In the early hours of June 2, Greymouth’s pink church – a home and performing arts venue known as Gloria – was vandalised with homophobic and antisemitic graffiti. Gloria’s owner, artist and poet Sam Duckor-Jones, relates what happened next.
I have always preferred to live alone
I don’t wish to share anybody’s bed
I can happily end a busy day without having spoken a single word
I like it
I like it like this
I also like to be flamboyantly queer
I have a daily desire to twirl in a pink satin robe
I require a wide floor & a high high ceiling
I do not wish to go clubbing
I have a sense of myself
I am almost 40
I can do things. So in October 2021
I moved into the former St Andrews church in Blaketown, Greymouth. Because
I also like nature & the West Coast of Aotearoa has a lot of it. Here in this derelict building
I have a wide rimu floor & a 15 foot stud
I have the sound of the surf filling the air as fully as anything else omniscient
I have the damp cliffs illuminated nightly by electric blue revelations
I have a place to twirl
I am happy & alone
I set about painting the building pink, inside & out
I named her
I commissioned a pink neon sign in a flouncy hand to hang above the altar: Gloria
I draped the windows in pink organza & tulle
I strung pink beads from this & that
I placed plastic flowers: here & here
I put on my robe & a little mascara & twirled & felt very good & whole
I got a couple of part time jobs
I made friends, they come by, say hello
I muddle along as Gloria’s glow, her reputation & mission of quiet campery spreads across the world
I am often overwhelmed by press attention. But
I am glad that the project is so loved. Especially by folks here in Greymouth. So it was a great
disappointment to find that she had been attacked early last Friday morning as I slept inside.
All along her light pink sides were homophobic & antisemitic signs & words &
messages along with christian symbols & scripture & a burned rainbow flag out the front.
It was frightening. I was all alone. My family & all of
my old heart friends are still up north. I am all alone. I
phoned the police & they turned up quickly & took
the hate crime seriously. Am I all alone. I phoned some new
local friends, a little apologetically. Word spread then & folks showed
up in droves. With flowers & cards & hugs & tears & support & outrage
Gloria’s pink icing flanks were restored by noon
We sat on her paint spattered floor. We ate sandwiches
We caught each other’s eyes & crinkled a bit & looked away
We checked our phones & said so & so & so & so & so & so just heard
We gathered again that evening for a visit from Taranaki drag royalty
We wore our highest heels & our glitteriest jackets & our eyes clashed well with our lips.
We sang & laughed & twirled & went to bed at a reasonable hour
We did the same thing the next night & the night after that
We continued to be vividly outraged &
We continued to be queerly defiant &
We put on our silk robes & our big hats & our gumboots &
We watched the sun go down & the glorious coast was lit up as pink as a lullaby &
We twirled.