ABSTRACT
MY F I R S T G R A S P O F queer came, ironically enough, through its conspicuous absence, the missing Q in the name of the Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender Historical Society of San Francisco (GLBTHS), the organization where I made my professional entrée to the world of museums. That unwieldy, please-everyone/please-no-one mouthful of letters encapsulates the history of many quarrelsome communities, often allied by very little other than the perceived “otherness” of their sexual desire. Between all their infi ghting and counter-recriminations about the body lies the nobody’s land of queer .
