In the fall of 2024, I attended Lezapalooza, a sapphic camping gathering in the woods of North Jersey, with my wife Aimee.
It was my first time attending the event. My wife had been several times before and even volunteered as one of the event’s “Volunqueers,” helping direct attendees and assisting with early VIP activities that week.
The following year, in 2025, we returned again — but for something a little different.
This time it was Pooza Jr, a family-focused event designed specifically for lesbian families with children 12 and under.
Experiencing both events made something clear: Lezapalooza isn’t just a party in the woods. It’s becoming something larger — a growing community space where sapphic people gather across different stages of life, from singles to couples to families raising children.
Arriving in the Woods
The Lezapalooza campground sits in a wooded area familiar to many North Jersey festival-goers — the same region that has hosted Lunar Faire and the North Jersey Renaissance Faire.
More Stories from QueerDispatch
Even though I already knew the terrain from past events, walking in that first day felt entirely different.
As a trans woman entering a lesbian-centered space for the first time, I was nervous.
That anxiety isn’t unusual. For many trans women, stepping into spaces historically labeled “lesbian” can carry uncertainty about how welcome we will truly be.
Even when you’ve been assured you’re welcome, there’s always that lingering question.
But by the end of the weekend, those fears had disappeared completely.
Camp Life at Lezapalooza
The campground itself is intimate but navigable, with wooded trails connecting campsites, activity spaces, and vendor areas.
One practical detail future attendees quickly learn:
If you plan to drive into your campsite, all-wheel drive helps. The terrain can get muddy — and as several campers joked throughout the weekend, Subarus seem uniquely equipped to handle the job.
Attendance numbers weren’t officially announced, but 2024 clearly felt like a breakout growth year for the event. Camps stretched deep into the woods and the energy of the crowd suggested a community expanding quickly.
The crowd itself ranged widely in age — mostly people in their 20s through middle age — with a healthy mix of couples and singles.
The overall vibe could best be described as joyfully electric.
You could find quiet corners of the woods where people relaxed and talked, but across the campground there was a shared energy that seemed to say:
“I’m free, I’m me, and I’m allowed to be.”
The Activities
Lezapalooza functions a bit like an adult summer camp.
Throughout the weekend there were activities ranging from social games to performances and discussion spaces.
Among the events I witnessed were:
- Jell-O wrestling
- spin-the-bottle gatherings
- drag king performances
- dance parties
- small breakout social events
- informal campsite gatherings
I personally didn’t participate in many of the larger party events.
Instead, I spent much of my time photographing, exploring the campground, and vending handmade items from our small business, QweerT.ART.
Our booth featured fairy jar lanterns, stickers, and other queer-themed artwork.
Vendor Market in the Woods
One of the most charming aspects of Lezapalooza was its vendor market.
Rather than a corporate Pride environment filled with large sponsors, the marketplace felt more like a DIY queer craft fair, with artists, small creators, and vendors who really stepped up with what they offered. The one thing they all had in common, however, was that every vendor came from within the community.
From Pride flags to art prints to lanterns and jewelry, the market reflected the grassroots nature of the event.
A Trans Woman in a Lesbian Space
My biggest question before attending Lezapalooza was simple:
Would I actually feel welcome?
At first, I kept to the sidelines.
But that distance didn’t last long.
People repeatedly invited me into conversations, group walks between activities, and social gatherings around campsites.
Many of those interactions came from people I had previously connected with through the event’s community chat on the BFF app, while others were strangers who simply treated me as part of the community.
By Saturday night, any lingering anxiety I had brought with me was gone.
There were multiple trans women in attendance, as well as nonbinary attendees. While I didn’t go around asking everyone how they identified, several nonbinary people I know personally were present and fully welcomed by the community.
What stood out most was that the acceptance didn’t feel like a formal policy imposed by organizers.
It felt like something the community itself had embraced.
A Complex Inclusion Debate
Like many queer spaces, Lezapalooza isn’t without its debates.
One recurring topic involves trans men and attendance policies.
The organizers operate from a specific philosophical framework:
- trans women are women
- trans men are men
Because the event is explicitly sapphic-focused, organizers argue that the same reasoning used to exclude cisgender men also applies to trans men.
Online discussions — particularly on Reddit — sometimes debate whether Lezapalooza is more broadly queer than advertised.
From my perspective attending the event, however, the community felt inclusive while still maintaining its sapphic focus.
Safety and Organization
Despite its rapid growth, the event appeared impressively organized.
Throughout the weekend there were visible Volunqueers carrying radios, ready to coordinate assistance if needed.
Safety infrastructure included:
- 24/7 first-aid availability
- volunteers stationed throughout the campground
- golf carts transporting people with mobility needs or supplies between areas
At times the event clearly felt like it was bursting at the seams due to its growth — but the support network in place made the environment feel safe.
Drinking, Cannabis, and Camp Culture
Unlike many Pride festivals centered around alcohol sponsorships, drinking wasn’t the dominant element of Lezapalooza.
There were occasional campsite drinking games — including one where participants took a shot every time a Subaru drove past.
But alcohol never felt like the focus of the weekend.
Cannabis, on the other hand, had a visible presence. One sponsored area in the woods featured inflatable furniture where people could relax and smoke together.
Even then, participation was optional.
No one appeared pressured to drink or smoke.
What happened inside someone’s tent remained their own business — unless they chose to invite others in.
A Moment of Awkwardness
My most awkward moment came early in the weekend.
Toplessness.
I knew beforehand that toplessness was common at the event, but the sheer number of people walking around comfortably topless initially caught me off guard.
As a trans woman — with what I jokingly call my “tiny transgender titties” — I suddenly felt self-conscious.
But something interesting happened.
Seeing so many people comfortable in their bodies didn’t make me feel excluded.
It made me feel included in a kind of radical body acceptance.
Campfire Conversations
Much of Lezapalooza’s magic happened around campfires.
Conversations ranged widely:
- work and internships
- parenting
- dating
- activism
- other queer events around the country
Several attendees spoke about similar gatherings, including the BIPOC-focused event SisterSpace in Maryland, and even invited me to attend and vend there in the future.
Not Just an Adult Event: Pooza Jr
In 2025, my wife Aimee and I returned to the community — this time attending Pooza Jr with our son, who was 11 at the time.
Pooza Jr is a family event organized by the same community behind Lezapalooza, designed specifically for lesbian families with children 12 and under.
The environment was quieter and more relaxed than the main adult event.
But the core spirit remained the same: creating a space where queer families exist without explanation.
At Pooza Jr, our son wasn’t “the kid with two moms.”
He was simply another kid playing in the woods while adults talked nearby.
That kind of normalcy can be surprisingly rare for queer families.
The End of the Weekend
By Sunday afternoon, people weren’t rushing to leave.
They were lingering.
Some campers were returning to hurricane-damaged hometowns. Others had flights to catch or long drives ahead.
But across the campground the same feeling appeared again and again:
No one really wanted the weekend to end.
Everyone wished they had just one more night in the woods together.
Why Lezapalooza Matters
Traditional Pride festivals play an important role in visibility.
But many follow a familiar formula — parades, beer gardens, and corporate sponsors.
Lezapalooza felt different.
It felt like a community experiment evolving in real time, prioritizing connection over spectacle.
In my own words, the event could be summed up simply:
“Lezapalooza is a trans-inclusive sapphic safe space evolving for the future.”
And if its rapid growth continues, it may become one of the most interesting grassroots queer gatherings in the Northeast.
Follow this blog on Mastodon or the Fediverse to receive updates directly in your feed.
Kirstyn Piper Plummer is a Mom, Wife, Photographer, Reporter, IT Administrator and many other things.
