Gay bars were the heart of Atlanta’s LGBTQ+ community. Is that still true?
It seems that every day there’s a new way for Atlanta’s queer community to convene. There are drag brunches, “Heated Rivalry” dance parties, festivals, themed club nights and sports gatherings.
But for generations past, one institution was able to meet many of the community’s needs as a place to socialize and celebrate: the bar.
As Gen-Z comes of age, many LGBTQ+ Atlantans are finding community outside of traditional gay bars through festivals, affinity groups, themed events and social organizations. While older generations often still view bars as a cornerstone of queer life, younger community members are spreading queer culture across a wider range of spaces.
So, is Atlanta’s queer community still at the gay bar? It depends on who you ask.
Less drinking, more inclusion
Atlanta’s legacy gay bars carry reputations for serving specific groups within the LGBTQ+ community. Bulldogs, Atlanta’s oldest gay bar, states that it has a predominantly African American older male clientele. My Sister’s Room is one of the last lesbian bars in the nation, and Eagle has roots as a space for the leather and bear communities among gay men.
Members of today’s LGBTQ+ community encompass a wide range of genders and sexualities. For some younger queer Atlantans, the shift away from bars is about more than drinking habits. It’s also about finding spaces that reflect the diversity of modern queer identities.
Naima Fowler, a Black woman and recent graduate of Spelman College who identifies as a lesbian, does not feel drawn to the traditional lesbian bar because the clientele is usually older and white. Instead, she wants to be among her peers.
“I just find Black queer people finding our own spaces and making our own spaces,” Fowler said.
Gen-Z is also drinking less. According to a Gallup poll, the percentage of adults under 35 who said they have ever drank alcohol declined from 72% in 2001-2003 to 62% in 2021-2023.
Lin Sims, a social education worker and student at Georgia State University who identifies as a nonbinary lesbian, thinks that is because people are looking for community without the need to get drunk.
“People are wanting to go to a club,” Sims said. “Not like a party kind of club, but an after-school kind of club. I think as we are becoming more and more widely accepted, people no longer really want spaces that are bars.”
Groups like Southern Fried Queer Pride fill that gap with festivals, markets and drag shows that target the wider queer community. Co-founder and executive director Taylor Alxndr (pronounced like Alexander) said the organization works to provide a variety of options for people who want to participate in its events.
“We always try to have a good mixture of the educational, the communal and the social,” Alxndr said. “It’s a little bit everything for everybody.”
Rather than replacing gay bars, organizations like Southern Fried Queer Pride are expanding the places where queer Atlantans can find community.
This is not to say the gay bar is no longer necessary, nor that such spaces are exclusionary. According to Richard Ramey, owner of Eagle, the bar has aimed to be more of a community establishment since he took ownership.
“My goal, when I moved to the new location, is exactly what it is today and it’s a community bar,” Ramey said. “We have so many different people that come in that I know is so diverse, and it’s just incredible.”
‘Their tastes are very curated’
A lot of Gen-Z’s existence has been spent on the internet. The way younger LGBTQ+ Atlantans socialize has also been shaped by online culture, where personalized algorithms and niche interests influence everything.
Nightlife is no exception, with many members of Gen-Z feeling drawn to go out for a specific event rather than a casual night out. Some venues, like LORE, enlist themed events to meet Gen-Z where they’re at.
“I think the people are a lot more picky now than they used to be, and you really have to give them very specific reasons to come out,” Jon Dean, owner of LORE, said.
LORE’s shows are pop-culture focused and geared toward people with niche interests. One night could be a drag show themed around “Power Rangers.” The next could be a hyperpop dance party.
Bars that are more established do not face the same pressure to constantly curate programming. Mary’s general manager, Ben Cheaves, said the venue benefits from being a neighborhood bar with regular business from consistent patrons.
“There are a lot of regulars there every day when we open that just live in the neighborhood, so it’s their local watering hole,” Cheaves said. “We have a good mix of people that come in.”
Alxndr, who also works as a drag performer, said younger audiences often seek experiences tailored to their specific interests.
“Everything has to be themed, and I think it’s because of the changing demographic,” Alxndr said. “A lot of them are Gen-Z and I think their tastes are very curated. Your algorithm feeds you things that you’re interested in. Your music selection is also curated through an algorithm. So everything in their lives is dictated toward their taste.”
The older generation is hoping traditions do not get lost in the push toward more niche experiences. David Wright, a general manager at Lips, said he wants drag pageantry to stay alive.
“Before ‘Drag Race,’ that was what you did,” Wright said. “That’s how you met everybody. I think it’s something that not enough young entertainers do, and not enough people know about.”
With the opening of new venues and gathering spaces, Ramey does not want gay bars to disappear altogether.
“I hope that gay bars will continue to be a safe space,” Ramey said. “I know mine will be.”
Atlanta’s queer community is not abandoning the gay bar. Instead, younger generations are redefining where queer connection happens. Bars remain an important part of queer life, but they are no longer the only place where LGBTQ+ Atlantans gather.