{"id":257590,"date":"2026-04-08T13:21:03","date_gmt":"2026-04-08T13:21:03","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/us-ca\/257590\/"},"modified":"2026-04-08T13:21:03","modified_gmt":"2026-04-08T13:21:03","slug":"what-does-it-take-for-a-queer-bar-to-survive-in-the-bay-area","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/us-ca\/257590\/","title":{"rendered":"What does it take for a queer bar to survive in the Bay Area?"},"content":{"rendered":"

This story aired in the April 08, 2026 episode of Crosscurrents. <\/a><\/p>\n

Late last year, the beloved Oakland queer bar Friends and Family announced the news that it was closing. Their community was so upset, devoted customers even threw the bar a funeral. <\/p>\n

Their closure left many wondering why it seems so hard for the few bars that serve lesbian and queer people in the Bay Area to survive. It turns out, according to one queer sociologist, that there’s actually a magic formula that queer bars need to succeed.<\/p>\n

Click the button above to listen!<\/p>\n

Story transcript:<\/p>\n

Sound of a car driving by.<\/p>\n

REPORTER: I’m standing at the corner of Telegraph and 66th in Oakland, in front of what’s known as the oldest operating gay bar in the country: the White Horse Inn<\/a>. It’s a windowless building with white paneling and blue trim. The bar officially opened in 1933<\/a>, but it\u2019s long-rumoured to have been a speakeasy before that. Patrons would sneak in through the adjacent Chinese restaurant.<\/p>\n

PATTY NISHIMURA DINGLE: \u200aIt was very secretive. People would come through there to get into here. \u200a<\/p>\n

REPORTER: That\u2019s Patty Nishimura Dingle, the White Horse\u2019s owner. She says that before homosexuality was decriminalized<\/a>, underground bars were one of the few places where folks could go to find lovers, friends, or just people like them \u2014 in relative safety. Hence the White Horse\u2019s lack of windows.<\/a><\/p>\n

Patty bought the White Horse in 2022<\/a>.<\/p>\n

NISHIMURA DINGLE: \u200aI am the first queer woman of color, sole owner of the White Horse, which I’m super proud about.\u00a0<\/p>\n

NISHIMURA DINGLE: In its early days, it operated as a bar for gay men, but patrons dating back to at least the \u201880s recall it being queer friendly<\/a> \u2014 open to the wider community. This kind of integration is often rare for LQBTQ spaces. But Patty thinks that\u2019s part of what makes the White Horse special.<\/p>\n

NISHIMURA DINGLE: Who felt like this was a safe place over the years may have changed. You know, like maybe it started with gay men, lesbian women, and then like, transgender \u2013\u2013\u00a0 whatever it is, you\u2019re protected here.<\/p>\n

\"Patty<\/p>\n

Jordan Karnes<\/p>\n

\/<\/p>\n

KALW News<\/p>\n

Patty Nishimura Dingle bought the White Horse in 2022.<\/p>\n

REPORTER: So, Patty makes sure that people of every gender, sexual orientation, and race have something for them at the White Horse. Take a look at their event line-up.<\/a> It runs the gamut from Valkyries and Warriors watch parties, to Queer Karaoke, to a long-running drag king show, and dance parties of every persuasion.<\/p>\n

Sound of doorperson selling tickets and checking IDs.<\/p>\n

REPORTER: Tonight I\u2019m here for the Ru Paul\u2019s Drag Race watch party.<\/p>\n

People are gathered around the bar\u2019s many TVs to watch the show. It\u2019s a packed house, and a diverse house. Not just racially, but in gender expression and sexual orientation.<\/p>\n

Sound of drag queen emcees talking to the audience.\u00a0<\/p>\n

REPORTER: I step outside to talk with Kodie Rusca. She says that that diversity is what she loves about this place.<\/p>\n

KODIE RUSCA: There’s a variety of people here. It’s not just one kind of person. There’s all kinds of people here, and I really like that.\u00a0<\/p>\n

REPORTER: Another regular, Sis Nau T agrees.<\/p>\n

SIS NAU T: Yeah. Everybody gets to shine at the White horse.\u00a0<\/p>\n

REPORTER: It turns out that what makes the White Horse special \u2014 its diversity, its history of inclusion, and its affordability \u2014 is sort of the magic formula that queer bars need to succeed as businesses.<\/p>\n

That\u2019s according to Greggor Mattson,<\/a> a professor of sociology at Oberlin College.<\/p>\n

GREGGOR MATTSON: \u200aI lived in Oakland for nine years and I learned to flirt at the White Horse.\u00a0<\/p>\n

REPORTER: Greggor is the author of the book, Who Needs Gay Bars?\u00a0<\/a><\/p>\n

MATTSON: \u200aWhen I was researching the book, I drove all over the country, 39 states\u2026<\/p>\n

REPORTER: \u2026 studying what these bars need to survive. And he visited and counted the bars that specifically served gay men and those that specifically served lesbian women, as well as those that identified as queer \u2014 like the White Horse\u2014open to the whole LGBTQ alphabet.<\/p>\n

And what Greggor found is that, here in the broader Bay Area, there currently are about thirty bars that cater to gay men, but only five that cater to lesbians, or to queer people more generally.<\/p>\n

Polls<\/a> show that, nationally, there aren\u2019t that many more gay men than lesbians and queer-identified folks. So why do they have so many more bars? Well, it\u2019s complicated, starting with identity.<\/p>\n

MATTSON: The lesbian community in the \u201890s had to reckon with the fact that there were trans people who wanted to come to the bars, that there were trans lesbians, that trans men were part of the lesbian community\u2026<\/p>\n

REPORTER: More people began identifying as \u201cqueer\u201d<\/a> rather than gay or lesbian because it\u2019s a gender-expansive term that can encompass both trans and nonbinary people. So many lesbian bars broadened into queer bars to welcome people of those identities, too. And the ones that didn\u2019t?<\/p>\n

MATTSON:\u200aThose bars didn’t last. And so to some degree, I think the inclusivity of lesbian bars is a product of survival, but I think it’s also where the community has gone.<\/p>\n

REPORTER: Meaning, they did it for community and financial reasons. Because, simply put, lesbians, non-binary, and trans people make less money<\/a>. That\u2019s another reason there\u2019s fewer lesbian and queer bars than gay bars.<\/p>\n

MATTSON: \u200aIf you have a business, if the population you are trying to serve and target has less money on average, then there is less money for you to earn.<\/p>\n

REPORTER: The problem though, Greggor says, is that many of their queer customers don\u2019t really think about how these bars are businesses. He says that studies show that queer customers want their bars to be politically and ethically minded \u2014 like, they care where they source their supplies, who they work with, and who works for them. Which can be hard for these bars, who ultimately have to think about their financial bottom line.<\/p>\n

MATTSON: At the end of the day, lesbian bars and queer bars are small businesses. They’re not community organizations.<\/p>\n

REPORTER: So how does a queer bar survive? That\u2019s where Greggor\u2019s formula comes in. He says that bars need to: cater to different audiences\u2026<\/p>\n

MATTSON: Nights that play reggae tone or that play hip hop or slow jams\u2026Nonbinary dance night… Lesbian bingo, lesbian drag shows, lesbian\u2026 you know it\u2019s gotta have events.<\/p>\n

Have good ethics\u2026<\/p>\n

MATTSON: Politics has to be the backbone.<\/p>\n

REPORTER: And provide affordable options.<\/p>\n

MATTSON: \u200aHaving a $2 beer is another way that you invite in the breadth and the depth of the community.\u00a0<\/p>\n

REPORTER: I take this formula to Patty, the owner of the White Horse.<\/p>\n

NISHIMURA DINGLE: \u200aOkay, so I disagree with the $2 beer\u2026 (Laughs)<\/p>\n

REPORTER: She says maybe in the Midwest bars can afford two dollar beers, but it\u2019s hard to keep a place open with those prices in the Bay Area. That said, Patty makes sure that the White Horse has affordable options, like agenerous happy hour; events that cater to a diversity of genders, sexualities, and races; and that purchasing and hiring decisions reflect the bar\u2019s politics.<\/p>\n

For the most part, it seems like Greggor\u2019s formula has been working at the White Horse for nearly a century.<\/p>\n

Sound of cocktails being mixed among chatter at the bar.<\/p>\n

REPORTER: Over in downtown Oakland \u2014 another queer bar, Friends and Family \u2014 dared to challenge Greggor\u2019s formula with a different vision of what a queer bar could be.<\/p>\n

Sound of bartender taking an order: \u201cHere we go\u2026that will be the Angel Face and the St Julien, and we\u2019re doing the cabbage salad and the petite aioli\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

REPORTER: When I visit Friends and Family on a Friday night in February, the tables are full of customers. Unlike the White Horse, there are servers taking orders for the bar\u2019s elevated cocktail and food menu. In 2024, their chef Gabby Maeda was a semi-finalist<\/a> for a coveted James Beard award.<\/p>\n

Sounds at the bar. People talking, drinks being made, champagne being popped.<\/p>\n

\"A<\/p>\n

Jordan Karnes<\/p>\n

\/<\/p>\n

KALW News<\/p>\n

Friends and Family closed in February 2026.<\/p>\n

REPORTER: Karl Helm has been a regular since the beginning.<\/p>\n

KARL HELM: There are a lot of spaces for queers that are dive bars and clubs and this is like a totally different thing that doesn\u2019t exist, really, elsewhere.<\/p>\n

REPORTER: Remember sociologist Greggor Mattson\u2019s formula for how queer bars can survive: they need to be open to a diverse community, have a political backbone, and have affordable options.<\/p>\n

Well, Friends and Family<\/a> doesn\u2019t quite check all of those boxes. It is strong on politics. It is decidedly queer and open to a diverse community, including straight people. But, it serves nice food and cocktails \u2026 which are pricey. Or at least it used to.<\/p>\n

BLAKE COLE: \u200aIt made people confused, like straight people didn’t know if they could come here.<\/p>\n

REPORTER: This is owner Blake Cole.<\/p>\n

COLE: And lots of queer people couldn’t quite afford to come here.\u00a0 And we were confusing to people.<\/p>\n

REPORTER: And, the bar opened at the beginning of the pandemic<\/a>. Their overhead was high and the bills piled up. For years, Blake says she struggled to make it work. So, Friends and Family made the announcement that it would be closing in early 2026. The news came as a big loss to their community.<\/p>\n

COLE: \u200aThis time that we’re in is so hard just to exist in the world that you add on operating a small business, you add on operating a small queer business on top of that, and it really feels almost impossible to survive every day.<\/p>\n

REPORTER: Patty Nishimura Dingle, the White Horse\u2019s owner, agrees. Even though the formula seems to be \u201cworking\u201d at the White Horse, Patty says that it\u2019s still really hard to survive as a queer business.<\/p>\n

NISHIMURA DINGLE: \u200aLike, y’all have no idea what it takes, again, to run a bar.<\/p>\n

REPORTER: But, just like Blake, she does it because she knows how important it is to have these spaces for all queer people.<\/p>\n

NISHIMURA DINGLE: I wanna own a bar. I wanna create that experience for people. And we all know as part of the community, love is what really kind of connects all of us.\u00a0<\/p>\n

REPORTER: It\u2019s the same drive for connection that led people to sneak through that Chinese restaurant into the White Horse\u2019s windowless haven more than 90 years ago.<\/p>\n