By Paul A. Tenkotte, PhD
Special to NKyTribune
Researching the history of minoritized groups in the United States is difficult, for several reasons. First, minorities are seldom considered essential — much less desirable — components of the dominant culture. Rather, the positive talents and achievements of excluded groups are often ignored to bolster the false façade of a unified national culture.
Conversely, slight infractions or rejections of cultural norms by marginalized groups are sometimes distorted and exaggerated by media, politicians, and society at large to justify longstanding and resilient frameworks. Scholars call this erasure of a minoritized culture’s achievements “symbolic annihilation.” Others call it “cognitive bias,” that is, “cherry picking” evidence to support questionable and often baseless claims.
Second, dominant groups wielding power and political control will sometimes seek to intensify their biases by actively engaging in misinformation campaigns. Ignoring demographic, scientific, sociological, or historical evidence, they will purposely depict others as inferior or somehow less than human. This is followed by the denying or abridging of civil rights to the already subordinated groups, thereby magnifying differences.
In the United States in 2026, misinformation campaigns include the politicization of words like “diversity, equity, and inclusion,” as well as the erasure of the history of minoritized communities from school curriculums and museums. A couple of years ago, for instance, while visiting a museum in the state of Georgia, I was dismayed when a Black reenactor of an enslaved person claimed—in an obviously redacted and revised script—that “The master wasn’t all that bad. I never saw him beating or abusing any slaves.” Notice the subtleties of such revisionist history.
Pointing out that some enslavers refrained from additional cruelty is an evasive and ultimately meaningless conclusion, crafted to divert attention from the real issue — the very act of claiming ownership over human beings was already a profound moral outrage in the antebellum era, condemned on timeless grounds of inhumanity, not on whether the enslaver compounded the abuse. Erasure of truthful history that makes someone somewhere feel somewhat uncomfortable is insipidly justified as not offending anyone, not presumably causing “division,” and hence, not capable of teaching lessons. In such a framework, “lessons” are regarded as subjective, not objective, to be avoided rather than encouraged.
Third, the dehumanization of marginalized and underrepresented groups has historically led to some of humanity’s most egregious and horrendous acts of genocide. For example, millions of Jews, Roma, and homosexuals were systematically murdered by Hitler’s Nazi Germany in the Holocaust. Holocaust denial — seemingly incomprehensible — becomes predictable in this framework as people permit their own “cognitive dissonance” to reject anything that interferes with their intransigent perspectives. Admitting that we might be wrong is difficult for us as human beings.
Author Jacob Hogue — in the midst of yet another sad revival of American politicians’ hackneyed attempts to escalate the culture wars — has undertaken a courageous and scholarly achievement. In “Cincinnati Before Stonewall: The Untold Queer History of the Queen City” (Charleston, SC: The History Press, 2026), Hogue has overcome the many challenges facing marginalized group history by combing through newspapers of the 1800s and 1900s.
His efforts have successfully led to the rediscovery and reclamation of the region’s lost LGBTQ+ history. This is difficult and detailed research that many historians avoid. However, Jacob Hogue is an assiduous researcher, whose pastime is literally flipping through digitized newspapers, searching for nuggets of historical information. His skills of analysis and synthesis enable him to piece together the puzzle of minoritized groups. Then, in easy-to-read and flowing prose, Hogue unravels a story punctuated by prejudice, violence, hope, and optimism, tracing LGBTQ history in Cincinnati and Northern Kentucky from 1820 to 1969, the year of the pivotal Stonewall Riots in New York City.
Hogue begins his study with an introduction that is informative, spirited, and insightful, all the while reclaiming gay ownership of the historically pejorative term “queer.” Noting an 1848 visit to Cincinnati by poet Walt Whitman, the author contextualizes the scene for us: “Nearly 50 percent of its [Cincinnati’s] population was foreign-born by 1850, and the city’s young, male-dominated workforce mirrored the shipyards and saloons of Brooklyn where Whitman had formed his earliest queer connections. The poet noted the number of ‘strapping young lads’ working on the Kentucky side of the river” (p. 9).
However, it is Hogue’s homage to the connections of the past and present that proved most engaging for me: “If today’s LGBTQ+ movement is symbolized by the rainbow, this book represents the storm that preceded it — a testament to the struggles and the resilience that paved the way. Survival is a form of activism, and Cincinnati’s LGBTQ+ community can take pride not only in the queers who marched boldly but also in those who quietly crawled before them” (p. 11).
“Cincinnati Before Stonewall” is replete with engaging stories of people — homosexual, lesbian, bisexual, intersex, transgender, and both female and male impersonators. They include activists, business owners, Civil War veterans, sex workers, and others, seeking to live their authentic selves. Hogue weaves their stories into a coherent manuscript that captures their fears, tribulations, joys, and aspirations.
Equally talented as a speaker, Hogue is known for his tours, presentations, and activism, recently earning him a 2026 Cincinnati Reds Community Advocate Award. His book, retailing for $24.99, is available at bookstores and online at Amazon and other outlets. Hogue has also been a valued contributor to “Our Rich History.” See:
• Our Rich History: Region has always been a drag — Female impersonation in 19th, early 20th Centuries
• Our Rich History: Pride exhibit explores hidden history behind Cincinnati’s LGBTQ+ community
Paul A. Tenkotte, PhD is editor of the “Our Rich History” weekly series and Professor of History at Northern Kentucky University (NKU). To browse more than ten years of past columns, click here. Tenkotte also serves as Director of the ORVILLE Project (Ohio River Valley Innovation Library and Learning Engagement). For more information see orvillelearning.org. He can be contacted at tenkottep@nku.edu .