastical variety show in
Washington Park designed to raise money for
the Audria M. Edwards Scholarship Fund,
which provides educational scholarships to
queer youth and families.
l
Given her embracing ways, it’s not surpris­
ing that Council has a wide variety of friends—
gay, straight, queer, older, younger, men,
women.
“It’s not so important for me to have black
friends. It’s important for me to have friends,”
she says.
Nonetheless, Council admits there are chal­
lenges to being an African American gay
woman (involved in the drag community, no
less) in Portland, Ore.
“I grew up in the Bay Area. In my neighbor­
hood there were all sorts of people—gay,
Chinese, Japanese, old, white, black. Everybody
knew everybody and respected each other,” she
says.
In 1979, however, Council’s father got a job
transfer which landed the family in Oregon.
“Can you say culture shock?” she asks
Rhetorically.
But Council is clearly accustomed to ven­
turing into the unknown, as well as following
her heart—which has sometimes made her the
target of criticism.
“I’ve been told, ‘You’re just a white girl in
LOCAL(OLOR
To celebrate Black History Month we talk with six vibrant Portlanders
who are building bridges across multiple cultural gaps
S tory
by I nga
S orensen • photos by L inda K liewer
dark skin,’ or ‘You think you’re a drag queen,’ ”
she says. “Well, you know what, I know I’m a
woman, but 1 happen to like to dress up and do
shows. It’s who I am.”
T erry D urst
eaching out has become, well, a way of life
for Terry Durst.
While living in Seattle a few years back,
Durst, who is gay, worked with the People of
Color Against AIDS Network, handling what
------ —could be viewed as
not the easiest of
assignments.
“I directed the
African American
church
compo­
nent,” says Durst in
his soothing but
steadfast tones.
That meant, he
explains, “’ising the
church as a mecha­
nism” to help edu­
cate and prevent
the spread of HIV.
“Luckily there
were two large
African American
churches on board
that at least wanted
to discuss the issue,” says Durst, now in his 30s.
“It was still challenging though.”
“I think some people heard us,” he adds. “1
truly believe the African American community
gets a bad rap what it comes to its views about
homosexuality. There’s this myth that the
African American piMBaaBraHBBBMaBi
community is more
homophobic than
others.”
These
days
Durst is the direc­
tor of community
health programs for
the Urban League
of Portland, work­
ing on HIV/AIDS,
cervical and breast
cancer, infant mor­
I tality and other
issues. The work is
vital to building
and maintaining
healthy individu­
als, as well as a
healthy communi­
ty.
He also serves
on the board of the
Seattle-based Pride
Foundation, which
doles out thou­
sands of dollars
each year to orga­
nizations that are
dedicated to creat­ Terry Durst
ing and sustaining
a strong queer community.
On a more personal level. Durst, who has
lived in Denver, New York and Philadelphia
(among other places), admits it can be a strug­
gle being an African American in Portland.
“Lack of diversity is a big challenge for me,”
R
he says. “Maybe that’s because of the work I do.
I’m politicized and go to a lot of meetings or
events where I am frequently the only black
person in the room.”
When that happens, he says, he often
becomes (or is expected to become) the
spokesperson on All Issues Race-Related.
“Sometimes I don’t mind, but some­
times you just want to rest,” he says,
adding it’s great when others commit
themselves to learning for themselves.
Durst cites a new group sponsored by
Cascade AIDS Project that is designed to
encourage (primarily) gay and bisexual
white men to seriously consider race.
“I believe a lot of people out here
don’t think about it. It just isn’t a part of
their realities,” he says. “So it’s good to see
people wanting to make an effort.”
sat down and explored the pros and cons of his
doing that,” Fox continues. “We talked about
other ways he might be able to express his sex­
uality and still get an education. We didn’t tell
him what he should or shouldn’t do. What we
did do was take the time to really think about
it.”
Working with Rainbow has been a blessing
for Fox, who says living in a state with so few
African Americans is tough.
“It’s important for me to seek out and find
other African Americans,” she says. “It’s like
I’m the fish and my community is the water 1
need to survive.”
Like some of the youth she connects with,
Fox struggled with issues around race and sexu­
D ionne F ox
ionne Fox is nurturing the makings
of a bright future—not solely for
herself, but for the community around
D
her.
“I get so much from these young peo­
ple—so much more than I give,” says the
25-year-old Colorado native, who joined
the Urban League of Portland’s staff as a
program specialist a year ago.
Her forte? Facilitating the organiza­
tion’s queer youth group, Rainbow, a
social and support outlet open to young
people of any background. According to
Fox, 60 percent of the group’s current 27 Dionne Fox
participants are youth of color.
ality.
“I always thought of the Urban League as a
“Growing up, I couldn’t identify as gay
place that assisted
because I thought only white women were les­
minorities and low-
bians,” she recounts. The fact that she hailed
income people, great
from a very religious family didn’t make matters
work like that. I
easier.
never viewed it as a
“But as I got older I began to see so much of
place that addressed
the hypocrisy in organized religion,” Fox says.
issues like homosex­
Meanwhile in college, with a little distance
uality,” says Fox,
between her and her family—they lived in
who believes this is
Denver, while she attended school in
the only chapter of
Boulder—Fox came out as a lesbian.
the nationwide orga-
“Let’s say everything came together late in
nization to have
my freshman year,” she laughs.
sponsored a queer
And these days, Fox is providing a role
youth group.
model for young African American lesbians
“Rainbow is a
and
other queer youth of color—a model she
family, and it is
lacked as a youngster.
exactly
as
it
“I can’t begin to explain how wonderful that
sounds—a rainbow
makes me feel,” she says.
of colors,” she says.
And like in some
families, its members
C liff J ones
discuss tough, real-
life issues, from dat­
ultiple oppression offers multiple percep­
ing to abuse to
tion.
racism to isolation to
It is an adage Cliff Jones embraces.
acceptance.
“1 think oftentimes people facing multiple
“We also deal
oppression get more information about the
with life skills, career
scope of oppression and have a deeper under
and
educational
standing about how people are stereotyped,”
says Jones, 42, a senior associate with Technical
goal-setting,
and
decision
making.
Assistance for Community Services. The
Portland-based nonprofit provides develop­
They’re young, and like so many youth, when
they want to do something they want to do it
ment and support to other nonprofit, commu­
nity-based organizations.
now. I try to get them to think about the con­
As a gay African American Oregonian,
sequences of their decisions," she explains.
“For example, there was a young man who
Continued an page 19
was detennined to wear a dress to school. We all
M