“We are not makers of history. We are made by history.” While just one of Martin Luther King Jr.’s many long-lasting, rhetorically beautiful, and breathtakingly insightful quotes, it stands as a constant reminder to each of us: We do not know who we are or where we are heading, as a country or as a people, if we do not know our own history.

For those who haven’t read much in the way of history since their sophomore year Social Studies class, the prospect of adequately finding answers to these questions is likely overwhelming and intimidating. But to those readers who find themselves amongst those ranks, fear not, because the first step in rectifying that situation is most definitely found. There is likely no better place to start than in reading the history of a movement that defined itself by its ability to self-reflect with honesty, and in the face of repression no less.

A Queer History of the United States (QHotUS) is the first in a series of books titled the ReVisioning Series, which are each “written… by notable scholars that reconstruct and reinterpret US history from diverse perspectives.” Harvard professor Michael Bronski wrote this, the inaugural book of the series, which pieces together the rich tapestry of LGBTQ history to help the public “Re-Vision” the past. The series also includes books on people with disabilities, indigenous people, African Americans, and others.

The book spans from 1492 to 1990, wisely investigating “America” and its varying attitudes on sex from its earliest outset, rather than according the technical and legal argument of when the United States as a nation was established. At each step, Bronski establishes the fact that an awful cycle has been repeated time and time again--in which the LGBTQ community makes inroads to living with the full blessings of life, liberty, and happiness, only to be repressed by religious conservative moralists (though the latter’s proportion of American society would decrease in influence, if not in voice).

Whether the idyllic commune of Merrymount being ransacked by Puritans under Governor Winthrop, or Mae West being arrested after performances of her plays, or the firing of hundreds of hardworking State Department employees for “alleged homosexuality,” the reader is confronted with the reality that, as the LGBTQ community has tried to assert its rights, its existence, and its pride, forces have inevitably arrived to oppose it. One of the most heartbreaking reversals on LGBTQ rights were the successful campaigns during the late 1970s to establish anti-discrimination protections, only to have conservative opposition whip the public into a frenzy and later repeal them.

But beyond the book’s admirable ability to place Americans on a solid footing in understanding the forces that forged the LGBTQ movement into what it is today, QHotUS accomplishes another vital objective. It establishes incontrovertibly that the queer community was not, and is not, a passive recipient of repression. Rather, the book squarely casts the community as an active force for opposing oppression, a force for good that is always seeking to protect itself and its right to peacefully exist. While Bronski documents multiple occasions of physical resistance against violence beyond the Stonewall uprising, of perhaps even more interest are the ways in which the community came together and pursued solutions to seemingly intractable economic and emotional upheaval.

Poignant examples of these are seeded throughout. After the mainstream shut LGBTQ members out from employment after World War II, the community banded together to start their own thriving independent businesses, as well as support & social groups (such as the Knights of the Clock) that helped provide job counseling to and find housing for same-sex couples. During the 80’s, emotional support groups were established where young queer people could express their fears, their feelings, and their doubts--especially in light of the backlash from Anita Bryant and the religious right, as well as the misinformed & misguided retaliation against the community due to the HIV/AIDS epidemic.

However, from the perspective of an allied civil servant, the final reflection on the achievements of QHotUS is that the book provides conclusive, indisputable evidence that the nation owes the queer community its gratitude for having helped build the United States into a worthwhile place of increasing cultural and sexual tolerance. LGBTQ influence in public policy and politics, art, cinema, television, and literature is so thoroughly documented, the reader can’t help but reflect on the inadequacy of credit given. As Harvey Milk, the first openly gay elected official in California, once wisely observed, “freedom is too enormous to be slipped under a closet door.”

Perhaps no greater oversight in credit to the queer community can be found than in the estimated 650,000 - 1 million gay & lesbian service members that fought during WW2. Despite their sacrifices, thousands were shamelessly “Section 8” discharged simply for being who they were--a black mark on their record in perpetuity. That there is no national monument to the sacrifices these service members made during the war and after, all in the name of serving their country, is a tragedy that can hopefully be someday remedied.

The book is a 5/5 for sharing vital history that has gone untold for far too long, and as a lasting testament to the resilience, success, and continuing struggle of the LGBTQ community.

You can order the book in paperback or e-book on Amazon and can find the audiobook on Audible.

Ethan Dazelle is a Policy & Law Advisor at the U.S. Department of Labor. When he is not writing book reviews for PMAA, Ethan is researching and writing on human rights, international law, & just about anything else that piques his interest. Be sure to check out Ethan’s other PMAA posts!

A Queer History of the United States: An Allied Civil Servant Review