Issues

The Burlesque Show

Minutes before I saw Poison Ivory pour champagne down her back and watch it drip between her legs, I knew seeing this black burlesque performer would evoke Power.

First Person

Mommy’s Little Hellraiser

I looked less and less like my mother— the image of womanhood I grew up with — and I was scared. Was she disappointed that I wasn’t like her? Did my femininity disappoint her? At the same time, I worried about being too masculine: people would know I wasn’t straight. I was angry: my mother taught me to be proud of who I was, but what if who I was becoming wasn’t good enough?