There may not be many of them. But these Southern lesbian bars are still finding ways to thrive

Lesbian bars are considered something of a dying breed in the US, but the ones that remain still play a vital role in their communities.

Trying to find Arcana is like going on a treasure hunt. North Carolina’s only known lesbian bar is tucked away somewhere on West Main Street in Durham, in one of those configurations that confuses navigation apps and results in several minutes of wide-eyed wandering. It’s there, though, around the back of a building, behind some of the city’s buzziest restaurants. A circular sign signals the entrance across from the railroad tracks that run through Durham. Then, it’s down a flight of pitch-black stairs — perfumed by the Indian fusion restaurant above — and you’re inside a candlelit space decorated with mismatching antique furniture and local art. Sade and Tracy Chapman croon from the speakers overhead, and owner Erin Karcher is behind the bar, chatting with two women seated on the stools in front of her. They address her by name. “The Lion King” musical is playing at the nearby Durham Performing Arts Center, and Karcher has created a lineup of craft cocktails for the occasion: the Nala, the Sarafina and Pride Rock. A silver jar sits on the bottle shelf behind her, with a handwritten paper sign reading “Tips for Tits;” inches away hangs a palm-sized transgender flag. Arcana is part of what has been dubbed a dying breed in the country: a lesbian-specific bar, of which there are only 33, according to The Lesbian Bar Project. While not an official tally, the Lesbian Bar Project aims to amplify and keep track of these spaces, which can register with the project.