The Radical Faeries

Sex, Drugs, Spirit and Ritual

Today is a special day. On The Radical Faeries and Beltane celebrations.

Photo by Dan Nicoletta, undisclosed location

This May 1st, “Faes” across the globe will gather to sing, dance, and wrap ribbons around a Maypole, in a Queer iteration of the Pagan ritual.

The Radical Faeries are a counterculture movement founded in the 1960s and 70s. They were Queer hippies responding to the homogenization and toxic masculinity of mainstream Gay culture. The 70s “clone look” of a white tank top and jeans, which focused solely on sex and the body, was met with dresses, tie-dye and spiritual teachings which combined Native American rituals and Eastern medicine. The Gays who wanted to be “just like everyone else” and yearned for assimilation were met with a Queer movement which was staunchly anti-war, anti-assimilation, pro-drug, pro-polyamory, and before we had common words for it, transgender and nonbinary.

And when age, capitalism, and ineptitude decimated so many heterosexual counterculture communities from the Summer of Love, the Radical Faeries remained, building communes which are still in operation today. There are fae sanctuaries, communes, and houses all over the world in a loose network.

I went to my first Beltane at a Radical Faerie sanctuary when I was 25, and I visited every year faithfully for a decade. It was a rustic commune deep in a Southern forest. There were 600 faeries, ranging from 18 to 80 years old, and for an entire week, all we did was dance, fuck, eat, fuck, take psychedelics, dance some more, all culminating in the Maypole ritual.

At the Beltane gathering, a giant pole is erected in the middle of the sanctuary, and an intricate ritual is performed as ribbons are tied around it. Imagine the coordination it takes for hundreds of people to tie ribbons around a tree. For many years, I considered this my true new year celebration.

I have fallen in love, gotten higher than I’ve ever been, and darker than I ever care to go again. I’ve witnessed chosen family be their best selves, battle demons and lose. I’ve felt the adoration of my feminine and Queer divine and watched the politics, privilege, and racism of the commune system consume the most beautiful of moments. Even Queer Heaven has a shadow.

photo by Joshua Smith, 2006

Ten years ago, I lost one of my guides to suicide. He was buried in the land. I haven’t been able to return since. I told myself that it was because my schedule never worked out. But the truth is, I was too afraid it wouldn’t be like it was when I was younger, that the nostalgia and grief would be too unbearable. But what makes that gathering and slice of land so powerful is how it has survived eras. I’ll return when I’m ready to feel that small and tender again.

So every year on this day, I remember the different lives I’ve hummed, with a ribbon in my hand, singing, “We are the flow, we are the ebb, we are the weavers, we are the web.”

---

A small Beltane celebration in San Francisco, 2019

---

Discount code for 50% off. Uncensored content, early and exclusive articles.