A Queer Kentucky Safe Space: Trouble Bar | Queer Kentucky

Queer Kentucky has partnered with Louisville Magazine for our fourth print issue. We asked Louisvillians and Kentuckians at large about their queerness and its relationship to the city, where they feel at home, who was there for them when it felt like nobody else was, the biggest issues facing Louisville’s queer communities, and much more. We would love it if you — whether you live in Louisville or not — would answer the questions too. If you’d like to, you can find the interview here. In this issue, you will find stories of Queer Kentuckians telling tales of their beloved safe spaces, paying tribute to the loved ones who uplifted them when no one else would, laughing about their coming out stories, and so much more. Kentucky, and Louisville, have a lot of work left to do when it comes to embracing the queer community. But hey, it’s not as bad as people think it is. Read on, you’ll see. You can purchase the print version of this issue here.

Trouble Bar is one of Queer Kentucky’s long-standing partners. They have been home to many Queer Kentucky events and drag shows. They are also now one of our HIV self-testing kit partners.

Alisha Crescent Hill, she/they

photo by Jon Cherry for Queer Kentucky

Besides your own house — or the house of family or friends — what Louisville place makes you feel at home?

At Trouble Bar and Play, I don’t feel like an outsider when I’m there. Retail establishments that make me feel comfortable and safe: Cry Baby General Store on South Shelby Street and Surface Noise and Grady Goods on Baxter Avenue.All slightly off-kilter — in a good way. I also feel really comfortable at the Crescent Hill Library. It’s a beautiful and peaceful judgment-free zone. I really treasure it.

What’s the biggest issue facing Louisville’s LGBTQ+ communities? What do you think would help solve that issue?

The community seems fractured, and that prevents the power for social change that comes with unity. Many of the gathering spaces and activities revolve around drinking, which is problematic and exclusionary. There are all sorts of queer folx, but not a lot of ways for us to mingle and support one another. For instance, I find it difficult to engage in local queer culture as much as I would like because I have a young kid. I wish we could support each other more like a family than a bunch of drunk acquaintances. Also, the epidemic of homeless queer youth. It’s heartbreaking that there is not a better mechanism for the elders of the community to uplift and support these kids.

Anything about how you identify that you’d like to share?

I am genderqueer and demi-ace. The ace part comes with a lot of complicated emotions, to say the least.