From Banned to Beloved: How Queer Comics Found Their Voice at Michigan's Vault of Midnight
Local comic shop champions LGBTQ+ creators and characters while navigating a complex history of censorship
When Jacki Van Tuyle started working at Vault of Midnight, she knew the Ann Arbor-based comic shop was different. Unlike the "dusty, kind of quiet places with lots of boxes" that dominate the industry, the Vault's three locations — Grand Rapids, Detroit and the Ann Arbor flagship location — deliberately cultivate a welcoming space for everyone, including a dedicated section for queer comics.
The Vault's commitment to LGBTQ+ representation reflects broader changes in comics culture, but it also represents something more intentional: a business model that prioritizes diversity over tradition, community over exclusivity.
The Vault of Midnight aligns itself with progressive stores like Chicago's Quimby's Bookstore, Philadelphia's Partner, and Son and San Francisco's Silver Sprocket rather than traditional comic shops. This approach attracts a more diverse clientele, something Van Tuyle sees as essential to the medium's future.
"I want more people to read comics made by queer people and I want more opportunities for queer people to make comics," she explains, articulating the store's philosophy of supporting creators alongside readers.
The shop's queer section isn't just a token gesture — it's curated with care. Van Tuyle enthusiastically offers recommendations tailored to different audiences. For middle schoolers, she suggests Mariko Tamaki and Jillian Tamaki's slice-of-life graphic novels "This One Summer" and "Roaming." Older readers might enjoy Carolyn Cash's debut "Girl in the World" and Sam Szabo's "Enlightened Transsexual Comix."
For superhero fans seeking queer representation, she recommends Grant Morrison and Rachel Pollack's run on "Doom Patrol," where Pollack, a trans woman, created the first mainstream trans superhero.
The Vault's inclusive approach hasn't come without challenges. Van Tuyle notes that complaints about the queer section typically come from longtime superhero fans who resist change in general.
"We've had people come in saying things like 'Oh do you have Thor, but not the woman Thor,'" Van Tuyle explains. "People tend to prickle when a beloved or entrenched character is established as a queer character."
These reactions mirror broader cultural tensions, but the Vault stands firm in its commitment to representation. Van Tuyle sees these complaints as part of a larger pattern of resistance to comics' evolution beyond its traditional audience.
The store's approach reflects Van Tuyle's belief that representation must extend beyond characters to creators themselves. Companies should "give work to trans and queer creators, regardless of what the subject matter of the story is."
Van Tuyle's advocacy comes from understanding comics' complicated history with LGBTQ+ representation. The 1950s "comic-book scare" led by psychiatrist Fredric Wertham's "Seduction of the Innocent" specifically targeted perceived homosexual subtext in titles like "Batman" and "Wonder Woman." The resulting Comics Code explicitly banned "sex perversion," forcing queer stories underground for decades.
"It is the still-lingering effects of 'Seduction of the Innocent' [and the] discounting, discrediting and minimizing comics as a valid literary medium," Van Tuyle explains when discussing current censorship efforts targeting books like Maia Kobane's "Gender Queer."
While the Comics Code disappeared in 2011 and mainstream publishers now release annual Pride issues featuring openly LGBTQ+ characters like Superman's bisexual son Jonathan Kent, Van Tuyle sees disturbing parallels to past moral panics.
"If Marjorie Taylor Greene ever cared to set foot in a comic book store, there would be some whole uproar about how 'Superman's gay now,'" she observes.
The Vault's mission extends beyond simply selling comics — it's about defending readers' rights in an era of increasing book challenges. Van Tuyle believes much of the current controversy stems from politicians' and conservative religious groups' refusal to accept that "children have the right to read and they have the right to read what they like."
This philosophy shapes how the Vault operates daily. Rather than avoiding potentially controversial material, the shop embraces its role as a space where readers can discover stories that reflect their experiences or expand their understanding.
Van Tuyle sees signs of progress in mainstream comics, from DC and Marvel's annual Pride issues to the elevation of queer creators. But she knows the work isn't finished.
The Vault of Midnight could be a model for how comic shops can actively shape culture rather than simply reflecting it. By prioritizing small press publications, championing queer artists and employing LGBTQ+ staff, the store creates space for stories that might otherwise struggle to find audiences.
Van Tuyle's vision extends beyond the Vault's three locations. She wants to see an industry where queer creators have the same opportunities as their straight, cisgender counterparts, where young readers can find characters who reflect their experiences and where comic shops serve as community gathering spaces rather than exclusive clubs.
"Young adult readership loves graphic novels in general," Van Tuyle notes, pointing to comics' potential for reaching new audiences hungry for diverse stories.
Van Tuyle sees a bright future for queer comics at the Vault of Midnight. "I’m glad that we, at Vault, carry small press stuff, champion queer artists and employ queer people,” she said. “I want more people to read comics made by queer people, and I want more opportunities for queer people to make comics."
