Bi the Book: Archiving Bi+ History with Mel Reeve
We sat down for a Q&A with the founder of the Bi History project
September is about to end, and the whispers of Halloween are approaching — but hold your pumpkins just yet!
Did you know that September is Bisexuality Visibility Month? While the core activities and events occur during Bi Visibility Week, the entire month is dedicated to honouring and uplifting Bi+ voices.
Speaking of bi, we’re excited to share our conversation with Mel Reeve, the bi archivist par excellence and founder of the Bi History Project. Read on as we explore her crucial work in archiving bi+ history and the significance of preserving our narratives for future generations.
Hello! Let’s start with the basics: could you tell us a bit about yourself and how you got into archiving?
Hi, my name’s Mel, and I initially trained as an archivist, working in heritage for over six or seven years. During that time, I developed an interest in LGBTQ+ history, especially bi+ history, and noticed a gap in how it was recognised by heritage organisations. This led me to create the Bi History Project, which evolved into an archive collection now housed at the Bishopsgate Institute in London.
I also do advocacy, education, and write both fiction and non-fiction, including zines to help people engage with bi+ history inclusively. Alongside this, I host the Not Your Typical Climber podcast.
My entry into heritage was pretty standard — I completed a master’s at Glasgow Uni, worked for a public body, and did traditional archive work. While that was rewarding, I felt that bi+ and LGBTQ+ community engagement was lacking.
Ultimately, I wanted to create records and ensure the bi+ community's history had a place in archives
My lived experience as a bisexual person allowed me to bridge that gap, especially in educating others on how archives handle sensitive, personal information, particularly in queer histories. I even specialised in data protection and copyright, which is vital when working with special categories of personal data like this.
Ultimately, I wanted to create records and ensure the bi+ community's history had a place in archives. That was really important for me. At the same time, I questioned whether that should be the goal, since archives and museums focus on permanent preservation, which is valuable, but not necessarily a priority for everyone. Sometimes, it's okay to accept that things are ephemeral and that community groups may have different priorities.
On that note, in your essay contribution to the anthology It Ain't Over 'Til the Bisexual Speaks, you mention the 'ephemeral nature of a [bi+] community trying to protect itself from prejudice' and the 'inherently exclusionary nature of many traditional archive practices.' Could you expand on that?
I think traditional archive services can be exclusionary. It’s common to need an appointment to engage with a collection for practical reasons, like proper handling, but there are also other factors. Many archives are housed in big institutions, like government buildings or private corporation archives, which can make people feel those spaces aren’t for them. While some archives work hard to ensure accessibility, broadly speaking, people often interact with large institutions, either as users or donors. It’s important to be transparent about that relationship since there are assumptions that people know how to access collections. For example, some may not know to send an email for an appointment, or how to navigate a catalog.
It’s also worth questioning why we assume everything must be preserved, only to be accessed by appointment. While preserving history is important, we should also consider whether that’s more important than someone engaging directly with their community’s history. It’s a difficult balance, and there’s no single solution, but heritage professionals should ensure information is accessible to communities that may not typically engage with these services.
What did you try to do to make your collection more accessible?
It was tricky because accessing an archive usually requires appointments. I started the collecting aspect of the project just before COVID, and what I had planned became less feasible due to the pandemic. After lockdown ended, I held workshops and organised open-access archive events. During these workshops, I encouraged people to create zines and other content that we could add back into the archive. The Bishopsgate Institute is very inclusive, engages with the community, and encourages access to collections while still following practices like proper item storage and retrieval.
What has been the feedback on the project?
The feedback has been really positive. During the workshops, it was exciting to see the emotional impact of engaging with physical items from bisexual history. It was powerful and empowering to touch, read, and learn from records of my community, and when I shared them with others, they felt similarly moved. It created a really positive space where people, both from inside and outside the heritage profession, expressed their thoughts and feelings. Emotionally, it was affirming to see how people connected with their identity through these records.
I did feel pressure at first to ensure the project wasn’t seen as taking away from the broader LGBTQ+ community. There’s sometimes this notion that identifying something as bi+ history could detract from its place in lesbian or gay history, but I’m passionate about the idea that inclusivity benefits everyone. Recognising something as part of bi+ history doesn’t make it less valuable or meaningful. There’s also a misconception that bisexuality is ‘not queer enough,’ but if we move past that, we can better celebrate and identify our collective community’s history, using specific terms to ensure inclusivity.
Expanding on what you just mentioned, how do you select items for your collection in a way that feels respectful to the people or movements you're representing?
When I was collecting, I realised that, as one person not tied to an institution, I wanted to maintain control over how the collection was managed. However, this meant people couldn’t access it because it was stored in my home, which posed challenges for both preservation and practicality. Storing it in my bedroom wasn’t ideal, and I always knew it would be a finite project — more of a case study on collecting methods.
In the process, I engaged with various bi community groups and activists, encouraging them to recognise the value in what they had. Many would say, “I have these badges and flyers, but they’re not important,” and I’d explain that they actually were. The biggest challenge was people not seeing the worth in their own items.
As I collected, my focus shifted from the act of collecting to exploring how we approach this work. That’s when I moved into education, creating a zine called It’s Radical to Exist, which discusses the experience of donating to an archive and its collection policy. I found this a more effective way to share my perspective, especially for the bi plus community, and the LGBTQ+ community more broadly.
I also realised I couldn’t do all the collecting myself. As my career developed, I knew I wanted to continue this work, but in a way that wouldn’t take over my life. Storing the collection in my bedroom just wasn’t sustainable.
From your research and archiving experience, is there a moment or item that really resonated with you?
Yes, there are a couple of items. Some of the physical items in the Bi History Collection came from American sources. One significant piece is a magazine called Anything That Moves. It’s a wonderful snapshot of bi+ culture from the '80s, and having a few physical copies of it was really exciting. It’s beautifully designed and very engaging.
Additionally, while working with the Glasgow Women’s Library on a project called Stride With Pride, I explored their LGBTQ+ collections and found numerous copies of The Pink Paper, a UK-based LGBTQ+ newspaper that is no longer publishing. I remember reading the personal ads and noticing many people identified as bi, even though the newspaper generally focused on lesbian and gay voices. That was impactful because it reminded me that bi+ individuals have always been part of this community, even if they weren’t explicitly recognised. There’s something quite powerful about personal ads; they capture people’s lives, romantic interests, and what they enjoy.
You mentioned that some people might not see the value of items they possess. What advice would you give to someone wanting to preserve their community’s history?
That’s a great question. It depends on where you’re based. If someone wants to ensure their items are preserved, they should ask themselves whether they want their items to go to a local archive, which would help represent their local community, or to a subject-based collection, like an LGBTQ+ archive.
It was powerful and empowering to touch, read, and learn from records of my community
When I collected based on bi+ identity, it included items from all over the country and the world, but many archives tend to focus on local collections due to logistical reasons. Think about how you want others to interact with that record. Also, remember that archives have collection policies; not every archive will be interested in everything. Some may seek completeness, meaning they might prefer full collections that meet specific criteria.
It’s best to reach out to an archive service and see what they say. I’m always happy to chat with people if they have questions. Even though I don’t do collecting work anymore, I have insights into that process and can offer suggestions. It's also crucial to recognize the value of what you have. In today’s digital age, it’s easy to assume that posting something online means it will last forever, but that’s not the case.
How do you personally deal with the ephemeral nature of social media and in your own project?
I’ve come to terms with the fact that not everything lasts, which used to stress me out. I’ve learned to accept that while some things should be kept — like the record of my work that’s archived at the Bishopsgate — it's okay if not everything lasts forever. The impact is in how I feel about the work I’ve done and the people I’ve collaborated with. That impact lasts for me, even if the tangible pieces aren’t around in five years.
If people want to find you and your work, where should they reach you?
You can find me at bihistory.wordpress.com, where I have a blog featuring longer pieces about my thoughts on bi+ history and insights into archival records. I also post predominantly on the Bi History Instagram for more immediate content. Feel free to reach out if you want to talk about history or archiving! I contributed a chapter to a book called It Ain't Over 'Til the Bisexual Speaks, which came out recently, and I wrote an essay for another anthology called The Bi-ble. You can also find me as Mel Reeve on social media and listen to my podcast, Not Your Typical Climber.
Join us in Glasgow to learn about mismatched libidos!
📌The Dream Machine 📆 17 October 💸 Free! ⏰6.30-8.30pm
Are you or your partner(s) struggling with mismatched libidos? You're not alone. Join us for our latest workshop exploring the complexities of mismatched libidos. We’ll delve into the seven most common reasons for low libido, with a special focus on core desires — the feelings we want to experience during intimacy, and why they matter in cases of mismatched sexual desire.
This session is open to individuals and couples of all genders and orientations, offering practical tools to foster empowered communication, emotional connection, and deeper intimacy. Participants will leave with take-home exercises and a useful worksheet to continue their journey toward better understanding and connection.
This is a safe, judgment-free space where you’ll gain insights into sexual desire and tools to navigate differences in libido with compassion.
Note: This event is for participants aged 18 and over. There will be discussions around dominance/submission and core wounds like abandonment.
Other spicy (and cuddly) events happening soon🌶️
Screening of Under Therapy | Bajo Terapia. 6 October, Edinburgh.
Feminist Book Club Glasgow. 8 October, Glasgow.
An Evening with Eileen Myles. 9 October, Glasgow.
Desire Dynamics: Understanding Mismatched Libidos. 17 October, Glasgow.
Imagining Digital Futures and Sexual Health. 18 October, Glasgow.
Sex Positive Reading Group. 29 October, Glasgow.
The Politics of Numbers: Queer Data and the Counting of LGBTQ Communities. 30 October, Edinburgh.
Stories of Renaissance ‘Witches’. 31 October, Edinburgh.
Are you hosting or have you spotted an event about sex, relationships, feminism, and other related topics that we have missed (especially outside of the Central Belt)? Send it to us at events@pillowtalk.scot!
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