Out Here on the Grass: A Queer Reflection on Golf, Belonging, and Building My Own Space

Glenn Linder
Aug 1
3 min read

There’s a moment before the swing—quiet, intentional, poised. It’s a moment I’ve come to love. Not just for the rhythm of breath or the stillness before impact, but because it's where I remember who I am. Not just a golfer. Not just a coach. But a queer person claiming space in a game that wasn’t built for me.

The System Was Never Built With Me in Mind

Before I founded Stix & Stone Golf, I spent a year pushing against walls I couldn’t always see—but could feel. I worked hard. Over-delivered. Showed up with joy, creativity, and care.

And yet, the feedback was often silence, or discomfort cloaked in professionalism.

A friend, someone who had watched this process unfold, put it bluntly in a note they sent me:

“You’ve been fighting battles all year. I’ve watched you push yourself so hard—often past your breaking point—to land the position you deserve. The system asked you to play by white guy rules: over-perform, trust it’ll pay off. But you knew better. You brought your queerness, your authentic self, into every room. And that scared people—because you were different and effective. They didn’t know what to do with that.”

Their words hit me like a bell. Clear. Resonant. True.

The issue wasn’t my competence. It was that I didn’t perform it the way they expected. I didn’t look the part. I didn’t code-switch my voice or strip queerness from my presence. I wasn’t playing their game—I was crafting my own.

Golf Has Rules—But So Do We

Golf is often governed by tradition. Its etiquette, its dress codes, its club culture. And for those of us who exist outside the default—Black, Brown, queer, disabled, trans—it’s not always clear where or if we belong.

But queerness has always known how to survive. It knows how to reimagine. How to turn the margins into a dance floor, a stage, a sanctuary.

I stopped waiting for someone to carve out a lane for me. I built my own.

Stix & Stone: A Queer Praxis in Golf

Stix & Stone Golf isn’t just a coaching business. It’s a living invitation.

It says:

You can show up in this game as you are.
You don’t have to shrink to fit the fairway.
You can learn fundamentals without erasing your fabulousness.
You can be grounded and playful, serious and soft, powerful and still queer.

I coach the swing, yes—but also the soul. I teach kids who ask big questions. I welcome families who aren’t sure where they belong. I build community through care, not conformity.

Visibility Isn’t Vanity—It’s a Lifeline

I know that every time I show up on the tee box—queer, grounded, unfiltered—I’m showing others what’s possible. Especially the ones who have been told to wait their turn. Or tone it down. Or disappear.

I don’t do this for attention. I do it for belonging.

Because someone needs to see that you can be different and effective. You can be joyful and professional. You can take up space—and invite others to do the same.