Lucjan Rostkowski-Covington
The Fabian & Nobuko Foundation
Acknowledgments
Introduction
Diagram
Case Studies:
Lublin: Biblioteka Azyl
Kraków: Dom EQ
Warsaw: BAZA
Toruń: Centrum Równik
Białystok: Otwarty Parasol
Tarnów: Tarnowskie Centrum Równości
Conclusions
References
Thank you to the sponsors of this project, The Fabian & Nobuko Foundation, for allowing this work to move forward into the next phase. Without your support, the spatialization and reconstruction of community-based Polish queer spaces would not have been possible.
Special thanks to Sarian Jarosz for continued advisement and guidance with my research.
Thank you to Sharon Haar and Emily Kutil for support in the project grant application process.
Thank you to all the people who took part in interviews for my case study and this report. Namely, Ulla Prussak from BAZA, Mateusz Gędźba from Dom EQ, Filip Kijowski from Biblioteka Azyl, Greta Pękała from Tarnowskie Centrum Równości, Maxine Żołtowska and Oliwia Wydra from Równik, and finally Radek Dulewicz, Piotr Trochimczyk, and Lex Chomczyk from Otwarty Parasol. Your powerful stories and voices helped shape the trajectory of this work.
To date, I have visited 21 queer spaces in 8 cities around Poland. Within the many spaces I studied and people that I spoke to, 6 spaces warranted a deeper dive, both architecturally and socially during this phase of work. These 6 spaces are BAZA in Warsaw, Dom EQ (Krakowskie Centrum Równości) in Kraków, Równik in Toruń, Otwarty Parasol in Białystok, Tarnowskie Centrum Równości in Tarnów, and Biblioteka Azyl in Lublin. These 6 spaces were analyzed using an in-depth interview with volunteers, design and social observations, and a 3D digital reconstruction of each space to tie the social and architectural elements of them together. Finally, the spaces are compared and contrasted with each other to reveal the mechanisms that allow for people to feel safe in them.
Centering the voices of queer people and spaces in smaller cities and communities around the country was imperative with this work. I am thrilled with the inclusion of cities such as Tarnów, Bialystok, and Toruń, as these queer communities have faced challenging and homophobic histories, but have thriving activism in them despite these setbacks. Such is the double-edged sword with conservative regions of Poland, the struggle of the oppressed yields beautiful stories and spaces of diversity and inclusion, unique to Poland. May these stories and methodologies serve as inspirations for the many ways in which queer spaces can operate worldwide, regardless of how difficult the circumstances may seem. We hold the power to create them, allow them to thrive, and see them evolve over time.
Queer spaces face many challenges but the communities who activate them will always prevail. At the time of writing this, two of the spaces I studied, BAZA in Warsaw and Otwarty Parasol in Bialystok, closed due to financial struggles. The talented and tenacious people who occupied them are still located in their respective communities, they have just dispersed to other places either for work or activism. There can and will be a rebirth of both these spaces.
As of now, BAZA has plans to reopen their space inside an existing Warsaw cultural institution and Otwarty Parasol will return to its former location it was sharing with several other NGO’s in a local community center.1,2 This need to document and archive queer spaces while they exist is what drives this work and the ways in which queer spaces transform over time is what underscores the power of what it means to be unapologetically queer.
Biblioteka Azyl is a queer library located in Lublin, Poland, which is a part of Galeria Labyrint, a forwardthinking, artistic beacon within the conservative stronghold of Southeastern Poland.1, 2, 3 Filip Kijowski is the founder and director of the library, whose choreography and dance training has helped cultivate this thriving space in just over a year’s time.
“I remember when I was 15 and praying to god to make me straight —I am so dissociated from that feeling and experience, but the idea that someone might be going through this same experience right now is definitely driving this work.”
Kijowski’s motivation was born out of his personal experience growing up queer in Lublin. He lived and studied in London for several years before returning to Lublin in 2020. He was first introduced to Galeria Labryint the same year after he went into the streets of the city and prompted people write postcards to the Polish President Andrzej Duda. After amassing over 1200 postcards, he read them and realized most queer individuals didn’t feel safe in the city’s public spaces. This sparked the feeling that the city needed a different kind of public safe space—a queer one.4
His relationship with Galeria Labrynt flourished when the director invited him to lead a workshop around his postcard project. The workshop turned into a yearlong artistic residency, which finally led to the gallery lending him one of their unused exhibition spaces for the queer library. The library opened on May 27th, 2022 with grassroots funding from Gofundme, donated furniture, and hundreds of donated books.5
LRC: In the beginning, were you intentionally looking for a physical space to open in Lublin?
FK: Not exactly no, my background is in improvisation, dance, and choreography. I didn’t have a specific goal in mind, I just started collecting books and after I realized that people were willing to send me books, I tried to see how many books I could collect. It was important for me to take into consideration the local community needs and to try and build the program of this space around those needs. From the feedback we have been receiving so far, it seems as though we have been able to do this.
LRC: You’ve developed an organic way of cultivating this space overtime how long did it take to collect 1,000 books?
FK: It took about a year and we are still receiving books to this day. We have received about 60 books in the last two months without asking. People would just come by the space and tell us they had some books they wanted to drop off and publishers would send us books knowing about the space they wanted their books to be in our space. It’s almost as if the initial gesture of us asking has reversed to them asking if they can send us books.
LRC: Tell me about the current exhibition and events in the space.
FK: We have an exhibition at the moment and it’s part of a cycle of exhibitions we have here that were funded by the European Cultural Foundation. We applied for grants which were for local community libraries around Europe.
FK: We want to give space to any young queer local artists, people focused on any type of creativity. Instead of us using the money to select and invite artists to come, we put out an open call to have those people be selected through this process. We want the artist to take part in each step of creating the exhibition we support them with their curatorial texts, from the technical side, they could come in and see how the exhibition was made, they could help assist in installing the exhibition. This has been the key for developing trust between us and the artists.
“We give the space to you for you to be able to speak about your queerness on your own terms without you being censored and with the help of a supportive team.”
FK: We have had 6 exhibitions and 10 events from this cycle. We have two very important events at the moment, one is called Queerowy Krąg (Queer Circle) and Queer Bookclub, these are run directly by the community the community picks the topic we want to speak about. In Queerowy Krąg, we make a circle of chairs around the space and we speak about topics such as courage, mourning, community, and family it’s established in a way where we practice deep listening, public speaking, and being heard.
LRC: How would you define a safe queer space?
FK: It’s definitely a space that I would like to return to. A space that literally attracts my body to go to. The body feels like it can go there, relax, and feel as if the nerve system slows down you can just be yourself there. You can be your most authentic self, be vulnerable, without feeling like you are being judged.
FK: This word Azyl is something that is important, it’s something that repeated itself in the postcards, so that’s why I decided to name it Biblioteka Azyl. Azyl can have two meanings in Polish, one is a place where people turn to for asylum escaping from war, but it can also be a space that is self made which is yours and your safe space. I think both of these definitions are important, especially in the context of the queer Ukrainian artists that we are currently hosting.
“We often hear that everyone from the queer community is the same we are put into the same bracket this project really shows the diversity of the queer community this demolishes the idea that we are all the same.”
LRC: Do you have a project in mind where you plan to tell the story of how this space was formed?
FK: For me it’s a community-based project and a choreographic project as well. There’s huge shame, at least in my culture, with growing up Polish and Catholic, when asking for help.
“With this project, we are trying to get rid of this shame and also the shame that there’s a shitty situation in this country—that there’s a homophobic situation here. We wanted to say that we are proud to be here and we are proud to want to build the space.”
FK: Reaching out to others slowly got rid of this shame. I think it shows proof of international solidarity between queer communities a lot of the authors responded with joy, support, and care when we from Poland wrote to them on Instagram and asked them if they wanted to send us their book. When people found out about the project, some people organized a donation box in their local community and then after that they sent us a box of 25-30 books. A lot of situations that happened were unexpected and I can recount probably a dozen of these stories.
Organizing people in a circle of chairs is choreographic in nature and creates a horizontal room structure where everyone has an equal chance of participating.
LRC: Tell me about the community building aspects of the project.
“The project as a whole is asking people to do something together. It’s a practice of building community— what is required and needed for a group to come together.”
FK: We live in a world where everything happens so quickly; I have friends who have never been a part of a community. I think if you’ve never experienced community before then you don’t know that you need it. I never knew I needed it until I saw the joy and how participating in community met certain needs which I never felt were alive in me.
Breaking up the larger open space into smaller zones of program with furniture creates more intimacy and comfortability.
FK: I ended up being seen for who I am and I was able to be friends with people who are similar to me. Seeing young people come here it’s really beautiful to see them blossom and it’s only been a year. Some people came here for the first time when they came to their first Queerowy Krąg they were very physically closed and would speak with a very contracted and say one sentence. Now they speak freely, laugh, and want to share their stories and listen to other people’s stories. There are invisible mechanisms like these here that allow for people to feel safe.
Dom EQ (Equality House), also known as Krakowskie Centrum Równości (Krakow Equality Center) is a unique queer space on the map of Krakow, Poland. What was a family home before, was transformed and adapted to be a queer community hub.1
The story about the formation of the space traces back to 2014, when several leaders of Kraków NGO’s met, formed an organization called Federacja Znaki Równości, and discussed the need for a co-working space in the city. NGO’s in Kraków do not have their own office space, they use other public spaces in the city for meeting space. As these organizations have grown in size and started expanding their social services, there became a need for them to have private spaces for services such as psychological and legal counseling. In 2017, using a participatory approach, Federacja conducted a survey with the LGBTQ+ population of Kraków to find out what types of programs, spaces, and services they would like to see in the space—they received more than 500 responses. These responses directly informed the way the space operates to this day.2
In the space—you can find social events such as book-clubs, workshops, and volunteer activities. As for social services, you can find legal help, psychological support services, clinical services, and support groups for transgender individuals and parents of LGBTQ+ people. The space also hosts organizations from around Kraków for coworking space such as Fundacja Wiara i Tęcza, Krakowphonia, and Queerowy Maj.3
The funding for the creation and operation of the space mainly came from grants such as the Active Citizens Fund, ILGA Europe, Norway Grants, Embassy of the US in Warsaw, and Campaign Against Homophobia. The city of Kraków has also been a supporter in funding events, workshops, and trainings.4
Looking out the street-facing window | August 2023
Read the interview with Mateusz Gędźba, below:
LRC: Do you think queer spaces should be enclaved or do you think they should be woven into Polish society?
MG: It should be merged and it should be visible and it should be a place that welcomes all. I don’t think making ghettos is a good idea because it always causes difficulties—people don’t understand you because you are isolated. And if they don’t understand you then don’t expect them to care about you or your rights. It was like this in Kraków with Jewish people in Kazimierz—they were completely physically separated—and were surrounded by a wall. Nobody from the rest of society knew them so a fake story could easily be made up about Jewish people and spread around.
LRC: In your opinion is visibility is the way in which we can educate people about the queer community?
MG: Yes but visibility also comes with setbacks.
“The way I see it, if someone breaks your window or puts up hate posters outside your house, it means that you are reaching a certain level of success. If you are not visible, then nobody will care.”
MG: This is the biggest challenge—because If something like this happens, then it starts to contradict with the idea of a safe space—it’s a paradox. If the public doesn’t learn, then nothing will ever change. If the public knows queer people, and knows that we are just like everyone else, then it’s much harder to manipulate the narrative.
“I think this should be the purpose of such community centers.”
MG: Having city cooperation is also very important—if they see you in meetings—if they talk to you—if they sign contracts with you—if they have everyday cooperation with you—then they will look at you in a different way. We are trying to have the level of cooperation that Stonewall Group has with the city of Poznań but it’s an ongoing process and we still have a long way to go. I see the progress. I remember when we opened this space in 2019, we sent invitations to everyone on the Kraków city council—over 20 people—and only 1 of them briefly showed up. But I’m pretty sure if we repeated this today, there would be a lot more that would show up.
As Dom EQ continues to run out of space, the hunt continues for a new, larger space to move into in Kraków. Mateusz tells me that one such solution, would be to ask the city of Kraków for a permanent space and rent directly from them. The problem with this as he tells me, is that you may be in good standing with the city council during one election cycle, but what would happen if a conservative majority would suddenly come into power? The city could easily turn their back on them and demand that they move out. This is simply to risky for the organization and space to try at this time, especially as they are still finding their footing and voice within the Kraków community.5
Are there any spaces or programs you wish you had the room for in here?
Definitely. The pride shop is one such space. We need a physical space for the pride shop and also more room for storage related to it. This generates income and online visibility.
My dream is to turn it into a social economy—a merger between social responsibility and profit. This would provide job opportunities for people who have been excluded from other opportunities.
“From what I have noticed in Poland there are two ways of starting queer community spaces. There are organizations like Stonewall Group in Poznań which are only business oriented and do not apply for grants. In Warsaw you’ll find organizations like Lambda Warszawa that only apply for grants. In Kraków, we are trying to do a bit of an experiment—we are trying to merge both.”
Primary social space | August 2023
An exciting development in the space’s growth is the opportunity they have created with a grant from ILGA to spread their knowledge with an up-and-coming LGBTQ+ organization in Poland. From October 2023 to April 2024, a member of Tęczowy Tarnów, will do a residency in Dom EQ to learn all the methods of creating their space. After this residency, this person will take their new-found knowledge and open a space similar to theirs in Tarnów, a small conservative city in Southeastern Poland.6
MG: We got this place from a private person—it was a house before. We made some renovations—we made a bathroom out of a previous kitchen space and the kitchen space out of the previous living room. We did this because the original bathroom was not wheelchair accessible—it was two steps below grade. We put in a wall between the current kitchen and our office and installed ramps and handrails. We also had to replace one of our windows because in 2019, someone threw a rock through it. We have double pane windows so the rock only broke the first pane of glass. During the summer it is very hot in here and in the winter it is very cold due to the old windows. We have very bad plumbing as well, we are in need of a toilet pump since the toilet is a bit above ground. The furniture in our space was donated from corporations in Kraków.
Having both indoor and outdoor gathering spaces is also a benefit, especially in a post-pandemic world with a person’s level of comfortability being in large groups.
A domestic setting for a queer space, such as this one, creates familiarity and a feeling of safety for attendees.
Upstairs spaces trend more private, while downstairs spaces trend more public.
LRC: How would you define a safe queer space?
MG: A space where nobody is judging them. Nobody tells them how they should look or what they should do or how they should behave. This is such a place where they feel as though the people coming here are similar to them, they have similar struggles so they can share experiences, so they don’t feel lonely.
Double pane windows and a low wall surround the site, but these elements were not intentional, but rather existed when the space was already formed.
MG: Anyone who shows up here is always welcome. If you are interested in cooking then show up on Sunday because we are cooking. If you have any ideas about how you want to shape this space—show up on Sunday because we give space to volunteers.
BAZA, also known as Inclusive.buzz is a queer space located in the heart of Warsaw, Poland. First opened in the spring of 2022, the space has organically grown to become an important meeting point in the city for the community. From members of grassroots activist groups such as Queer Without Borders, to officials from the German Parliament, everyone has a chance to gather in the space and have their voices heard.1
Success hasn’t come without setbacks though, in August 2023, I spoke with the founder of the space, Ulla Prussak, where she mentioned the space was experiencing financial hardship due to the summer business slowdown. Just a few weeks after our interview, the space publicly announced a grassroots fundraiser to help cover the operational costs through the summer slowdown. The fundraiser itself drew a lot of attention for the space from advocacy organizations and donors who offering their financial and operational support. BAZA was able to raise a staggering 42,000 Zloty (~$10,000) in just a couple months. This was enough money to allow them to be stable through the New Year. In February 2024, BAZA announced the closure of their storefront on Marszalkowska Street and moved their operations into a community-based performing arts theatre called Komuna Warszawa. On March 2nd 2024, employees and community members partook in a symbolic walk from their former space to Komuna Warszawa, taking wall decor such as signage and posters with them to the new space.2
Resource pooling is the way to remain resilient in the face of unstable economic forces that threaten community-based queer spaces. Komuna Warszawa should be commended for their willingness to open up and share their space with BAZA. This example should stand as a precedent for other spaces that face similar circumstances.
This conversation serves as a follow-up to the interview I conducted with Ulla in June of 2022.
LRC: A year ago you said that one of the ways you create a safe space is by not allowing alcohol consumption; is this still the case?
UP: That is the first step for creating a safe space, the next step is not interrupting people who are here. We have a lot of queer groups that meet here such as hiking queers and crocheting queers, more of these groups come here as they find out through word-ofmouth that we are open to them. My intuition tells me that these groups feel safe here because we let them use the space without question, without getting into their business.
LRC: Last year you mentioned that you hire mostly refugees and immigrants from countries such as Belarus, Ukraine, Syria, and Afghanistan; is this still true?
UP: Yes, and a lot of these people are also sexual minorities. These people feel safe here. After a few months of working here, they feel as though they would like to stay here forever. We give them the space and the time to be able to open up about their story when they feel comfortable.
“I believe that this is a main way of creating safe spaces, not asking too many questions and not being intrusive.”
LRC: Are you starting to work more with neighboring businesses such as Plan B?
UP: We were trying to but it didn’t really work. We would be open until midnight for a few nights and would have patrons from Plan B come and buy food from us. We would have very few customers until about 20 minutes before close, financially it didn’t make sense.
LRC: Have international organizations reached out to you for cooperation?
UP: We had a meeting here with members of the Bundestag (German Parliament), and they were interested in learning about human rights with regards to the LGBTQ community in Poland. The people from Bundestag had a meeting with the Polish Ministry of Justice and they were told that there is no problem with the LGBTQ community in Poland even though we are a traditional Catholic society. They received almost no information from the ministry so they came to us.
They learned about us through the German Embassy here in Warsaw, which we have won a grant through. We gathered about 15-20 queer Belarusian, Ukrainian, and Polish people here to speak to the members of the Bundestag. They told them the real issues they are facing within this country—how difficult it is being queer and a refugee—and how you face double exclusion in society. We are the safe space in which two sides can meet and talk about how to improve their lives. We are the point of contact for the people who are interested in queer issues.
LRC: How has the funding and support been for you locally, in Warsaw and throughout Poland?
UP: We haven’t tried to go to the mayor or the city of Warsaw for funding and support because those people are playing politics. The real support is coming from international organizations such as UNHCR and the German Embassy these are the people who are really willing to support us. We have so much international support that there is no need to look locally for government support.
LRC: I see that you now have a lot more posters on the walls now compared to last year, has it been the plan to cultivate more of a community-based DIY aesthetic?
UP: It is happening organically, we had workshops for Ukrainian youth and whatever they made such as dream-catchers and paintings just stayed here after. They were also planting new plants around BAZA.
We have a new collaboration with Plakaciary—this is an urban poster initiative. They hung two banners, one with the phrase “Gosc—Innosc” and one with the name “Edwin Chiloba”. Edwin Chiloba was openly queer and was brutally murdered in Kenya, this was a solidarity action so we would remember his name.
Love your neighbor as yourself | August 2023
Credit | Instagram: BAZA
LRC: How would you define a safe queer space?
UP: I would say in two words: nobody asks. You just are. As far as the recipe, I don’t have one, you either have it or you don’t. It is happening organically that all kinds of people who come here feel safe. You have your space here—use it the way you need it. If someone comes here and creates an uncomfortable atmosphere, then we immediately react to it, no matter what.
LRC: Do you have support from an investor at this time or is it only from grants?
UP: It’s only from grants—we finished the investor support by May [2023] and now we are on our own. Renting this space, running the kitchen, and applying for grants are our biggest sources of funding. Right now we are in dark times because there is a summer slow down—this is a nightmare for me. The most important thing for me is figuring out how to pay the employees. I am optimistic that things will work out.
A large amount of wall space creates opportunities for community members to be able to add their own art in the space. This allows for a level of comfortability, safety, and familiarity in the space.
Windows of varying sizes, create different levels of visibility between the inside and out, allowing guests to choose where they feel most comfortable.
LRC: Do more people come here during the winter than in the summer?
Rooms with varying levels of privacy allow people to choose their level of comfortability in the space.
Upstairs spaces trend more private, while downstairs spaces trend more public.
The Marszałkowka Street storefront creates a lot of public visibility for BAZA.
UP: Of course. Our activity was increasing each month from autumn into winter and we needed less and less each month from the donor to support us. It was going so well and we hit a big milestone in March. Then the summer came and everything collapsed. We are waiting for autumn to come back again so we can operate at a level that is sustainable again. Now is also the period of time where we are between grants.
Otwarty Parasol is located in Białystok, a city with a troubling recent queer history. In July of 2019, a pride march turned violent when 4000 counter-demonstrators, many of whom drove into the city from other places around Poland, assaulted pride marchers with stones, bottles, and firecrackers.1 This march was preceded by several events that instigated hostility such as when Białystok county declared itself an “LGBT Free Zone” and when leaflets were distributed in the streets stating that the city would become “contaminated with LGBT bacteria.”2,3 With several injuries and international media coverage, this tragic day would leave a stain on the city that would have long-lasting effects. The trauma and the memories of that day would become reverberated into the beginning of Otwarty Parasol and the way the space operated.4
Lex Chomczyk, one of the leaders of the local queer organization Teczowy Białystok, tells me that the city used to be incredibly multicultural, having had more than an 80% Jewish population prior to WW2. They tell me that many misconceptions still loom over Białystok such as that the current government is run by the ultra-conservative Law and Justice party, which they state is untrue and that it is run by the main opposition to this conservative party. Since 2019, there have been three more pride marches in the city, none of which turned violent. It’s safe to say the events of July 20th, 2019 are not a reflection of the city and community at large.5
Otwarty Parasol opened in February 2023. Many safety mechanisms were put into place at the beginning of operations such as the decision not to post or distribute the address of the space anywhere publicly, which slowly began to relax over time as no acts of violence occurred. The space hosted psychological support services, workshops on neurodiversity and queer history, bookclubs, and was a space for people to relax. For Lex, the biggest accomplishment was creating a space for people to make life-long friends and cater to the sensitivity of neurodivergent people through the decor and activities.6
In December 2024, Otwarty Parasol announced they were closing due to financial struggles. None of the grants that the space applied for in 2024 ended up being won, underscoring the scarceness of funding for LGBTQ+ space across Poland. They were able to stay open longer than expected due to cooperation with another organization who used their space as an office during business hours. This cooperation was a bit awkward due to the fact that the space began to feel more like a business center than a queer community center, but was necessary for survival. That organization helped pay the rent and utilities for much of 2024 until they decided to move to a different location.7
Lex tells me this is not the end of Otwarty Parasol, they will continue operating out of the city-run community center, fundraise, regroup, and hope to reopen in their own space sometime in 2025.8
On the following pages, you will find a conversation between Radek Dulewicz, Piotr Trochimczyk and myself from September 2023. Radek and Piotr were founding members of Otwarty Parasol. Their hard work and dedication to the space, along with Lex’s, should be championed and celebrated as it is often incredibly exhausting.
LRC: How did the space come to be?
RD, PT: We have had this vision since 2022 to create a space like this in Białystok. We don’t have a lot of LGBTQ+ activity happening here other than the annual Equality March, which some years happens and some years doesn’t.
We attended a workshop organized by Fundusz Dla Odmiany where we met Julia from a queer space in Toruń called Równik. We were inspired by their space after speaking with her and it clarified what exactly we wanted to bring to our own space. At this workshop, we met not only Julia but also 15 other LGBTQ+ activists from around Poland.
I believe too that the events of 2019 underscored the need for this kind of space to open in Białystok.
LRC: When did you open the space?
RD, PT: We started engaging with the LGBTQ+ community in Białystok and with smaller neighboring towns to see what they would like to see in a community-based queer space. We had gatherings of around 10-30 people. In the beginning, we were renting a free space from the city for these gatherings. We had to keep our name and activities anonymous from the city otherwise we were afraid that they would not allow us to rent the space, since ultimately the mayor could reject our request. The mayor is not necessarily anti-LGBTQ+ but he isn’t interested in providing any support either and isn’t going to publicly support any issue that his constituents won’t. We started the first activities in February of 2023. We started with typically one event per week at most, occurring every Saturday or every other Saturday.
We have days where we have both planned activities and days where we have nothing planned but people are welcome to stop by and hang out.
LRC: Tell me about why you are located in this particular area of the city?
RD, PT: We had a vision of being close to the city center; with a security system, call box, and be located at least a few floors above the ground floor so nobody could look inside and see what was happening. We are also a bit hidden and located on a quieter street and in an apartment building. This particular space also seemed warm and inviting to us, we looked at another space that
was larger and less expensive than this one, but it was located in a basement. This space is safe but at the same time inviting and warm.
LRC: How do people find out about your space?
RD, PT: We have a feeling that a lot of people don’t know about our space yet. This is both a positive and a negative. We know that a space like this would upset a lot of people in the city. We believe that most people find out about us through word-of-mouth. We don’t currently publicize our address but maybe this will change in the future. We also currently have an issue with reaching certain types of people.
LRC: What age groups of people typically come to the space?
RD, PT: We have mostly youth that come to the space; we have had some older people (30+) attend our events as well but not many. We are not sure why older queer people don’t attend as much—it’s possible that they either don’t know this space exists or they perceive it to only be for youth. Białystok youth in particular need
Above is a bookshelf inside the space with donated LGBTQ+ books.
Above are stickers from various queer initiatives around Poland.
this space more than anyone else because it is them who experience bullying at school or at home and this is the one place they get reprieve from the outside world.
LRC: How do you fund the space?
RD, PT: In July 2023 we won three grants for our space, for psychological support services and other initiatives. The funding is international, both from Norway and from the EU. It is very difficult to obtain Polish funding, in particular public funding. When we spoke with Julia from Równik at the activist workshop we went to, she mentioned to us that her funding strictly comes from international sources. As of right now, the current funding will last for another year and we’ll see what happens beyond that. We don’t necessarily have a huge need for additional funding at this time because we don’t have a lot of people using our resources.
The space is bright and open, but also is small and intimate with the way furniture subdivides the space.
A lot of care was put into making sure neurodivergent people will have the right amount of stimulation in the space with colors, books, and headphones, and activities.
There is no signage or identifying markers anywhere on the building that would suggest that Otwarty Parasol is located in this particular building.
The founders of the space made a calculated decision to have the space located away from the city center and in an apartment building a few floors above the ground floor.
Model is reflected to show the other side of Otwarty Parasol.
For example, we didn’t have a lot of people sign up for psychological support because a lot of who we serve are youth which need written permission from their parents to partake in the therapy sessions. Their parents are not willing to agree to this.
LRC: How would you define a safe queer space?
RD: “A space
where I don’t have to worry if someone will judge me. A space where I feel free, where I can be myself.”
LRC: Do you wish to see queer spaces more integrated into Polish society?
PT: It would be cool if it was a space not only for queer people but also for everyone. It’s also not mandatory for you to be queer if you are entering our space, we welcome allies of the community and anyone who is accepting of queer people. This integration is difficult and something we struggle with. We don’t want everyone to know about our space because we will lose some comfort in that.
With more than 100 square meters of space, Równik is an ambitiously sized space in the heart of Toruń’s UNESCO World Heritage city center.1 The building the space is located in dates back to 1897 and is designed in the style of eclecticism. Between 1922 and 1939, a medical practice occupied the space, becoming apartments after WW2.2 The interior of the space has been preserved other than a few walls which were painted different colors and furniture which was brought into the space.
Having opened in 2021, Równik has rapidly grown into a hub for the queer youth of Toruń. It offers escapism from the not so distant realities such as the fact that the city is home to Radio Maryja, an ultra right-wing anti-queer radio station with 1 million daily listeners.3 You can find everything from Polish sign language courses, to a library, to psychological support services in the space. Równik is suffers from similar financial issues that other Polish queer spaces do. They opened with a plethora of funding the first couple years and have struggled to find additional funds.4 I interviewed Max and Oliwia, two Równik volunteers.
LRC: What age groups frequent Równik?
MŻ, OW: Day to day, it is mostly high schoolers, quite young people. When there is something happening like board games or a movie night, there is more of a range of ages. A problem that we run into is that there are not a lot of people above 21 who show up, and if they do, they end up leaving. When there is an event happening, we do have older people. Generally, we have more people when the weather is cold, because in the summer, people can go outside.
LRC: What kinds of activities and programs do you provide in the space?
MŻ, OW: Równik has now been operating for about 3-4 years—it hasn’t been that long but we have done a lot of work. We still provide free condoms. We have a psychologist that comes twice a month and you can sign up for an hour-long session for free. We had free lessons for Polish sign language at one time. We have bookbinding classes and workshops. The most important thing is that we provide a space where people can spend time together. We also provide shelter and food for people in need but not as much as we used to since we have limited funding. We also have support groups for trans people and women and non-binary people with autism. A year ago, we had two people, Dorota and Krzychow, who were in charge of opening and closing the place, they were here from 14pm-21pm. Now that we don’t have as much money, we have volunteers like Max who open the space.
LRC: Why are you located in this particular building and how have you been operating here?
MŻ, OW: There is no particular reason other than it doesn’t cost a lot to rent this space and the landlords do not have a problem with what we are doing. Our space is also located in the city center; it is quite large and has a balcony. SPR, the organization that runs Równik, was founded 14 years ago, but then four years ago, Równik was started and created here.
LRC: Have you had any acts of violence occur in your space?
MŻ, OW: We had a rainbow doormat, someone stole it, and burned it on the street in front of the Żabka grocery store. Once on this street, there was a Nazi demonstration and we could not cross the street to enter into our space. We once had someone come into our space who clearly had ill intentions; we make sure to keep the space locked at all times now. I think if we had a banner outside or a pride flag, it would cause problems. We don’t have anything on our front door that says we are located here except for one small doorbell.
LRC: How do most people find about Równik?
OW: From friends and through social media; I found out from a friend. I came here for the first lesson of sign language and I kept coming back after.
LRC: Tell me about the origin of the furniture in your space?
MŻ, OW: Some of the furniture came from the old office of SPR, some of it was donated, and some of it was found in the trash. When we were renovating the kitchen, we bought a lot of new furniture from IKEA. There are many books, it’s the same story with them, many were donated or found. This month we had a huge delivery of books because sometimes bookstores find out about us and send us books for free.
The tagline of the Toruń Equality Parade this year is “The Future is Non-binary,” would you say that Równik is accepting of non-binary individuals?
MŻ, OW: Yes, I am non-binary and we have a lot of nonbinary people who come to Równik; we are more than accepting. A couple of months ago, in a club called NRD, we threw a party to celebrate Równik and it was themed after nonbinary people. This years equality parade will also be themed after nonbinary people.
Kitchen | September 2023
LRC: How would you define a safe queer space?
MŻ, OW:
“A place where no one will discriminate or threaten you in any way due to your sexual orientation or gender identity. A space where you can be yourself.”
Even something as simple as the way people like to dress, most people here like to dress alternatively, here you can be yourself and get complements for this and not be made fun of. I’ve had many instances of people staring at me in Toruń and even once was chased on the street. Something as small as a man wearing pearls could be enough to get him assaulted. Someone will always say that something is not appropriate for your gender. We also live in so much fear, that we assume that somebody is coming for you, it’s unfair.
An outdoor protected space such as a balcony allows for people to enjoy nice weather.
Plenty of windows and natural light allow for people to have balanced mental and physical wellbeing.
The residential feel of the space allows for people to feel a sense of calmness and familiarity when entering the space
Above is one zone within the largest common area in Równik.
LRC: What are some of the architectural and social reasons as to why people feel safe in Równik?
MŻ: It probably varies from person to person but I would say it’s the cozy atmosphere in general, such as the bean bag chairs, available pillows and blankets, free tea and snacks. Also queer posters and artwork may reassure people that they are welcome here. There are friendly and helpful staff too.
LRC: Would you like to see queer spaces more integrated into Polish society or more separated?
OW: I would say a little bit of both. The really queer stuff could stay in the queer spaces such as drag. It would be nice if there was more recognition that other people exist.
“It would be nice if a business being open to queer people wasn’t a sign of braveness. We should be allowed to live in peace.”
Tarnowskie Centrum Równości is a queer community center located in Tarnów, Poland. It is the farthest south a queer space is located in the country. The director of the space describes it as an experiment in visibility in the Małopolska region. The space opened on April 20th, 2024 with funding from an ILGA Europe grant and guidance from the Krakowskie Centrum Równości in Kraków and the LGBTQ+ organization Tęczowy Tarnów. The success of the space is a perfect example of how community-based centers and organizations can work together to share their knowledge and insights—strengthening one another in the process.1
The need for a physical queer space in Tarnów grew out of the events that were hosted previously in the basement of a local bar. The basement was dark and wheelchair inaccessible; there were moments where patrons in wheelchairs had to be turned away and ones under 18 were not allowed in. These instances motivated the director of the space, Greta Pękała, to spend around six months in Kraków shadowing Krakowskie Centrum Równości. With Mateusz Gędźba’s help, Greta was able to learn how to organize events, reach out to the community, and apply for grants. With the funding secured, Greta was able to hire several contractors, including an electrician, plumber, and an architect to re-imagine the space from the pub and tattoo parlor it was before. With the help of the architect, the space was designed to be as accessible as possible with ramps and a generously sized bathroom with adjustable grab bars. The electrician installed new conduit and lighting that was much more inviting and installed switches as there were none previously. Volunteers helped paint the walls, patch holes, and install new tile.2
Teenagers frequent the space the most because as Greta tells me, they are the most vulnerable group of people that require support and community.3
They often still live with their parents and are not able to come out to them due to fear of backlash. Like many other smaller, conservative cities in Poland, Tarnów is experiencing a fast aging population as younger people move away for college and often do not move back after.4
The space was difficult to find in Tarnów as it had to be located in the city center so everyone could access it, on the ground level or have an elevator, and had to be affordable. This was one of only two spaces that they could find that met most of their requirements. The space comes with a troubled past as it sat empty for about seven months after the previous owner committed suicide but Greta is framing this new chapter of the space as a rebirth and a fresh start.5
As the center looks toward the future, funding will be the largest obstacle they will have to face once the grant money from ILGA ends. Greta tells me that it costs about 6,000 euros to operate the space per year. This level of funding is hard to obtain in Poland and highly competitive so applying for grants outside of Poland will be a top priority moving forward.6
They did, however; have support from Polish LGBTQ+ foundation Fundusz dla Odmiany for the creation of their first annual rainbow picnic, which took place four years ago. The rainbow picnic is an important event for the Tarnów queer community as it is their version of a pride parade. The community believes this is a more effective way of being publicly visible during the summer, as a Pride March would cause too much of a disturbance in the city and give the public another reason to dislike queer people. The picnic is an opportunity for the queer community to come together and share a meal in a public park in a casual way.7
This type of event also suits people who might not be as physically able to march long distances. Greta tells me that there have been multiple instances where people have walked past the picnic, stopped, had a conversation with attendees, and walked away with a different mindset. The picnic is changing the sentiment the public has about queer people in Tarnów.8
LRC: How would you define a safe queer space?
GP: For me I think it’s hard to describe it because there is no such thing as a safe space—it’s impossible to make anything 100% safe. I think about making it as safe as possible and for the space to be brave.
“I think about the space being visible for people to create representation—to create a movement—to destroy stereotypes. I also think about safety as to not out anybody—to not make assumptions—and to be open about
If someone is acting in a way that is not ok—your safety
kolor ścian powinien być zblizony do płytek
space but we are not sure if this is something that will ensure our safety. People might not like being recorded. In a psychological way, this is a bright open space; we are trying to make it as bright as possible—more colorful—more welcoming. You don’t have to spend any money to be here, which is also sometimes a problem for the queer community.
Directly above is an elevation that the late architect, Tomasz Witek, drew that depicts the bathroom layout. To the left is the plan of the bathroom, with callouts that speak to the accessible elements that make up the space.
“People want to come back here because they feel accepted the way they are. If they step through our doors, there is nobody who wants to hurt them. This is a place especially for them.”
Steel night doors and bars on the windows provide physical safety for the space.
Street visibility allows for people to organically pass by the space and learn about it.
Accessible bathroom elements such as movable grab bars and an adjustable mirror allow for individuals with varying abilities to feel welcome and seen.
Light and bright spaces allow for a dignified feeling, a huge departure from the previous dark basement space.
LRC: Do you wish to see queer space more integrated into Polish society or more separated?
GP: Tarnów Community Center is an experiment. We wanted to open this community center not only for queer people but also allies and for the general public.
It depends on the place, in some places, its better to have a safe bubble that is very hermetic. For other places like Kraków or Warsaw, I think its easier for them to be very open to the general public. It’s a constant struggle between wanting to have this space for ourselves or giving it to people who are not our target audience. I think creating a space where both groups could participate—to educate each other and make relationships between one another–would be successful. We actually had a few interactions like this here, where someone saw our event happening and decided to come in here. This space can give the feeling of being visible not only for queer people but also for the public. I think it’s an important thing to do—to open this space up in this way.
Below is the accessible bathroom. The movable grab bars and mirror next to the sink are visible.
Filip Kijowski’s personal connection with the queer community in Lublin is one of the main reasons for Biblioteka Azyl’s success. He is able to make decisions with the best interest of the community in mind since he shares their lived experiences. He brings a unique perspective with his background in dance and choreography and every aspect of this training is reverberated into the activities in the space. There is a level of calmness and ease you experience when becoming a participant in the space. Simple steps like practicing deep listening and organizing people in a circle of chairs is choreographic in nature and creates a horizontal room structure where everyone has an equal chance of participating. The architecture of the space fosters safety as well through tall ceilings and a bright open space that is subdivided into smaller, intimate social spaces with donated sofas, chairs, and book cases. In this example, one person’s strong volition to give back to the community was the spark that allowed this space to flourish.
The main reason why people who attend Dom EQ in Kraków feel safe in the space is the residential and domestic feel of it. A residential space feels familiar and comfortable unlike an office space for example. It’s located inside a house that was converted into a social gathering space. However, having the space located in a house isn’t all it takes to make it feel familiar. The furniture and decor on the walls in Dom EQ are warm, there are wooden tones throughout the space such as with the ceilings and stairs. Accessibility was a large factor during the remodeling of the space—to make sure they designed and built a bathroom that was large enough for individuals in wheelchairs. Physical safety mechanisms include double pane windows and a low wall surrounding the site, but these elements were not intentional, but rather already existed when the space was formed. However, these elements did help to prevent further damage when a rock was thrown through one of the street facing windows. Having both indoor and outdoor gathering spaces is also a benefit, especially in a post-pandemic world with a person’s level of comfortability being around large groups of people. Finally, the division between public and private space is important as the more private spaces such as the psychological support room are located upstairs in the loft.
BAZA’s success with regards to patron comfortability lies first with creating a rule for no alcohol consumption inside the space. Secondly, as Ulla Prussak outlined in our interview, allowing people to be themselves by not intruding into their lives and not asking too many questions about what they are doing there. Another social aspect of inclusion within the space is their strong support and opportunities they give to refugees and migrants from countries such as Ukraine and Syria. Architecturally, the bright rooms and tall ceilings create an inviting atmosphere. The art on the walls were created in the space from various workshops hosted over time and from local Warsaw-based artists, this creates a familiar atmosphere. The division between public and private is interesting as there are spaces for everyone depending on their level of comfortability. There is a movable wall on the upper level that can be pulled across the room to divide it into two smaller rooms, and a more private room off to the side can be closed off completely from the larger space with curtains and a door. Large windows on the ground floor and smaller windows on the upper level, also create zones of comfortability. There is a level of flexibility in this space that is unique to BAZA. Lastly, this space is very visible, having a street-facing entrance off of a major Warsaw boulevard just blocks from the city center, everyone is welcome.
Otwarty Parasol is the most physically secluded space of all I studied and visited. In the context of Białystok, this
makes sense given the troubling and violent events that LGBTQ+ people endured, particularly in 2018. The founders of the space made a calculated decision to have the space located away from the city center and in an apartment building a few floors above the ground floor. They do not publicly post the location of the space anywhere online, and only give it out by invitation. There is no signage anywhere on the building that would suggest that Otwarty Parasol is located in that particular building. The space itself is small and intimate, which creates a level of social comfortability. The space might be small, but it feels bright and open, which is aided by its contemporary design. Lastly, the founders of the space took the time and care to make sure individuals with neurodiversity feel accommodated in the space through the use of color, furniture, sound, and activities.
While being located in the historic city center of Toruń, Równik is still relatively secluded as the space is located above the ground floor and has no identifying signage on the exterior. Równik suffers from similar funding issues that other Polish queer spaces have, the space launched with a significant grant but has struggled to win additional funding. People feel safe and comfortable spending time in the space because of the cozy residential feel, comfortable furniture such as bean bag chairs and pillows, tea and snacks being offered to guests, posters and artwork on the walls that was made by people who frequent the space, and friendly and helpful staff
Despite being a relatively new location, Tarnowskie Centrum Równości has quickly established itself as a space that is experimenting with the line between safety and visibility. Its location in a small, conservative city in the south of Poland would suggest that being hidden and obscured would be their highest priority, similar to Otwarty Parasol, but the opposite is the case. The space is very visible, and located on the street-level in the historic city center of Tarnów. This level of visibility has worked out in their favor, and has attracted many curious passersby who stop inside to learn about what goes on in their space. This visibility has begun to change the opinions of people in the city who before would have likely dismissed queer people as a pathology. Similarly, with the annual queer picnic they host, I strongly believe, through subversive visibility and education, this is the way to begin build broader acceptance of LGBTQ+ individuals in Poland. There are physical mechanisms of safety in the space such as bars on the windows and doors but those were not an intentional decision, they already existed before. I applaud the time and care spent on making sure individuals in wheelchairs have a dignified experience in the space and their cooperation with an architect with this effort.
To stay resilient in the face of financial instability, queer spaces should pool resources together, especially if they are located nearby or in the same city. Polish grants for queer spaces are scarce and difficult to win, so often these spaces apply for grants from other countries such as the US, Germany, and Norway. For resource pooling, an act as simple as sharing resources for grant applications with another space can be incredibly helpful, such as with how Dom EQ helped Tarnowskie Centrum Równości. There are two main funding strategies for queer spaces in Poland, one is by way of grants and city funds and the other is by way of selling food and merchandise for a profit. A few spaces such as BAZA and Dom EQ are trying a combination of both strategies. With regards to safety and visibility, across the board, you will recognize a range of visibility and safety mechanism levels depending on the context. The most visible space being BAZA in Warsaw and the least visible being Otwarty Parasol in Białystok, correlating to the level of hostility queer people have experienced in those cities. Architectural elements such as tall ceilings, flexibility, bright spaces, a residential atmosphere, and the organization of furniture can help individuals feel comfort. I was deeply struck by the way Tarnowskie Centrum Równości is conducting activism in Tarnów. I strongly believe a subversive and mild approach to activism, that is rooted in education, is the way to garner LGBTQ+ acceptance among the Polish population, particularly in smaller communities.
1. Ludwiszewska, Marta. “Ilustracja & Projektowanie.” Martiszucom, 2020, martiszu.com/.
Introduction:
1. Rostkowski-Covington, Lucjan and Lex Chomczyk. “Interview with Lex Chomczyk.” 8. Dec. 2024
2. Buzz, Inclusive. “Przemarsz z Bazy Do Komuny Warszawa.” Instagram, 2 Mar. 2024, www.instagram.com/ baza.inclusive/.
1. Rostkowski-Covington, Lucjan, and Filip Kijowski. “Interview with Filip Kijowski.” 30 Aug. 2023.
2. Brzeziński, Bartosz. “Picnics and Prayers: Poland’s Ruling Conservatives Push to Win the Countryside.” POLITICO, POLITICO, 31 Aug. 2023, www.politico.eu/article/poland-conservatives-win-countryside-agriculture-election/.
3. Tatarczuk, Waldemar. “O Nas.” Galeria Labirynt, 20 Sept. 2021, labirynt.com/o-nas/?lang=en.
4. Rostkowski-Covington, Lucjan, and Filip Kijowski. “Interview with Filip Kijowski.” 30 Aug. 2023.
5. Ibid.
1. Rostkowski-Covington, Lucjan, and Mateusz Gędźba. “Interview with Mateusz Gędźba.” 10 Sept. 2023.
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid.
4. Ibid.
5. Ibid.
6. Ibid.
1. Rostkowski-Covington, Lucjan, and Ulla Prussak. “Interview with Ulla Prussak.” 30 July. 2023.
2. Ibid.
Images:
1. Buzz, Inclusive. “Przemarsz z Bazy Do Komuny Warszawa.” Instagram, 2 Mar. 2024, www.instagram.com/ baza.inclusive/.
2. Buzz, Inclusive. “Hej, mamy prośbę do Was wszystkich.” Instagram, 17 Mar. 2024, www.instagram.com/baza. inclusive/.
3. Sara, Sam. “Projekty.” Sam Sara Acid Notes, 2023, samsaraacidnotes.wixsite.com/website.
1. John, Tara, and Muhammad Darwish. “Polish City Holds First LGBTQ Pride Parade despite Far-Right Violence.” CNN, Cable
2. Estimates put the number of police officers at around 700. Amnesty International, “Poland: Inadequate police protection for BIAŁYSTOK march amidst anti-LGBTI hate”, 22 July 2019, https://www.amnesty.org/en/documents/ eur37/0775/2019/en/. News Network, 21 July 2019, https://www.cnn.com/2019/07/21/europe/bialystokpolish-lgbtq-pride-intl.
3. Rostkowski-Covington, Lucjan, Radek Dulewicz, and Piotr Trochimczyk. “Interview with Radek Dulewicz and Piotr Trochimczyk.” 13. Sept. 2023
4. Rostkowski-Covington, Lucjan and Lex Chomczyk. “Interview with Lex Chomczyk.” 8. Dec. 2024
5. Ibid.
6. Ibid.
7. Ibid.
8. Ibid.
1. Centre, UNESCO World Heritage. “Medieval Town of Toruń.” UNESCO World Heritage Centre, 1997, whc. unesco.org/en/list/835.
2. Stocka, Marzenna. Zabytek.Pl, 10 Dec. 1991, zabytek.pl/pl/obiekty/torun-kamienica-269400/dokumenty/ PL.1.9.ZIPOZ.NID_N_04_EN.336420/1.
3. Scally, Derek Scally. “Vatican Warns Polish Catholic Fundamentalist Radio Station.” The Irish Times, The Irish Times, 7 Apr. 2006, www.irishtimes.com/news/vatican-warns-polish-catholic-fundamentalist-radio-station-1.1035146.
4. Rostkowski-Covington, Lucjan, Maxine Żołtowska and Oliwia Wydra . “Interview with Maxine Żołtowska and Oliwia Wydra.” 18 Aug. 2023
Images:
1. Zaparucha, Ola. 29 Sep. 2012. Accessed 5 Dec. 2024.
2. Stocka, Marzenna. Zabytek.Pl, 10 Dec. 1991, zabytek.pl/pl/obiekty/torun-kamienica-269400/dokumenty/
PL.1.9.ZIPOZ.NID_N_04_EN.336420/1.
Tarnowskie Centrum Równości:
1. Rostkowski-Covington, Lucjan and Greta Pękała. “Interview with Greta Pękała.” 23 June. 2024.
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid.
4. Ibid.
5. Ibid.
6. Ibid.
7. Ibid.
8. Ibid.
Images:
1. Witek, Tomasz. 2024. Accessed 2024.
2. Ibid.
Thank you