Worthie Meacham, a 58-year-old gay man who has been a Disneyland passholder since the 80s, said the parks’ safety has long been part of their appeal. “As a young gay man, it was hard to find a place where I felt safe,” he says. “I could go to Disneyland and I knew that I wouldn’t be harassed for being gay... if I was I could go to security and they would do something about it. You just don’t find that type of safety or security in other places in Southern California.”

It’s probably not news to you that the world can be fairly cruel to LGBTQ+ people. Legal discrimination, homelessness, familial rejection, employment discrimination, etc. etc. etceeeteeeerugh.

“Having lived through years of gay bashing, the AIDS epidemic, and all the negativity that comes across towards the gay community, it’s kind of beautiful to walk into a place where you can leave that behind," says Paul Girard.

But Disney’s theme parks do their best to use design and urban planning to distract from the problems of the real world. They’re hyper-engineered to create an environment that’s as pleasant as possible, altering and improving upon the horrible, boring reality of life outside their walls to be a little more palatable. Waterways are dyed to be a more appealing color, ugly things are painted in a shade that makes them hard to notice, and the parks’ Main Streets are still American “Main Streets” that have yet to be decimated by the opening of a Walmart. Because of local zoning restrictions that prevent building anything over a certain height within half a mile of Disneyland, you can't even see the outside world from within most of the park.

“There’s the whole thing of ‘happily ever after’ and ‘fantasies come true,’” says Paul Girard, a gay Disneyland annual passholder who lives near LA. “Having lived through years of gay bashing, the AIDS epidemic, and all the negativity that comes across towards the gay community, it’s kind of beautiful to walk into a place where you can leave that behind.”

“I love the break from reality I get from a Disney holiday,” says Moross. “Two weeks spent wandering around the parks, floating in a lazy river, drinking frozen beverages and eating tasty snacks. Everything is easy, planned, and predictable.“

“Without queer people, we wouldn’t have Beauty and the Beast, we wouldn’t have The Lion King, we wouldn’t have the monorail or [the] Haunted Mansion," says Ted Abenheim.

Ted Abenheim, a 69-year-old gay man in West LA, says that he views Disneyland as a kind of LGBTQ+ monument given the number of queer people that worked to bring it to life.

“Bob Gurr is so great… He is one of the original people that was there at the beginning of the park and helped create some of the iconic vehicles and everything. To find out he’s gay is like: yes!” Abenheim explains, referring to the legendary engineer who worked on many of the park’s attractions, including the monorail, Autopia, and the Haunted Mansion. “Without queer people, we wouldn’t have Beauty and the Beast, we wouldn’t have The Lion King, we wouldn’t have the monorail or [the] Haunted Mansion,” adds Abenheim. (The 1994 version of The Lion King prominently features the work of Nathan Lane and Elton John).

I spoke with Gurr about his time working for Disney, which lasted over 30 years. He tells me that both Disneyland and the theme park industry at large attract a lot of queer employees. “You look at the general nature of a theme park like Disneyland,” he says. “Those are happy days. And [LGBTQ+ people would] rather be in a happy day than in a high-paid engineering job making munitions to kill people.”

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