So, how far is “up there?”  Only a 30-60’ish minute drive north of Anchorage is the edge of the Mat-Su Valley region, so … really not far in Alaskan distances!   As I started networking more in Alaska, I quickly learned that “the valley,” otherwise known as the Matanuska and Susitna Valleys, has a reputation for being one of the more transphobic, homophobic regions on the main road system.  I had a ‘home-base’ in Eagle River for the summer, a town 25 minutes north of Anchorage that is just shy of the Mat-Su Valley region’s southern edge, and heard similar comments about Eagle River when people asked where I was staying.  “Good luck… you might have a hard time getting people for your project in Eagle River or the valley…” or “they really need a project like yours in places like that … be careful up there..”   I then found that my repeated attempts to put up rainbow flyers in businesses (with permission from owners!) resulted in strangers quickly taking them down. 

This surprised and somewhat perplexed me … I had initially thought of the large towns/cities 30-60 minutes north of Anchorage as just extensions of Anchorage; in fact Eagle River is still part of the Anchorage Municipality (despite local pushes for secession from Anchorage by small groups of community members over the years).   However, it didn’t take me long to discover that socially progressive might not be the best descriptor for the northern suburbs of Anchorage and communities in the scenic valleys known as the Mat-Su. 

‘Unpleasantries’ and Transphobia: Who is Really the Dina-saurus Rex?

Several months before coming back to Alaska, I scoured the internet for an affordable rental, and was stoked to find a homeowner renting a room for a lower price than the usual sky-high summer rentals.  The lucky find with a mostly absent homeowner was nestled next to a turquoise river in a lush, green valley crawling with black bears.   

After enjoying the peaceful location for a month, I ran into my new neighbor who owned the other half of this duplex.  She introduced herself by saying “So you’re the photographer?”  There was a smile on her face, but her tone was disgusted and I felt my skin bristle.  I could only guess that my landlord, a kind woman who was friends with this neighbor, had told her about All the Genders.   I wanted to keep it brief, not having the mental energy for a potential confrontation that day.  “I am a photographer, yes! You must be (name)?” 

“So, I heard you’re photographing the natives or something?”  she said, in a slightly mocking tone.  Uhh … educational conversations surrounding queer visibility were important to me, but made some snap calculations over how productive this interaction was likely to be; I decided this wasn’t worth the effort with someone who held the spare key to my temporary residence, where I was mostly living alone and stashing my camera gear.  I gave a short & literal answer … “I’ve worked with a couple Alaska Native people so far, but my photography focus is on gender identity of people from all backgrounds.”  I started backing up towards my car, eyeing my bags in the trunk to indicate I had no interest in further interaction. 

She started sounding a little more amped up, “so tell me, why do you think it’s so important to photograph these people?”   Her body language wasn’t friendly, so I tried to keep a cheerful tone in response.  “Well… being a gender queer person myself, I think visibility for everyone is important.”  She suddenly escalated more in response,  “I’m a nurse!   I’ve been a nurse for decades, and I know that there are only two genders, I can see people’s parts in the hospital!!  SO –  what do you think you need to photograph?!”   

My jaw started dropping.  I went to school in the medical field for probably longer than she did – 8 years total to get a doctorate degree and physical therapy license, but kept my mouth shut. This did not need to be a metaphorical dick measuring contest with an ignorant professional who was no doubt contributing to the engrained transphobia in our healthcare system.  I assumed she had no interest in being educated on the difference between sex and gender. So, I tried working towards ending the interaction again, and told her we didn’t need to talk about what I was doing if she wasn’t actually interested. 

“What makes you think that?  See THAT?!  You’re just assuming that I’m criticizing you!  You just jumped to a conclusion!”  Her voice then got more shrill and sharp, maybe just shy of yelling, and the petite, nurse in her 50’s bumped it up another few notches as she stepped towards me and I backed up again.  “I mean, if you think you’re DEEEE-NA-SAUR-US-REX, then GOOD FOR YOU!!! Just keep that to yourself!!”  She didn’t feel like a physical threat, but I could almost feel the bitter spit coming out of her mouth.  “If you think you’re a cat and want to shit in a litter box, you keep that to YOURSELF!!”   I was at a loss for words, then told her it was nice meeting her as I turned my back on this person who clearly needed to bully somebody that day.  

I’m picking this one interaction in Eagle River to talk about, partly because it was amusing to write about after further reflection, however, it rattled me at the time and it’s truly not funny and part of the problem.  It is important that we call people out on this type of behavior, or people will feel like they can continue to bully when no one is looking.  I don’t necessarily think this interaction represents the entirety of this region, but this perhaps reflects that a higher percentage of queer people I talked to north of Anchorage expressed being openly harassed in aggressive ways on more than one occasion in their communities.  A couple of those people experienced dramatic, life changing levels of harassment, discrimination and bullying.   Local politics in this region concerning things like book bans are also the opposite of queer-friendly. 

The Good Stuff in Mat-Su (and Eagle River) … There’s Still A Lot of It

I also met queer people in Eagle River and the Mat-Su Valley who are thriving and living their best lives, and I personally had a lot of beautiful experiences staying in this area that I’ll share a glimpse of in this last piece of the post. A few of the queer people I talked to here were thriving in their personal lives and careers.  A military veteran who paved the way by being one of the first transgender people to transition after it was allowed again under President Biden decided to move back here.  Another found refuge here after fleeing from abusive relationships in other states.  

The towns in these valleys include Sarah Palin’s hometown (not saying this is good or bad…), are homes to thousands of military members and veterans, and home to many Alaska Natives (although a much lower percentage than the rest of the state overall).  Farms in these valleys also hold records for the world’s largest vegetables grown – how crazy is that? Despite the growing season being short, the long days of sunshine mixed with rich soil from glacial melt is an ideal mix for fast growing. 

One of the people I photographed chose the iconic Hatcher’s Pass for their location… a favorite of both locals and tourists.  They had actually cancelled on me 2-3 times being worried about the harsh weather … when we finally met up, the weather was still impressive, with the wind aggressively whipping through the pass. It made for some fun photos though (see social media for their story).  After the photo shoot, I trekked up a mountainside for a longer walk to just take it all in.

On another photo shoot here, we indulged in the fireweed’s rapidly changing state before winter.  Fields of fiery, crimson colored leaves blanketed fields at the base of looming mountains hiding in the clouds.  

I’ll try not to bore you with all the cool places I got to visit in this region, but will share a couple more glimpses of the Eagle River Valley, and a long hike I did in the downpour to the edge of this rock glacier and lake hidden deep in the valley.  

This area is also home to Underground Pride, an alternative Pride event that started in July during COVID lockdowns, and quickly ballooned into a much larger event over the past couple years.  I think the name seems to fit the mixed bag of experiences for LGBTQ folks in this beautiful region, and hope that initiatives like this can keep nudging the valley towards being a more inclusive place that matches its wild surroundings. 

Thank you for being here, and on this journey with me! To continue this Alaskan QueerVenture further north, keep me company heading another 200 miles north to Mount Denali, then to Fairbanks, Alaska!

June – September 2023