Lefty was a racist skinhead; she beat up gays and spewed antisemitic bile. She was also Black, and a lesbian. Now that she's gone, the only question is: Why did I like her?
A friend of mine messaged me this evening, " Do you remember Lefty?" My reply, "Yup, how could you forget?" And how could you? She was such an icon of that DC, those times, a deep conundrum. Every encounter with her felt like barely eluded violence for sheer proximity. Thank you for this tender tribute. I never could understand but it had to be such a relentless rejection of herself that drove her. RIP Kendall.
Thanks for this, in every way. I spoke recently with a figurehead of that scene about Lefty. He said, with characteristic bluntness: "She just couldn't love herself." RIP.
RIP Lefty. She stuck up for me one time when some gross dude was following me and pestering me near Dupont Circle. It was late, streets were mostly empty, and I was just leaving a shift at Cafe Rabelais, where I worked. This was an odd contrast to the many times I had witnessed her starting fights and bullying pretty much everyone (sometimes she even turned against those white skinhead boys who idolized her).
As a not yet out gay person myself in the mid ‘80’s, she always was intriguing to me because she was so very butch; I was drawn to her and felt a kinship. But she was so unpredictable. It never felt safe to try to befriend her.
I’m glad to know that someone who had history w her was by her side in her final hours.
I wish I could make it to her memorial today. Thanks for sharing this, Seth. I also sent this to my little brother, who she frequently beat the shit out of and stole things from 😂.
What a brilliant piece, Seth. This isn’t a scene or a person I knew, but I felt every bit of it. So evocative and moving—and complex, as was she, it sounds. She was sure unique, and yet I’m reminded of people I knew growing up in LA who were charismatic and violent… so easy to dismiss as one thing. What I like most is how much of her story you’re telling here. Really glad to have found your work.
Oh, Seth, I love this piece. I love the searching for understanding, the tenderness in people that allows them to recognize tenderness and others even when it’s hidden. Thank you for sharing.
I never had a violent encounter with Lefty but I saw quite a few of them. She walked up to me at the 9:30 once and told me I had a pretty face and I said I’d always thought they same of her and then she smiled and I am probably imagining that it was almost shy and then she kept walking and beat up
Some poor motherfucker who was just minding his own business. RIP Spike
I first read about Lefty in the Banned In DC book when it first came out in the U.K. I was fascinated by the DCHC scene and loved Minor Threat , Faith and G.I. and studied the photos of the bands and the crowds looking for clues about how kids dressed . I was kinda stunned reading about her and baffled too but understood that misplaced rage that gravitates towards scenes that have an intense soundtrack and tough veneer.
I loved the description of how you both first met - my guess is that survivors intuitively understand each other . I've had so many experiences like this encountering people in crazy circumstances...like being surrounded by neo- nazi skinheads and avoiding a major ass kicking but that's another story .
Thanks for sharing another beautiful story, Seth. I met Lefty just once at Food for Thought. I was at the counter waiting to pay, wearing the WWII bomber jacket my father was pleased I liked and happily gave me. I had painted on back in white, pale blue, and black, a symbol I’d seen somewhere— I think it was an inverted triangle intertwined with snakes? Anyway, Lefty came over to ask me about it. I told her I just thought it looked cool. She said, “it’s an Aryan symbol” and walked away. Did I get an eye roll for my cluelessness? There was certainly nothing more. I kinda still feel the embarrassment of my cluelessness, about what I’d done to my father’s jacket; was grateful to Letfy for cutting its debut so short.
Funny, I painted on my father's Army jacket (and quickly regretted doing so). I wonder now if Lefty was being truthful with you, or just yanking your chain....
A friend of mine messaged me this evening, " Do you remember Lefty?" My reply, "Yup, how could you forget?" And how could you? She was such an icon of that DC, those times, a deep conundrum. Every encounter with her felt like barely eluded violence for sheer proximity. Thank you for this tender tribute. I never could understand but it had to be such a relentless rejection of herself that drove her. RIP Kendall.
Thanks for this, in every way. I spoke recently with a figurehead of that scene about Lefty. He said, with characteristic bluntness: "She just couldn't love herself." RIP.
RIP Lefty. She stuck up for me one time when some gross dude was following me and pestering me near Dupont Circle. It was late, streets were mostly empty, and I was just leaving a shift at Cafe Rabelais, where I worked. This was an odd contrast to the many times I had witnessed her starting fights and bullying pretty much everyone (sometimes she even turned against those white skinhead boys who idolized her).
As a not yet out gay person myself in the mid ‘80’s, she always was intriguing to me because she was so very butch; I was drawn to her and felt a kinship. But she was so unpredictable. It never felt safe to try to befriend her.
I’m glad to know that someone who had history w her was by her side in her final hours.
I wish I could make it to her memorial today. Thanks for sharing this, Seth. I also sent this to my little brother, who she frequently beat the shit out of and stole things from 😂.
Ugh. Thank YOU. It was so confusing trying to decipher the theater of the punk scene. And what damage we do when we don't love ourselves.
Yes! The damage we do when we don’t love ourselves. Exactly.
Beautiful story about the complex layers of humanity and vulnerability that underlie acts of violence - thank you Seth!
Ah, thank YOU, friend!
I loved this recollection. What a liberating gift for the both of you: to forgive, and be forgiven.
What a brilliant piece, Seth. This isn’t a scene or a person I knew, but I felt every bit of it. So evocative and moving—and complex, as was she, it sounds. She was sure unique, and yet I’m reminded of people I knew growing up in LA who were charismatic and violent… so easy to dismiss as one thing. What I like most is how much of her story you’re telling here. Really glad to have found your work.
Hey, thank YOU Rob. What a gift. Glad it touched something in you.
Oh, Seth, I love this piece. I love the searching for understanding, the tenderness in people that allows them to recognize tenderness and others even when it’s hidden. Thank you for sharing.
Ah, thank YOU, friend! Truly. Appreciate the readership and the reflection....
I never had a violent encounter with Lefty but I saw quite a few of them. She walked up to me at the 9:30 once and told me I had a pretty face and I said I’d always thought they same of her and then she smiled and I am probably imagining that it was almost shy and then she kept walking and beat up
Some poor motherfucker who was just minding his own business. RIP Spike
Oh man. So many bizarre juxtapositions. And also: Maybe not so bizarre after all. Thank you for sharing this.
I first read about Lefty in the Banned In DC book when it first came out in the U.K. I was fascinated by the DCHC scene and loved Minor Threat , Faith and G.I. and studied the photos of the bands and the crowds looking for clues about how kids dressed . I was kinda stunned reading about her and baffled too but understood that misplaced rage that gravitates towards scenes that have an intense soundtrack and tough veneer.
Feel this. It was SO confusing. I recall discussing Lefty's mini-skinhead army with friends, asking: "Don't they know she's Black?!?"
I loved the description of how you both first met - my guess is that survivors intuitively understand each other . I've had so many experiences like this encountering people in crazy circumstances...like being surrounded by neo- nazi skinheads and avoiding a major ass kicking but that's another story .
Ha! Maybe that's one you should write!
Thanks for sharing another beautiful story, Seth. I met Lefty just once at Food for Thought. I was at the counter waiting to pay, wearing the WWII bomber jacket my father was pleased I liked and happily gave me. I had painted on back in white, pale blue, and black, a symbol I’d seen somewhere— I think it was an inverted triangle intertwined with snakes? Anyway, Lefty came over to ask me about it. I told her I just thought it looked cool. She said, “it’s an Aryan symbol” and walked away. Did I get an eye roll for my cluelessness? There was certainly nothing more. I kinda still feel the embarrassment of my cluelessness, about what I’d done to my father’s jacket; was grateful to Letfy for cutting its debut so short.
Funny, I painted on my father's Army jacket (and quickly regretted doing so). I wonder now if Lefty was being truthful with you, or just yanking your chain....
😅🤣