Mark Bradley: Queer isn’t a word you see much in the pages of Diplomatic History or the program for SHAFR’s annual conference. Indeed, a quick lexical check of article titles since the journal began publication in 1977 for “gay,” “homosexual,” “lesbian,” “transgender,” and “queer” brings up absolutely nothing (bracketing the single title reference to the Enola Gay ). You may not be surprised. You should be. Queer history and queer studies occupy an increasingly central place in many historical subfields and in the work of other disciplines. Even for the redoubtable guardians of realism among political scientists in international relations, one can detect a queer turn. 1 The time has more than come to better understand how queering the history of American foreign relations might transform our own scholarly practice, and the field itself. As this lively and far-ranging conversation suggests, the project of queering America and the world operates in multiple registers. For some participants here it is about making visible what has gone unseen about gender and sexuality, recovering LGBTQ lives and experiences in ways that deepen what it means to write American history on a transnational canvas. For others the project is just as much about disrupting conventional notions of what constitutes power and how it is exercised in the world. Queering, as many of the participants in this conversation argue, not only disturbs hetero-normative assumptions about sexuality but ultimately pushes back on how we conceive of power relations in spaces as intimate as the bedroom or as geopolitically capacious as the United Nations. And for still others, it is both. The conversation as it unfolds moves along three tracks: a conceptual discussion of the theoretical terms of engagement, more granular talk rooted in the ongoing research of the participants and personal observations on how a queer lens came to inform their scholarship. In them readers can follow the back-and-forth between the participants as they literally think out loud about how the “queer” as history, theory, and method can disrupt our research and teaching.