In Viola Davis’ hands, “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom” becomes a complex portrait of a queer Black woman hurricane whose footprints loom large over the last 100 years.
This #TransDayOfRemembrance, trans lives are more than a list of names. We are vessels of ancestral memory.
Every time I crossed paths with Monica Roberts, I was always surprised by how tight she held me as we hugged — Now, so many young Black trans people can look to her as an ancestor. Every trans journalist is indebted to the space Monica has carved out for us. Every trans person owes her a great deal for forcing the world to see us in our unmistakable worth.
Zaina Arafat’s You Exist Too Much is the bi Arab romance novel l didn’t know I needed. We chat about the book, first-gen traumas, sexual ambiguity and Arab parents.
“I have a question!” she exclaims. Stepmom knows where this is going so she tries to head her off, but the child will not be dissuaded. “My question is,” — here it comes — “… are you transgender?” No one knows what to say, me included.
There’s a long and proud Black radical history of fighting back against the prison industrial complex and criminal (in)justice systems. So why is it that most of the voices that are upheld come from cis men?
There is sufficient evidence, both from Lorraine Hansberry’s own hand and from those with whom she interacted socially, that she was a lesbian. But the how of it all — that we have to piece together in fragments.
St. Patrick’s Day, every non-Irish person’s favourite excuse to get piss drunk, talk in an annoying accent all day and cover everything in Green is coming up once again. But why celebrate an embarrassingly tacky version of someone else’s religious holiday when you can hold a party for the patron saint of cat ladies, Gertrude of Nivelles, instead.
We’re back for a barely conceivable fourth installment looking at the big dogs, little dogs and doggy dogs of more lesbian and bisexual women of history who were obsessed with them!
In her life, Debbie Friedman did not want to be defined by her sexuality, but there’s something that feels queer about her music. The hidden history, the lyrics about liberation and joy, and, yes, a whole lot about women dancing with timbrels.
This series was an opportunity to honor our queer history by recreating iconic pride photographs through a modern lens, making explicit the connection between the past and the present that forms the living legacy we’re all a part of.
I realized that even though I’d vaguely heard or read about the lesbians of ACT UP, I didn’t really know enough about the specifics. Who were these women? What was their history?
When Rose Cleveland and Evangeline Simpson met in 1890, they fell for each other hard. Their once-hidden letters are collected in a new book.
“In high school, I kissed a girl for the first time. It felt too comfortable and too right to think I was anyone but whom I was in that moment. I’ve followed that honesty my whole life.”
Janelle Monáe is, quite simply, peerless.
Billie Jean King will go down as one of the greatest tennis players — one of the greatest athletes, actually — of all time. 39 Grand Slam titles. 20 Wimbledon victories. And, of course, her Battle of the Sexes win over Bobby Riggs, which sold out the Astrodome and was viewed by more than 90 million people.
“I believe that telling our stories, first to ourselves and then to one another and the world, is a revolutionary act. It is an act that can be met with hostility, exclusion, and violence. It can also lead to love, understanding, transcendence, and community.”
“Marriage is a magic word. And it is magic throughout the world. It has to do with our dignity as human beings, to be who we are.”
Barbara Hammer was the evidence that living a queer life could be good, and long, and full of wonder at a time when I felt like this was all was out of reach.
In 1974 it felt like every American was watching President Nixon’s impeachment hearings. With a single speech, a black lesbian changed the opinion of a nation. She was only getting started.
Maybe Josephine Baker and Frida Kahlo were actually lovers? Maybe they weren’t. What always mattered most was the idea that they even could.