I am an award-winning freelance journalist based in Brooklyn (formerly based in Providence, R.I.), an erstwhile fact-checker at Esquire, and an Adjunct Lecturer in the English Department at Brooklyn College. I recently graduated with a Master of Fine Arts in creative nonfiction from the New School, where my graduate thesis was a book-length work of narrative journalism about hepatitis C and addiction. This is not a blog, but rather a collection of some of my work.

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Hurricane Doria

Singer-songwriter Doria Roberts—lesbian force of nature—rocks this summer with performance, a new CD, and her own pride festival, Queerstock

By Beth Schwartzapfel
July 18, 2006

As the name of her record label indicates, folk rocker Doria Roberts brings thunder and lightning wherever she goes. In April, Hurricane Doria Records released the 34-year-old singer songwriter’s sixth album, Woman Dangerous. And June marked the 11th anniversary of Queerstock, the loose-knit festival that historically has piggybacked on pride events nationwide. Put together each year like a potluck with various musicians in different cities, Queerstock offers an edgier alternative to what some call the overly commercial lineups at many pride festivals.

Queerstock originated in 1995 at a gay hangout area on Philadelphia’s Schuylkill River known as “Judy Garland Park,” where Roberts and a bunch of guitarists plugged in and made some noise. Moving to Atlanta in 1996, Roberts has single-handedly organized Queerstock since.

Her new record marks a return for Roberts: Starting in 2003 she cut her touring by at least half and took a break from making records. Her many years of activism were starting to wear her down, and the constant identity-shuffling she was subject to as a gay female African-American musician was causing her to lose perspective.

“I’d play at the women’s festival [where] it was more important for me to be a woman. I’d play a jazz festival where the audience was predominantly black…Or I would play gay pride, and then I’d be gay,” says Roberts. “I just couldn’t be Doria.” The lead track on Woman Dangerous, “Simple Life,” is an anthem for Roberts’s return, a paean to being yourself and not making apologies. “I’ve played the victim too long / and I have paid some dues,” sings Roberts in her clear-throated and fierce tenor, “But I have packed all my bags / And I am looking for something new.” For a musician who’s appeared in as many protest rallies as concert halls, Roberts’s new record is decidedly personal. The songs offer intimate details and domestic scenes, such as Roberts drinking coffee at 5 a.m. with her girlfriend. Roberts says that the album is, finally, “where I get to be me.”

Meanwhile, Queerstock, which has a tour tentatively scheduled for this fall, is “the longest relationship I’ve had,” Roberts jokes, attributing the festival’s longevity, in part, to its mission. As its motto goes, “start enjoying what you’ve been fighting for.”

As for Roberts, look for her on stage at this summer’s Gay Games. Listen to her lovely guitar playing, and get a sense, most of all, of the new resolve with which she returns to the scene. “Let’s see what Doria Roberts looking the world in the eye as a whole person looks like,” she says. “Pretty much, I’m not to be messed with, in any way.”