I currently work at the DC LGBTQ+ Community Center, a community space for queer folks. They provide food, community events, basic needs, and generally, a space for people to exist. People who come in are encouraged to think of the space as a sort of “second living room.” I am technically the social media intern, but I perform other day–to-day operations tasks as well to help keep the center running smoothly, such as logging visitors, taking inventory, and helping out community members with their non-social-media needs.
The location of the center is a little discreet. You had to know what you were looking for to find it. It was located off the main road on a sidestreet that resembled an alleyway, all brick and shadow and glass. From outside, it doesn’t look like much, but during my time here, I have learned that the space and its importance in this little corner of town, means so much more than I could have ever imagined. Every day I meet people from all walks of life, some fleeting, and some who I see every week, if not everyday. Slowly, as the sticky humidity of summer made way for crisp, sleek autumn, I began to learn their stories and I began to understand the rhythm of the city.
It is an understatement to say that I am homesick. My drum still undoubtedly pounds to the beat of the San Francisco Bay Area, but interning at the DC LGBTQ+ Center has shown me that though this place might not be home for me, it is for others. It was simple, a truth that sounds obvious enough when you say it point blank, but one that took time for me to actually realize as truth. Someone here feels the humidity cling to their skin and feels comforted by the city’s embrace. Someone here listens to the streets come alive with sound at night and hears a lullaby. For the people I work with, the city is alive. The city knows them, and they know the city, and it is beautiful to witness.