Books like Transnational LGBT Activism — picked by fans

Are any of the books I’ve selected International Studies texts? Let’s debate that later! This one was published in a Feminist Media Studies list. 

This book illuminates and humanizes the connections between activists working for LGBTQ rights and activists working for immigrant rights. Chávez foregrounds insights from women of color. It was one of the first academic books I read during my doctoral work that helped me understand how to bridge movement insights with political theory while staying committed to the activists I write about.

Chávez takes care in her work, always taking the continuing urgency of the coalitional queer and migrant politics seriously.

While I was getting my PhD at the University of Massachusetts – Boston, Chávez came to our campus and gave a talk. I was inspired by how connected her work is to the movements she writes about, and I aim to do the same.

What a gift of a book.

This book is a foundational text in Black women’s studies and includes the statement by the Black lesbian feminist Combahee River Collective, which just celebrated 50 years. In the statement, they write, "We believe that sexual politics under patriarchy is as pervasive in Black women's lives as are the politics of class and race."

I appreciate the book because it shows the rich history of Black women’s writing and movement building, including the important role of Black lesbian feminist sisterhood. It was so exciting to read the letter written by Lorraine Hansberry to the lesbian periodical The Ladder in 1957, in which she links homophobia to the sexual oppression experienced by all women. I can’t help but scribble in the margins: see, lesbians have always been here! 

Although queer organizing is so often presented as something that is new or emerging, this book challenges… show more.

This book, perhaps the most straightforwardly peace and conflict book on my list, looks at the global queer Palestinian solidarity movement.

Atshan writes, "if we pay close attention to them, it becomes clear that the activists sustaining the queer Palestinian movement along with other queer Palestinians attempting to lead their everyday lives have been engaged in compelling epistemological work to make sense of their experiences and to communicate those insights to one another and to the world."

I value this book because it considers the complexity of how queer Palestinian activists engage in boycotts and education campaigns about sexuality while also confronting campaigns of Pinkwashing from Israel. Atshan shows how queer Palestinians are refusing Zionism on their own terms, in the face of empire.

Although this is often overlooked, activists can also be perpetrators of violence and engage in racist and queerphobic behavior.  

The book highlights transformative and restorative justice approaches to community accountability, drawing on examples from reproductive justice, sex work alliances, and disability justice. The approaches to community accountability are queer and trans-led and prioritize people of color as experts in defining safety and security.

There is so much I learned from this book, including how to offer grounded resources through accessible writing. I appreciate how the book shows that community accountability is possible, and that we must always look within our own communities to understand the harm we are personally responsible for first, before being able to support anyone else.

I don’t know about you, but I didn’t grow up learning LGBTQ+ history. Everything I’ve discovered, I’ve learned on my own as an adult. It’s time for that to change. This book can help kid readers (and adults) learn that LGBTQ+ history is part of American and world history. Our stories aren’t controversial, but not teaching history sure is. This book will give you an introduction to the LGBTQ community’s heart—our history.

Cervini’s biography of Frank Kameny shows that gay militancy began years before the iconic riots at the Stonewall Inn. In 1965, Kameny led pickets for gay civil rights in front of the White House and the State Department. He was soon teaching people who lost their jobs because they were “homosexual” how to fight and win in the courts. Understanding that as long as homosexuals were considered sick, gay people would never be granted civil rights, Kameny organized the first protests against the American Psychiatric Association that led to the declassification of “homosexuality” as a mental disorder. Cervini situates Frank Kameny in his rightful place as the father of America’s first militant gay movement. 

Interest in the German sexologist Magnus Hirschfeld and his Institute for Sexual Science (active 1919–1933 in Berlin) has grown since the television program Transparent included him in its second season in 2015.

Laurie Marhoefer’s new book challenges his status as a queer history hero, highlighting how his views on sexual emancipation, cross-dressing (as drag was then known), and transgenderism were embedded in racism and colonialism. Marhoefer also tells the lesser-known history of Hirschfeld’s companion in later life, Li Shiu Tong, who after Hirschfeld’s death in May 1935 continued his own research on human sexuality. 

Li’s previously unknown manuscript and notes—rescued serendipitously from a waste bin soon after his death in Vancouver in 1993—is a stark reminder of how many histories of sexuality are at risk of being (almost) similarly lost.

This book is a feminist memoir about being in a groundbreaking organization that proclaimed to the world that lesbians exist, refusing to be erased.

They used street theatre to draw attention (the "fire eating" to which the book title refers). The participants faced a lot of litmus testing, such as being targeted as racially offensive for using the phrase "freedom ride" for non-race centric activity; and the author testifies to both misogyny and homophobia in the left in the US, Paris, and Cuba. 

This picture book shares the heartwarming yet tragic story of Harvey Milk in an accessible and playful way, bright colourful illustrations reveal the story of an activist and their mission for equality and his search for a symbol of the LGBTQ+ family. The story of the Rainbow Flag is an essential element of LGBTQ+ history and this is told in a way that doesn’t alienate the reader. The simple quest for equality is at the heart of our quest for acceptance and I believe early exposure to this story – to all – helps plant a seed of understanding in every reader. 

This book taught me about the necessity of doing queer research that not only challenges cisheteronormativity, but also colonialism and coloniality as well.

Rao’s book is a masterclass in transnational and transtemporal storytelling, narrating plural stories of the (post)colonial politics of queerness, gender, and sexuality. I was especially gripped by his chapter tracing the colonial spectres of atonement that underpin the British government’s apologies for anti-sodomy laws, which resonates with a broader homocolonial discourse Western countries have used to denounce former colonised countries as backward and queerphobic. 

Queer IR can and should attend to these imperial histories and afterlives, and how they are underpinned by and uphold particular gendered and sexual norms. This book shows how global politics is a story about (post)coloniality and queerness.