By MELISSA KAREN SANCES
For the Valley Advocate
Glitter. Sparkle. Bedazzle. Shine.
When Mara Levi and Nova Wehman-Brown started dreaming of a Winter Ball, these four words came to mind. The executive director and the board president of the Queer Joy Collaborative wanted their inaugural event to be magical.
But it also had to be tactical. Because as 2024 came to a close, queer joy was not a given.
The incoming administration is transphobic. Project 2025’s “mandate for leadership” doesn’t acknowledge LGBTQIA+ individuals or their relationships. “Families comprised of a married mother, father, and their children are the foundation of a well-ordered nation and healthy society,” state the authors, some of whom have been nominated for key positions in Trump’s cabinet. So as Levi and Wehman-Brown booked the venue, got the deejay, and sold the tickets, four more words gleamed like precious gems:
Safety. Community. Vulnerability. Resistance.
Last Saturday, Dec. 21, nearly 250 queer folks danced the night away at what for many children of the ’80s and ’90s was like a second prom. “What if I could have been this free and comfortable when I was that age?” asks Levi, who grew up in Ohio and now lives in Northampton. “What would that have been like, to imagine a prom without parameters?” And even as the next generation faces its own challenges, Levi and Wehman-Brown delighted in inviting their kids to dance the night away.
“When you create that space for them, you also create a lot of room for healing and repair for us,” says Wehman-Brown. “They’re able to see what joy looks like in the queer community: It’s whatever makes you feel alive.”
From chorus to collaborative
The highlight of the event, which took place at 33 Hawley, was the performance by the Queer Joy Chorus, a 55-member choir led by Levi. The group originated in 2018 at the Northampton Community Music Center as the Pride Chorus, which Levi helmed until it became clear to them that music was a starting point, rather than an end goal, of building community. Wehman-Brown joined the chorus in 2022 after moving to Amherst from California, and soon began brainstorming with Levi about what would become the Queer Joy Collaborative.
“This space that Mara created makes it okay for people to be really vulnerable,” says Wehman-Brown. “That is hard to do. We realized there is a deep, deep need in our community for spaces to feel vulnerable. When you’re able to feel safe around people, you’re also able to feel joy. That feels very important, especially right now.”
Levi, who has worked as a music teacher, collaborator and performer for the past 20 years, established the chorus as a democratic space defined by one rule: “You can’t make fun of other people.”
“You don’t have to be a trained singer; you don’t even have to be a singer,” explains Wehman-Brown. “If you just want to be in a room with a bunch of queers making pretty noises — if you choose to be in the room with us, you belong there.”
Last summer, Levi, Wehman-Brown and five future board members connected virtually via a “dreaming and scheming white board,” where they imagined karaoke nights, craft afternoons, a kids’ chorus, and even notary clinics. The Queer Joy Collaborative became an official nonprofit three months ago, which they promptly celebrated with the Winter Ball.
Community service
As they look ahead to 2025, the organization’s top brass draws inspiration from family. Levi credits their wife, Leigh-Ellen, for being “a catalyst for me to really consider what is my truth, not just the truth of the culture I’m in.” Wehman-Brown’s father spent his life in the theatre, performing in “Hair,” an ode to freedom inspired by the Vietnam War, and inviting his gay roommates to their weekly family dinners. Ahead of the election in November, her spouse, Grover, who is trans, became a notary to show up for the queer community in a changing political climate.
“This is so important right now because many people feel intense pressure to quickly get their documents in order so that they can do things like legally change their name, change their birth certificate, or secure their parental rights through second-parent adoption,” says Grover Wehman-Brown, who notes that while getting notarized is a legal formality, it’s also extremely personal. They changed their name 15 years ago “under conditions where people at various desks were not allies or friends,” so they are familiar with the stakes. “It’s exhausting to walk in and not know what’s going to happen.”
On Sunday, Jan. 5, the collaborative will host a notary clinic from 12 to 3 p.m. at Click Workspace in Northampton. Registration is required, and while the clinic is free, donations are accepted.
“I am so excited that the Queer Joy Collaborative exists,” says Grover Wehman-Brown. “We are facing really difficult times but we can take care of each other as best we can — no one is taking that away from us.”
Honoring joy
Other events on the horizon include a performance by the Queer Joy Chorus at First Night, an open rehearsal for the Kids’ Chorus on Jan. 13, and a mystery writing intensive on Feb. 15, all in Northampton. And, of course, the highly anticipated second annual Winter Ball.
In the meantime, Levi and Wehman-Brown are steeling themselves with a smile: “The joy is the one thing they cannot take from us,” says Levi. “They can make it really [expletive] hard for us to walk down the street, but they cannot stop us from laughing.”
For more information about the Queer Joy Collaborative, visit queerjoycollaborative.org.
Melissa Karen Sances lives in western Mass, where she writes stories about extraordinary people. Reach her at melissaksances@gmail.com.