An Old Wives' Tale Continues to Be Told
http://www.justout.com/news.aspx?id=171
By Amanda Waldroupe
1/8/2010
Holly Hart's red corduroy shirt is dusted with flour as she charges
out of the Old Wives' Tales kitchen, a limp hardly noticeable. It's
the first of four Sundays that the Southeast Portland eatery will
cook 100 meals for activists canvassing in support of Measures 66 and
67. Hart's cheeks are flushed, and her green eyes peer out from
wire-rimmed glasses with intensity.
The owner calls her restaurant's name "a cliché." Wikipedia defines
an "old wives' tale" as an urban legend passed from generation to
generation, usually by women. Typically, they are untrue and meant to
frighten younger generations.
Some of the things Hart says about gay rights and what it was like to
be gay in 1970s Portland may sound like some.
People were closeted and afraid of coming outeven, in Hart's case,
at liberal Reed College. The difference between terms like
"transvestite" and "transgender" was just beginning to be defined.
The only places for gays and lesbians to meet were at smoke-filled,
alcohol-serving bars.
"This association between alcohol, drugs and trying to
socializethat's what you were stuck with," Hart remembers. "It was
the Dark Ages."
The history of the gay community, its culture, and its 30-year
struggle out of those times are etched in Hart's memoryeven if she's
not good with certain dates, which she attempts to recall while
gripping her short, steel gray hair with one hand. Since those
beginnings, Hart has been an integral part of the gay communityan
activist who co-founded one of Portland's first gay organizations,
argued some of Oregon's first gay custody cases as a lawyer, and now
provides food to her customers, and the hundreds of organizations Old
Wives' Tales donates to each year.
That Hart is a lifelong activist may seem another old wives' tale.
Activism often disappears with one's twenties, an exchange of
full-time idealism and passion for a full-time job and obligations.
Not so in Hart's case. Rather than waxing reminiscent of activist
days of yore, she continues living it through food.
Some of her earliest memories involve food and activism. For a school
fundraiser in the eighth grade, she made what she calls "pot after
pot" of popcorn in her mother's small apartment kitchen.
During the 1970s, while a "full-time gay activist," Hart was reminded
food could be used as part of public service; she and fellow
volunteers prepared food for people stuffing envelopes addressed to
various members of Oregon's legislature during a ballot measure campaign.
But Hart's path to founding Old Wives' Talesa gathering place and
hub for the gay community throughout its 30-year historywas circuitous.
Hart first became involved in activism during her high school days in
Chicago. In college, she focused her efforts on anti-Vietnam and
Civil Rights activism. She attended law school at the University of
California Berkeley, wanting to use law as a tool of affecting social
change. Returning to Portland in 1975, she began her practice. She
also served as chairperson of Oregon Governor Bob Straub's Task Force
on Sexual Preference.
Through editing a counter-culture newspaper called Willamette Bridge,
she co-founded the Gay Liberation Movement. The organization
established hotlines for lesbian women and gay men. Simultaneously,
she was involved with the National Organization for Women (NOW)
during the women's movement's early years.
Hart concluded there was no venue in Portland where gay people could
meet each other safely. There was also no place for women, aside from
spaces run by radical feminists.
"I really decided that I wanted to open a feminist-, gay- and
lesbian-accepting restaurant and bookstore," Hart says. "[None] of
those needs were being met."
"What activism is all about is identifying what you think people
need, and the un-served needs of individuals and communities," Hart
adds. "That's what motivates me on a continual basis."
She closed her law practice and opened the restaurantknown then as
Old Wives' Tales Restaurant and Women's Centeron August 1, 1980 (the
bookstore never came to fruition). "There was a line down the block,"
Hart says. "[People] were looking forward to this place opening."
A then-identifying "transvestite" group would meet in "full view," as
well as "all kinds of gay groups." Various organizations and meetings
convened daily at the restaurant. "An awful lot of things got
launched," Hart says. Ample bulletin board space for event and
service advertisements still graces the walls.
Never approaching Old Wives' Tales as a restaurant professional, Hart
uses both the venue and menu to serve the gay and women's
communities' needs, providing a place for people to gather, feel
accepted, and foster discussion and change.
Just as Old Wives' Tales filled a gaping social hole, it filled a
cavernous void in the early '80s Portland restaurant scene. "Thirty
years ago, there was no such thing as a multi-ethnic restaurant in
Portland," says Hart, who is an omnivore. "If you were a vegetarian
or vegan, you were screwed."
The menu at Old Wives' Tales is eclectic and ever-changing, serving
vegan, wheat-free, dairy-free and gluten-free food.
Each year, Old Wives' Tales donates hundreds of $35 gift certificates
to schools, religious organizations and other nonprofits (Hart
doesn't keep track of the number). The restaurant also contributes
food for celebrations, anniversaries, holiday dinners and other
events for dozens of progressive nonprofits each year.
While still dedicated to "[alleviating] the ills of society and
trying to bring about important, qualitative change," Hart's mission
has evolved into "supporting other people's activism."
"This is how I live my activism," she says.
.
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