Newspaper Page Text
SOUTHERN
MB
I H TAKING PRIDE IN OUR CULTURE
SEPT 29 - OCT 5 / 1994
Christian
Coalition
vows huge
turnout in
November
elections
PAGE 10
NEWS -
Schaefer gets Georgia Patrol
protection, thanks to activist’s
• threats mi 3
PWA's death leads Corrections
Dept, to mahe changes PAGE 3
Biloxi, Miss., holds first-ever
Pride march and rally PAGE 4
Stonewall 25 and Gay Games still
mired in debt PAGES 7 RIG
U.N. suspends international gay
group pagi is
HEALTH
Protesters demand women's
inclusion in clinical trials PAGE ff
OUT & ABOUT
TONY KUSHNER
The author of "Angels in America"
is everybody's favorite
playwright this year PAGE 25
Two excellent CD's offer money
and hope for AIDS fight page 2*
V01UME 7/NUMBER 3? PIEASE RECYClf 75C WHERE SQID
Camp Sister Spirit, a lesbian
feminist retreat in rural
Mississippi, made big headlines
this year when local religious
leaders tried to drive the women
from their land. SoVo staff writer
KC Wildmoon decided to go and
see for herself what all the fuss
was about, and bow founders
Wanda and &renda Henson were
holding up under.the pressure.
by KC WILDMOON
Rural lesbians and gay men usually live their
lives in hushed fear, careful not to call attention to
themselves. Careful they are not singled out as
“different.” Careful they blend in enough with the
local folk to avoid raised eyebrows and potentially
harmful gossip. And if that doesn’t work, gay men
and lesbians usually leave for more tolerant
grounds.
Perhaps the people of Ovett believed that would
happen when they objected to Camp Sister Spirit,
a feminist educational retreat planned for a se
cluded 120-acre hog farm. They most certainly
didn’t count on Wanda and Brenda Henson’s te
nacity, or their almost defiant drive to build that
retreat.
It's a long drive across the western end of
Georgia, all of Alabama and down the eastern
portion of Mississippi to Jones County. The rolling
hills and long stretches of national forest land
afford more time than necessary to think—to an
ticipate my arrival in a place known to be hostile
to people like me. Midway across Alabama, I am
desperately looking for some signs of gay life—a
bumper sticker, a flag, something, anything. There
are none. Not one. Just my own lowly pink tri
angle. When I pull off the interstate in Hattiesburg
and begin the last leg of the journey, an old man in
a beat-up pickup truck gives me the traditional
Southern backroad wave as we pass. I wave back,
and suddenly there's the lavender gate of Camp
Sister Spirit. And rainbow flags.
Rainbow windsocks dot the trees along the drive
to the center of the camp. At the top of the hill,
signs of activity are everywhere. A pile of scrap
wood and brush are ready for a bonfire; sounds of
hammering and sawing echo, interspersed by voices
asking questions and calling out for instructions. A
smiling Brenda Henson comes out of a travel trailer.
“This is the hotbed of lesbian activism,” she
says, sweeping an arm around her. She points out
the construction activity going on behind the trailer.
“That’s our houselike structure,” she says. “We’re
working on it.”
The "houselike structure" is a glorified deer
stand. This is hunters' paradise, I suppose. Land
that lay vacant for years, adopted by the locals for
their own private hunting grounds. The structure is
going to be a home for the Hensons. Right now
they’re putting up insulation. They’ve already got
the tub and toilet in, but they need a plumber to
hook everything up properly—and an electrician.
They've already done amazing work turning a bam
into the camp’s heart—a conununity room, office,
kitchen, pantry and bunk house upstairs. Next to it
is a bath house, with another rainbow flag gracing
the door. A tool shed and tractor/golf cart shed are
on the other side—the golf carts are nained Thelma
and Louise. This is not what I expected. For one
thing, there are men here.
Camp Sister Spirit was going to be a woman-
only space. But when the troubles began last fall, it
was men who called, asking what they could do to
help.
“We hadn’t intended to do it,” Brenda Henson
said. “But the men have really come through.”
“I was probably the most adamant against the
men,” said Cheri Michael, who was the first care
taker, after the Hensons, to arrive at the camp.
“But I’ve really had to change my perspective on
CONTINUED ON PAGE 17