Just how political can a drenched shirt from dancing in the tropics truly be? If all the spiritual lift we need is in our sensory physical self, then dancing politics is the way lesbian-forward. Politics always means who gets what, and when, plus where, and, eventually, how we get what we got. The why is ever implied in human dignity for the right to party with purpose.

What’s the what is a woman-centric dance fiesta and on a Saturday afternoon is when; that is, a September 13, 2025 day for Kona Pride—the LGBT+ way to celebrate existence. Where be us? At Lava Java on Ali’i Drive in Kailua-Kona is the social justice where we git going. The how in lesbian politics is oneness—one sings, one organizes, one dances, one serves, one welcomes, one deejays, one expertises, one kisses, one hugs, one shouts, one embraces, one armwaves, one rests, one observes, one writes, and every one counts.

Before the evening began, one she named Lez Come Together, visionary Kellegreen placed her hand on her heart and circled all volunteers to bless the sacred in the right here, right now. A meditative consciousness skillfully marshalling inspired, gathered lesbians for witness that a dance extravaganza is political, especially in a historical era where our government reduces basic human freedoms, because the what, when, where, and how of our existence was so fantastically visible in the present moment. Then we opened the doors to a lively crowded crowd, nearly 100 consciously deciding to be there.

Women in skirts, dresses, khakis, baseball caps, slippahs, shorts, baggy, tight, cropped hair, flowing hair, t-shirts, brafull, braless, masculine, feminine, androgynous, flowery shirt sleeves, no sleeves, younger, older, midlifer, tall, thin, petite, wide girth, Asian, African American, Caucasian, Hispanic, Pacific Islander, Hawaiian and more in this communal reality. A liminal abundance of American politics carefree on the dance floor, a moment in time to signify how a social will happens, creating spiritual overflow of reciprocity—love vibes immersing all in attendance equally.

Spoken at the mic was acknowledgment that the word America is a misnomer for lands sovereign to Native Hawaiians as the Hawaii islands are in spirit and energy today despite other signings of papers historically. Kellegreen’s activism for indigenous and aboriginal rights since 1998 was demonstrated in word and welcome. Kanaka maoli women took to the dance floor, a meaningful presence on Hawai’i lands that many claim as sovereign still.

What was not there speaks to consciousness raising. No bar fights occurred. Instead, plenty refilled ice-water pitchers were at the ready. Even so, many women in an active crowd hovered at the alcohol-serving bar and mingled throughout the room appreciating libations. Simply not excessively. A woman-centric energy let loose for sure, a going-wild thoughtfully. The night traveled in a relational direction given how carefully planned the event was. Starting early around 5 p.m. and later the floor lights signaling brightly a departure time at 8 30 p.m. Hawaii Central Time—we had been dancing nonstop for three hours, an ecstatic wave of lesbian bodies in motion to celebrate that we women are alive and thriving. Not a taken for granted ethos, ever.

What was also not there is a mainland 1950s bar scene where women furtively held on to each other in dark, shadowy corners deciding whether to leave early before the police evicted lesbians for being so. Lesbian political oneness still had momentum then but how far we have evolved. On this September 13, 2025 the evening had a wide-open floor plan for tables and sitting and space to catalyze joy, hope, and freedom. Si, se puede. (Yes, one can.) Tropical air filtered through the open-windows throughout the upper-level restaurant interior. We could see a brilliant dark-orange sunset fall on the ocean horizon. Right across the street is where Pacific Ocean waters kept misting the air with an earthy, salty perfume.

From where I was standing at the front door welcoming folks into the room, I had privilege to usher in diversity. One family arrived later in the evening, the father and mother hesitantly stood there while their teenage daughter continued observing the sapphic crowd. She appeared peaceful. Her parents less so and I gently encouraged them to join. But the family left and I applauded that the event had given their daughter the next generation chance to simply be in the know. We are here.

Being indigenous to a culture is being grassrooted in her ways. Witnessing the lesbian female body as sacred, deserving of fun, is such a way. A singing network of connections, a body politic of love as entrepreneurial spirit. We work to support each other. And Off the Grid Productions donated a sound system; and a gifted dancer set up her dancing pole, inspiring through her athletic elegance for other women to try; and DJ Janeyyy kept the music spinning a lively dance electricity; and the Dizzy Diamond Duo talented the musical night with singing, ukulele playing, and drumming. One evening’s experience of the word and—as in and this and that and more. One song the Dizzy Diamond Duo played for two women dancing at the floor’s center, a reserved space to honor their partnership and the crowd had those hoots and hollers when the couple shared a celebratory kiss.

While performing Matisyahu’s song “One Day,” Kellegreen revealed a t-shirt that read no one is free until we are all free. An inspiring dance beat had the crowd on her feet clapping and joining justice lyrics: “One day, this all will change / treat people the same / stop with the violence / down with the hate / one day, we'll all be free and proud to be / under the same sun / singin' songs of freedom.” Kellegreen’s t-shirt also made obvious her conviction: One Day Is Today. Let’s take a stand and find our dance floors, my people. A feminist adage always holds true that the personal is political.