This Is (Not) a Celebration: Philly’s queer counternarrative to America 250

It turns out, as we look to the past, this polarity is not new. Luckily for us, a coalition of Philadelphia’s queer organizers, artists, and historians are creating a series of programming to offer a respite from the patriotic fanfare and shed light on our local queer history. Through an interconnected web of archival artifacts, literary discussion, and intimate community fundraising, they are drawing a direct, urgent line between the political anxieties of 2026 and the radical resistance of the 1976 Bicentennial.

This Is (Not) a Celebration

The centerpiece of this is a gallery exhibition presented by the William Way LGBT Community Center at Huddle in Northern Liberties: This Is (Not) a Celebration, on view through July 3, 2026.

"There are many exhibitions in Philadelphia reframing the 250th through marginalized perspectives, but many of them still use a celebratory lens to tell their stories," says Jake Foster, exhibitions manager and curator at William Way. "I wanted to make it clear in the title that this exhibition is in direct opposition to the American exceptionalism you'll see at places in our city … like the Museum of the American Revolution."

For Foster, who has curated exhibitions for a decade, This Is (Not) a Celebration: Queer Resistance 1976/2026 marks the first time he has explicitly woven raw archival materials directly into a gallery show. To bridge the 50-year gap, Foster embedded himself in the Center's own John J. Wilcox, Jr. Archives, guided by director John Anderies and a vital new text by award-winning queer historian Marc Stein: Bicentennial: A Revolutionary History of the 1970s.

A historical mirror

Stein’s book serves as a historical mirror for the project, mapping an era enmeshed in striking structural similarities to our current moment. In 1976, the national birthday arrived in the wake of Vietnam and Watergate, sparking a massive public argument between patriots, profiteers, and radical counter-Bicentennial protesters.

Foster’s archival digging unearthed records of how Philadelphia’s queer community fought for survival during that last major milestone. Among the artifacts on display are flyers from Dyketactics!, a lesbian feminist activist group. On December 4, 1975, members of the group staged a sit-in at City Hall in support of an early non-discrimination bill and were violently kicked down the stone steps by Mayor Frank Rizzo’s police. By 1976, they were suing the city for police brutality, throwing a "Lesbian Dance" at the Gay Community Center of Philadelphia (now William Way) strictly to fund their legal defense.

A roadmap from activists of the past

The exhibition also showcases the manifesto of the Radical Queens, a trans and gender-nonconforming activist group founded in the city in 1973, whose early drag shows served as the initial fundraisers to buy the building that would eventually become William Way.

"As our community faces increased attacks, especially on immigrants and the trans community, this exhibition demonstrates how we've combatted oppression in the past through collective power, creativity, humor, and resilience," Foster explains.

To make that history tactile, contemporary artists in the gallery are "reactivating" these paper remnants. Ceramicist (and prolific local theater artist) Justin Jain’s installation, Ancestor Tiles 1976, displays the fired-clay names of Philadelphia’s 1970s activists, staged intentionally alongside pop-culture ephemera of the era: vintage pins, jewelry, toys, and a glowing lava lamp.

A messy, complicated, and dynamic discussion

The spirit of this exhibition is also moving outside the gallery. On July 2, the Philly Queer Book Club will gather at Giovanni’s Room to discuss Stein’s Bicentennial.

The location, while the regular spot for the group, has special resonance. Giovanni’s Room was an indispensable geographic anchor for the very 1970s radical movements tracked in Stein's book and Foster's gallery.

"I wanted the group to read Bicentennial for a few reasons that speak to the national moment, but also to where the queer community is right now," says Danny Maloney, organizer of the Philly Queer Book Club. "It's so necessary that queer people—especially younger queer people—develop a greater appreciation for the history of work and activism that older generations did. It's often messy and complicated and dynamic."

Maloney views the book club not as a passive academic exercise, but as a space to practice the community dialogue Stein documents.

"Organizing efforts and communities back then found ways to work in alignment or in conversation with each other—even if they weren't perfectly in agreement about everything," Maloney notes. "A conversation—book club based or otherwise—should be the same way. Really valuable things can be discovered when we find alignments even if we don't read the book exactly the same way."

For Maloney, engaging with a milestone like America 250 is a matter of civic responsibility. "Markers are important," he says. "They offer us really valuable opportunities to look back critically and curiously—not dismissively or apathetically—and see what lessons we can take moving forward."

For those who are not celebrating America today

The ultimate culmination of this intellectual and archival work drops on the evening of July 3. Historically, July 3, 1976, was the date the Fun-Raisers staged their grassroots "Gay Freedom Festivities" block party in Philadelphia, which was promptly disrupted by 40 homophobic, fundamentalist Christian protesters.

Exactly 50 years later to the day, Philly Queer Fundy (PQF) is stepping in. While past fundraising parties (or “Fundies”) have been higher-energy dance parties, the organization is deliberately shifting its tactics for the holiday weekend to host Salon: A Retrospective and Cabaret by PQF.

"To mark the Semiquincentennial and offer some queer counter-programming to the 'patriotic' festivities happening around the city, PQF is going to diverge significantly from its typical style," says Carly Linder, an organizer with PQF.

The design of the event draws inspiration from both the radical French political salons of the 18th century and the historic Philadelphia Gay and Lesbian Coffeehouse, which operated as a dry, safe space for radical communication from 1973 to 1983.

The 75-minute cabaret program on July 3 will feature poets, comics, singers, historians, and musicians. The line-up includes Tom Wilson Weinberg, whose original 1970s activism is featured in the very archival materials lining the walls. The program will be hosted by PQF member and local performer Dan Kitrosser as Karen Tenderness. Space for the event is limited. Only 100 tickets are available.

True to the lineage of Dyketactics! and the Radical Queens, the evening is fundamentally an act of mutual aid. Operating on a suggested donation for themed cocktails, mocktails, and homemade baked treats, the funds raised are earmarked for two immediate fronts: the local Trans Programs and Trans Resource Center at William Way, and the Asylum Pride House, which provides direct housing and care for LGBTQ+ asylum seekers.

"Salon aims to provide a safe and cozy space for those not celebrating where the US finds itself at 250," Linder says. "While Philly Queer Fundy finds itself in a vastly different time, we, like Dyketactics, understand that liberation of queerness and transness is intrinsically tied to the reformation and liberation of all humankind."

A monument and a project

Ultimately, the collective programming of William Way, the Philly Queer Book Club, and Philly Queer Fundy offers a rebellious, local antidote to the narratives of the federal government's birthday plans. It repositions the city not just as a monument to its history, but as an ongoing project of living neighbors.

"The program will remind us of all the ways we show up for each other in this great country of Philadelphia," Linder notes. "Because that’s what we do, no matter who considers themselves in charge. This struggle is our inheritance, and our demands remain the same—liberty and justice for all."

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