Features
State & local LGBTQ elected officials on their battling hate
“Political theatre” cooked up by “right wing think tanks that circulate these [anti-LGBTQ] bills to legislators around the country”
WASHINGTON – Just a few months ago, the midterm elections saw a “rainbow wave” with a record-breaking number of LGBTQ candidates elected to public office across the country.
After statehouses and city councils and other legislative bodies opened for new business, however, within weeks it became clear that Americans can expect to see a greater number of anti-LGBTQ bills and policies in 2023 than were introduced in any year in recent memory.
Five LGBTQ officials, both newly elected and reelected, recently connected with the Washington Blade to discuss their observations from the campaign trail and experiences in elected office. They shared reactions to the spate of harmful proposals that have been introduced so far and detailed plans for advancing pro-equality legislation while fighting against anti-LGBTQ policies this year and beyond.
New Hampshire state Rep. Gerri Cannon talked with the Blade earlier this month, and newly elected Trenton (N.J.) City Councilwoman Jennifer Williams responded to written questions last week. First-time officeholders Montana state Rep. Zooey Zephyr and Connecticut State Treasurer Erick Russell, along with returning Colorado Senate Majority Leader Dominick Moreno, each sat down with the Blade last month during the International LGBTQ Leaders Conference in D.C.
The conference was hosted by the LGBTQ Victory Institute, which administers programs and trainings for elected leaders whose campaigns are supported by the LGBTQ Victory Fund political action committee. Former Houston Mayor Annise Parker, who serves as president of the LGBTQ Victory Fund and Institute, also talked to the Blade by phone earlier this month.
So diverse are the identities, backgrounds, experiences and political views of these officeholders that they shatter restrictive notions that LGBTQ candidates must fit into a certain mold or serve only in certain elected positions.
How were they treated on the campaign trail?
Zephyr, who became the first openly transgender person elected to the deep-red Montana Legislature, told the Blade she was nervous about the prospect of knocking on doors for the first time.
“There’s always that fear as a trans person that it only takes one scary moment,” she said. “But what I found was what I always knew: My community supported me and loved me.”
Many of Zephyr’s constituents, she said, “were excited to see me and to be talking to a trans woman about policy,” as well as LGBTQ issues. Many voters were eager to get into substantive discussions on topics as wonky as how policies concerning solar power might intersect with local unionization efforts, she said.
“What I saw in my community, and what I’ve seen, broadly, across Montana, is first and foremost kindness and community,” Zephyr said.
Russell, who with his election for Connecticut treasurer became the first gay Black man to serve in statewide office, said his constituents were “excited about the fact that they felt they were represented in a campaign” with many voters relating to Russell’s “humble beginnings.”
Voters were also heartened to see a younger candidate running, said Russell, who earned his bachelor’s degree in 2009 and graduated from law school at the University of Connecticut in 2012.
His identity aside, “at the end of the day, we were running a campaign that was built on substance,” he said. And “people want to know that they’re going to have advocates for their communities.”
Likewise, Cannon told the Blade, “I don’t use my status as being a trans person as a lever in most cases. I’m fighting for people in my community; I’m there to do the people’s business, and I just happen to be transgender.”
“I haven’t run into anyone that’s used my status as a trans person during an election cycle,” said Cannon, who has served in the New Hampshire Legislature since 2018.
“When I ran for City Council here in Trenton,” Williams said by email, we “probably knocked on 3-4,000 doors and spoke with all kinds of people.” The questions she and her team received concerned crime, jobs, public utilities like water and roads, and Williams’ ability to work constructively with other councilmembers, she said.
Williams, the first LGBTQ person on the Trenton (N.J.) City Council and the one of the state’s first openly transgender officeholders, said that voters did not ask about her gender identity or sexual orientation, nor did they bring up politically divisive topics like policies concerning the participation of trans athletes in school sports leagues or drag queen story hours.
Likewise, since her election to the city council, Williams’ Council colleagues who have been sworn in as well as her at-large colleagues who won their runoff elections last Tuesday have been supportive — “very much so,” she told the Blade.
At the same time, Williams said she encountered some challenges because of her being a Republican. It “has been an issue with some people who are beyond my immediate circle or who haven’t gotten a chance to know me and support me,” she said.
“Some of my biggest supporters are very well-known local Democrats because they have seen the LGBTQ advocacy work and civic involvement that I have done in the past,” Williams said. “They also have very good ‘ears to the ground’ and trust me, people would tell them if I had come to canvass their neighborhood and if they spoke with me.'”
Williams expressed gratitude for the “endorsement and support” she received for her candidacy from the Victory Fund as well as for her progressive and Democrat supporters, because “they took a chance on believing in me and stuck with me even when they caught some hell for doing so.”
How will they approach challenging colleagues or difficult political circumstances?
Parker told the Blade there is room for LGBTQ elected officials to make a positive impact even in the most challenging of circumstances.
“We are just as interested in seeing them be who they are and stand up and speak out in their legislatures — whether or not they can pass pro-equality legislation,” she said.
When passing pro-equality policy or batting away harmful policy is difficult, Zephyr said she expects to draw from some of the lessons she learned as an athlete: “if you put in the work, day in and day out, you will see the progress. If you trust that process and do the work, you’ll see the results.”
Most people have nuanced opinions on policy matters and are sincere in their convictions, including legislators who might not support pro-equality bills or the LGBTQ community, she said. “And I trust that if I go into those conversations, — I would even say most — of them” will engage in good faith. “To me, that’s how you change hearts and minds.”
Earlier this month, the Montana Free Press reported that during a sausage making party for Montana lawmakers, Zephyr was caught chatting amicably with Billings Republicans. She later told reporters that she enjoyed the chance to connect with her colleagues outside the Capitol building “to just hang out and talk to someone about where they grew up.”
There can often be more room for diversity, including ideological diversity, among candidates elected to state legislatures because these bodies are typically governed less by the strictures of calcified partisan politics that are difficult to overcome at the national level, Moreno told the Blade.
“It’s vastly more personal,” he said, which means “you do see a lot more cross-party collaboration” in the Legislature.
With his first election to public office in 2012, Moreno, who is gay, became one of the four LGBTQ members of the Colorado House of Representatives elected to serve that year, which was hailed by the Denver Post as “a historic first for gays.”
Zephyr and Moreno both discussed how hateful and vitriolic rhetoric informs the development and passage of harmful laws and policies — all factors that raise the likelihood of violence against LGBTQ and particularly trans people.
The painful reality of violence against the community was a top of mind for the officeholders as well as the organizers and attendees of the International LGBTQ Leaders Conference, which fell just a couple of weeks after a gunman killed five people and injured 25 in Club Q, a Colorado Springs, Colo., LGBTQ nightclub.
Moreno recalled that when he first joined the Colorado Legislature 10 years ago, as he and his colleagues were debating a bill concerning conversion therapy, “some Republican members associated being LGBTQ with being an alcoholic.”
“I took an opportunity to have a conversation with them to let them know how offensive that rhetoric is,” Moreno said. “What I think the Club Q tragedy will do is remind people to be more careful with their language, because I do think that the kind of very hateful rhetoric we’re seeing today has played a role in the instigation of violence against minority communities.”
There are some extreme state legislators in New Hampshire, Cannon said, noting last year’s proposal by Republicans to secede (in the language of the bill, New Hampshire “peaceably declares independence” from the U.S. “and proceeds as a sovereign state.”)
Asked whether these lawmakers are a “lost cause,” Cannon did not hesitate: “I would absolutely use that term,” she said, comparing them to committed anti-vaccine conspiracy theorists. “They really don’t care for LGBT people; they don’t want to learn.”
However, Cannon said, “I’ve talked to Republicans who are favorable who have gotten to know trans people in the Legislature.”
Russell stressed the importance of representation: “I think the important piece is electing folks to office who are committed to fighting for our values.”
For her part, Williams joins the City Council at an interesting juncture. Following a series of ugly incidents in which previous members displayed “anti-LGBTQ bigotry and anti-Semitism,” a few years ago, “our city was crying for new start and a new City Council that would welcome, respect and affirm everyone,” she said.
Williams added that while she hopes Trenton will never again face that kind of scandal — partly because it happened when the members were working remotely and in-person meetings tend to discourage officeholders from making hateful comments to each other — “I am confident that all six of my colleagues will have my back if anything happens.”
How are they approaching policy that impacts LGBTQ constituents?
In the legislature, consistent with the approach she has employed in her prior work as an activist, Zephyr said she expects to focus her work on “making sure that we are taking action behind the scenes” to make sure each measure carrying a pro-equality message also carries a pro-equality impact.
For example, she said, passing a nondiscrimination ordinance is commendable, but when residents have cause to file a complaint, is there an accessible and effective means for them to do so?
Among the work Zephyr has done since she was seated has been the introduction of bills to ban the “gay and trans panic defense” and protect same-sex adoptive parents. She has also been a vocal critic of her Republican colleagues’ move to table Democrats’ proposal to allow police to temporarily take firearms from those deemed by a court as a danger to themselves or others.
The Club Q shooting provides for the opportunity for Colorado to build upon its already strong gun safety laws, such as by passing an assault weapons ban and achieving universal implementation of the state’s “red flag law,” Moreno told the Blade, adding that “we’re going to explore some of that in this next [now current] legislative session.”
Democratic state lawmakers in Colorado introduced an assault weapons earlier this month. With expanded Democratic majorities in both chambers of the state legislature serving with Democratic Gov. Jared Polis, who is gay, the state is in a position to pass more progressive legislation across the board, Moreno said.
In New Hampshire, Cannon has proposed a bill to make it easier for residents to change the sex listed on their birth records, having previously introduced the proposal to allow for people to change the sex listed on their driver’s licenses and state-issued IDs with the option to check a box for “nonbinary.” Republican Gov. Chris Sununu signed that bill into law and it went into effect in 2020.
Despite his support for that proposal, Cannon said Sununu pushed back against a previous version of her birth records bill because it had included an option to identify as nonbinary. She told the Blade she has reintroduced the measure this year without that provision, with the expectation that its success will provide for an opportunity to make it more inclusive in the future.
In her position on the school board, too, where until recently she served concurrently, Cannon focused her approach on working towards incremental change — voting, for instance, for a proposal that allows students to use restrooms and facilities that align with their gender identities even though it requires parental permission, therefore excluding trans students who are not out and supported at home.
“Getting that policy in place will open the door in the future” for a more inclusive policy, Cannon said.
Another bill introduced by Cannon, which was modeled after California’s, would make New Hampshire a sanctuary for LGBTQ families to escape prosecution in states that have criminalized parents for facilitating their children’s access to medically necessary and guideline directed medical treatments for gender dysphoria.
Parker noted that these types of bills were a major topic discussed by LGBTQ legislators when they convened for programs hosted by the Victory Institute.
Republicans, meanwhile, including Cannon’s GOP colleagues, are continuing to advance proposals to outlaw healthcare for minors for the treatment of gender dysphoria.
“I’m speaking out against the [GOP’s] healthcare bill, flagging it as discriminatory and in violation of HIPPA rights,” Cannon said, referring to the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act, which prohibits the disclosure of sensitive health information without the patient or guardian’s consent or knowledge.
“You have to be able to use medical information to prosecute a family [for facilitating access to gender affirming healthcare],” Cannon said, adding constitutional issues might also be raised under the Fifth Amendment’s protection against self-incrimination.
Cannon is confident she will be able to convince enough of her Republican colleagues to table the bill so it never reaches a vote, adding that she expects Sununu would veto the proposal should it ever reach his desk.
Others see room to leverage their backgrounds to make positive impacts elsewhere
Williams told the Blade that apart from bringing back Pride weekend celebrations that were on pause during the pandemic, Trenton does not have any LGBTQ-specific policy matters on the horizon.
“I think that is due to our being the capital of a very protective state that has strong LGBTQ protections written into law,” she said.
At the same time, she said, “my lived experience as a LGBTQ person informs me in many ways that correlate with the experiences of other marginalized groups,” Williams said.
“From issues ranging from youth homelessness to economics to law enforcement, LGBTQ people can bring much to government and its decision-making that can benefit everyone,” she said.
Likewise, Russell said, “being an advocate for LGBTQ rights and issues is going to be something that I will continue to do in my role” as treasurer. “But I think the there are opportunities for there to be overlap with a lot of different things.”
For instance, the attacks on LGBTQ rights come alongside efforts to abridge women’s reproductive freedoms. “One of the policies that I built through the campaign and worked with some legislators and nonprofits on was the creation of a safe harbor fund within the treasurer’s office,” Russell said.
“It would ultimately be a fund that we would put in place, and it would be used to help individuals traveling from anti-choice states who needed to access safe reproductive health care,” he said.
Other matters on Russell’s agenda will impact all residents in Connecticut, policies like “baby bonds, which was passed in our Legislature,” and will provide publicly funded trust accounts for every new child. Another priority is “expanding financial literacy programs so that we [will] have young folks who are coming out of school who know how to manage money,” he said.
Anti-LGBTQ bills, motivated by prejudice, will help no one
Whatever their putative purpose might be, Cannon stressed that the impact of anti-LGBTQ legislation proposed by her colleagues is often a solution in search of a problem — a message that was echoed by Parker and Williams.
“In New Hampshire, the trans population is one-tenth of one percent,” she said. Nevertheless, “We have people trying to put forth legislation against the trans community when we’re such a small community of people.”
Likewise, regarding the debate over her proposal to allow residents to change the gender listed in their birth records, Cannon said, “the number of people born in the state who want to change their birth records is incredibly small,” while, “many of us who were born outside the state already had our information changed.”
Zephyr stressed the ways in which anti-LGBTQ bills are based on lies about LGBTQ people.
She pointed to a proposal in the Montana Legislature that would prohibit minors from attending drag shows, which comes from the baseless smear propagated on the right that organizers of and participants in all-ages drag performances are sexually abusing or exploiting children.
Bills like these are “not a matter of logic or facts or information,” Parker told the Blade, but rather are intended as politically motivated attacks on the LGBTQ community. It’s “political theatre” cooked up by “right wing think tanks that circulate these bills to legislators around the country,” she said.
Russell noted how unpopular these policies are, broadly speaking. “Republicans are really using these campaigns to target trans kids, for instance, or to create these kinds of social wars around issues that the large majority of Americans believe that people should have the freedom and right to be who they are, and love who they love, and express themselves how they want to,” he said.
Williams sees both political opportunism and sincere bigotry motivating these anti-LGBTQ proposals: “There is definitely some hard-core prejudice behind some of these bills, but for many of these bills’ sponsors I believe they feel that they have put forth anti-LGBTQ legislation because they think they need to do so for their ‘conservative street cred’ and to raise money or gain a few percentage points in a primary.”
“There are definitely some Republican legislators who believe their legislation will solve problems that don’t exist,” Williams said. “I also learned that there are more moderate Republicans willing to push against such bad legislation, but they need support to help defend themselves when they get attacked for supporting LGBTQ people and in particular, trans kids.”
Parker has had first-hand experience dealing with anti-LGBTQ legislation when serving as mayor of Houston from 2010-2016, during which time, as an out lesbian, she was one of the first openly LGBTQ mayors of a major U.S. city.
In 2015, when voters repealed a broad nondiscrimination ordinance that included sexual orientation and gender identity, “it was about fear,” Parker said, stoked in large part by “the smear that trans women are sexual predators.”
She added that the effect of anti-LGBTQ bills can be both harmful and performative at the same time, pointing to efforts by conservative lawmakers to ban books that contain LGBTQ characters or themes.
“We [in the the LGBTQ community] have fought so hard to have affirming depictions of our lives in books and other media, so, to have books about LGBT lives removed from school libraries is really frustrating,” Parker said.
Particularly after the bills addressing “performative culture war stuff,” including book bans, are signed into law, she said, it often becomes clear that their proponents had failed to consider what that their implementation will look like in practice, perhaps in many cases because they did not expect the proposals to succeed in the first place.
From anti-LGBTQ laws to the onerous abortion restrictions that have been passed by many conservative states, GOP legislators are discovering the unintended and unforeseen consequences of poorly-construed policies and suffering the backlash from voters, Parker said. “It’s like the dog who chased the car.”
Features
Local club Precinct DTLA calls for support amidst financial troubles; Los Angeles Blade investigates
Considered by many to be DTLA’s queer haven, the bar says it is only a few slow weekends away from shutting its doors forever.
Like most evenings at Precinct DTLA, the energy is tangible.
Located in the heart of Downtown Los Angeles, the second-story LGBTQ+ venue has been a mainstay of the area for the past decade. From its world renowned parties to its weekly trivia nights, your average patron will always experience the bar’s trademark sense of grungy solidarity the moment they step into the space. And Saturday, August 2nd, is no different.
It is packed to the brim with queer locals of all identities, with people stocking up on drinks at the main bar, jumping along to music on the dancefloor, and lounging at the breezy patio as they prepare for the 2000s-themed drag show at midnight. But underlying all of this easy excitement is something nobody likes in a gay club: worry.
People didn’t come together just to dance along to classic bops — they’re trying to support their favorite bar, which recently announced it was only a few slow weekends away from closing its doors.
In a message posted last Friday on Precinct’s social media accounts, the venue made the shocking announcement that it was in financial crisis. The statement read, “Like many small businesses, we’ve taken hit after hit — from COVID shutdowns and ICE raids to citywide curfews and the ongoing decline of nightlife. But what we’re facing now is even more devastating.” This post described how the space was contending not only with the issues listed, but also with a lawsuit by a former employee alleging that she was discriminated against due to her status as a White woman. It’s been a taxing legal battle, emotionally and physically, for the bar’s staff; the plaintiff’s attorney has an alleged track record of discriminatory behavior. Each employee is worried not only about their job, but also about losing what has become a true haven for DTLA’s queer community.
“Nightlife has shifted significantly in recent years,” said Precinct’s general manager, Jeremy Lucido, when he took a moment to speak with the LA Blade in the back of the club between boxes of seltzers and rushing employees. “For queer spaces in particular, the decline has been ongoing. Since the rise of smartphones, hookup apps, and social media, the need for in-person gathering spaces has steadily diminished — and with it, the number of queer bars.” It’s a disheartening truth that has been a recurring feature in recent news cycles; Californians were shocked only a few weeks ago when San Francisco’s historic Oasis nightclub announced it would be shutting down due to financial troubles.
When asked about how the increase in ICE Raids and rising anti-LGBTQ+ rhetoric may have affected Precinct, Lucido expressed, “These attacks, especially the ones aimed at our trans siblings, are deeply disheartening…there’s a clear effort to erase us, and that makes safe spaces more vital than ever. At Precinct, we’re committed to being a haven for the entire queer community. We need to ‘protect the dolls’ at all costs.” ICE Raids have continued to disproportionately target community centers in DTLA, leading not only to a decrease in patrons, but businesses closing up and vacating the historic area.
These issues and more have greatly affected Precinct, with the ongoing lawsuit only exacerbating them. Lucido was unable to discuss the issue further due to legal liability. But queer Los Angeles remains vocal that Precinct is vital to the community.
“Precinct is one of the more welcoming LGBT places in LA,” said Wilson C., a patron who excitedly detailed how much the bar means to him after moving to California only two years ago. “It attracts a different, more diverse crowd than what I’ve seen in [West Hollywood], and it’s been easy for me to go out on a random night and have a good time.”
Along with attendees, the workers themselves spoke about how Precinct is more than just a job for them. The Blade had the pleasure of chatting with the bubbly Ms. Nicky Jackson, who has spent the past decade managing the door (and everything else necessary) at the venue’s many parties. “Precinct is different because they’re all encompassing and accepting of everyone,” she said, taking a break between warmly greeting and stamping the inner wrists of guests. “It doesn’t matter who or what you are, they’re very, very welcoming [and take] everybody in… a lot of people feel like they have never been accepted before they’ve been here.”
While there has been a resounding worry from Precinct’s thousands of supporters across Los Angeles, there’s also been a shocking amount of hope not only through the many people coming out to fill the space, but in the local celebrities like RuPaul’s Drag Race: All Stars winner Alaska Thunderf*ck who are dedicating their time to help fundraise and keep Precinct afloat. It’s been a heartwarming moment of community, but Lucido reminds potential patrons that even with all of this, the bar is still not safe from shutting down.
When asked what Precinct’s concerned supporters can do to assist, Lucido ended the interview saying, “This isn’t just about Precinct. This is about your local gay bar, your favorite queer venue — whatever space makes you feel seen. Show up. Support. Buy a drink. Tip a drag queen or a go-go dancer. We’re more than just a bar — we’re a queer family, and we exist to create space for connection, expression, and joy. So come by, and keep coming.”
Features
Still here, still fighting: A trans Latina’s stand against ICE in Orange County
Trans activist Arri recounts her family’s terrifying brush with ICE in Orange County and is channeling her pain into advocacy.
Last Saturday, what began as a routine trip to a local liquor store in Orange County quickly turned into a terrifying encounter with Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) officers, one that left Arri’s entire family rattled.
“We spotted them when we walked out of the store,” Arri recalled. “We all kind of just stopped in our tracks as we were walking.”
The officers arrived in unmarked white SUVs, wearing tactical vests and gear. “They weren’t masked up. You could see their faces.” That’s when things escalated. “They started slowly moving forward as we were leaving… they started following us. And this entire time I could see in the rearview mirror and in the side mirror that they were laughing.”
Although her father has a green card, fear took hold. He refused to drive home and reveal their address. “ICE made the exact same U-turn… my dad started getting scared, so he sped off and went onto the main street… luckily, we eventually lost them.”
But the emotional damage was already done.
“My dad was paranoid the entire time on our way home… he didn’t even want to leave the house after that. He unbuckled his seatbelt immediately, ran inside the house, locked himself in, and was completely shaken.”
Arri’s grandmother, who is undocumented and lives with the family, has a different kind of courage. “My grandma’s very fearless,” Arri said. “She’s strong because of everything that she’s been through in her life… She still goes out every day, takes the bus to work, and faces these risks head-on.”
What struck Arri most was the blatant racial profiling. “Obviously no one has a sticker on their forehead that says ‘we’re illegal,’ but they basically just racially profiled us because we are all darker-skinned. Like we obviously look Mexican.”
Even more disturbing was what Arri learned later. “I checked that Ice Block app later that day. They were taking people off buses just two streets down from where we were.”
Though Arri is a U.S. citizen, she has witnessed this violence firsthand before. “My mother was deported when I was in high school, around Trump’s first term.” That trauma continues to shape her life. “During transitioning, I felt like I needed my mother… to guide me through stuff like womanhood… I still need my mother to this day.”
Now, Arri channels her pain into advocacy. “This isn’t my first time protesting about this matter… I will always stand for my community… I fuel myself with just being fearless. I’m a U.S. citizen. I was born here. I’m able to speak out for immigrants who are scared to speak up out of fear of being deported.”
Her words carry not only personal weight but a fierce demand for justice. “Children have died in ICE custody. Women. Men… treating these people like they’re animals, even when they have no criminal backgrounds.”
Her story is not just about fear, it is about refusing to let fear win. She calls on those with privilege to show up. “We are the voice for those people who are not able to speak for themselves… This should make you want to stand up… Who can look at an innocent child, an innocent family being ripped apart, and not have a heart?”
“An attack on the immigrant community is an attack on all of us. If they get away with this, who are they going to go after next?” Arri warns. She believes the threat extends far beyond immigrant families. “They don’t want to make America great. They want to make America white.”
As attacks on immigrant communities, trans people, and people of color escalate nationwide, stories like Arri’s are a clear warning: these are not isolated incidents. They are symptoms of a coordinated assault on vulnerable communities, and a wake-up call for the rest of us.
Arri’s Call to Action: Organize. Vote. Show up. If you are undocumented or need support, organizations like CHIRLA, RAICES, Trans Latin@ Coalition, and local mutual aid networks provide legal help, housing, food, and resources. If you are a citizen, use your privilege to demand justice, share stories like Arri’s, and protect your neighbors.
Because, as Arri reminds us:
“You’re not alone. Don’t lose hope. Things will get better. There will always be people who will continue to fight for you.”
California Politics
How Triston Ezidore became the first gay, Black board member in Culver City at 19 years old, making history—twice!
At 19, Ezidore felt like it was his responsibility to track the educational movements in the Culver City Unified a bit more closely
While most teenagers are busy playing video games, Triston Ezidore was busy making history.
From high school student to school board member for the Board of Education in Culver City, Ezidore talks with the LA Blade about his unconventional entry into politics with influence from George Floyd’s death and the COVID-19 pandemic, and how he made history twice while he was still a teenager.
In 2021, most of us were still at home and many people unemployed, out of school, caring for loved ones or just merely surviving the pandemic shutdowns and peak infections caused by COVID-19. During this time, many high school students lost valuable time in the classroom, being cut off from celebrating and socializing with their peers. Young Ezidore, rose above that—and more—achieving new milestones within his family and within the entire board of education in Culver City, bringing representation to queer, trans and communities of color.
Shortly after graduation, Ezidore headed to Syracuse University and from afar, he continued to tune into the Culver City school board meetings to track the progress he had made during his time as student body president in high school.
“I was still kind of watching, tuning into everything that was going on in Culver City and we knew that in order to get [the progress] right, we had to have a spotlight over the implementation,” said Ezidore.
It was during this time, that he noticed that all the progress he tried to implement during his time there, was not being implemented correctly, so he felt like it was his responsibility to track the movements a little more closely.
This is when he made the decision to return home and enroll at University of Southern California’s Dornsife College of Letters, Arts and Sciences—where he simultaneously launched his campaign for a seat on the Culver City Unified School District Board of Education.
In 2022—just one year after graduating high school—he won one of three open seats, becoming the youngest elected official in Los Angeles County at 19 years old. Then in 2023, he was elected to serve as School Board Vice President—making history as the first Black, gay man in that position as a teenager.
Though his journey into politics is “unconventional” as he puts it, Ezidore says he was radicalized to go into politics because of George Floyd’s death and the inequities made incredibly obvious by the COVID-19 pandemic.
Ezidore says that being the child of immigrants also inspired him to ultimately look into politics to gain a better understanding of how his perspective can be helpful towards other people’s experiences and educational goals.
His mother was born in Vietnam and moved to the United States after the fall of Saigon, which was the end of the Vietnam war that lasted from 1955 to 1975. Ezidore’s father is from Jamaica, so that gives Ezidore a unique perspective into the challenges and unique obstacles that many students face during their K-12 education.
Ezidore also identifies as gay and has been out since he was 18 years old.
“I find myself identifying as a gay, Black man, and I know that under this administration specifically, there has been an obsession with LGBTQ people and trans people in education,” said Ezidore. “I think historically our [education] system has not supported Black boys in education as a whole, so I find myself often pulling or tapping into those aspects of my identity.”
As a proud, gay, Black man, he felt that it was necessary to implement actual structures to support the most neglected demographic of the education system.
“We instituted the Black Student Achievement Plan that called for specific action goals to implement or to increase achievement,” said Ezidore.
This plan created mentorship and internship opportunities, a Black student council, a Black affinity group graduation and uplifted students in achieving their goals. During that time, former governor Jerry Brown stated that school districts should implement a Local Control and Accountability Plan (LACP). The plan serves as a tool to improve student outcomes with a roadmap that tracks and sets goals and plan actions, and leverages resources to guide students who were foster youth, low-income and English-learners.
“I don’t know that [Trump] is going to withhold the funding, but to me, I don’t know if I could sleep at night if I let him dictate these [educational] outcomes for the students in Culver City,” he said.
The latest update from the Supreme Court is that Trump is allowed to continue dismantling the U.S. Department of Education, worrying scholars throughout the country, with many saying that without an injunction, much of the damage can be irreversible. The Department of Education has already experienced the slashing of over 1,400 jobs and will continue to see more funding cuts due to the Reduction in Force (RIF) plan, implementing Trump’s Executive Order, which he claims will improve education and families by returning education authority to individual states.
Features
TS Madison Starter House offers a blueprint for Black, trans liberation
When TS Madison cut the ribbon on her Starter House in Atlanta this past Transgender Day of Visibility, she wasn’t just opening a home, she was building a legacy.
When TS Madison cut the ribbon on her Starter House in Atlanta this past Transgender Day of Visibility, she wasn’t just opening a home, she was building a legacy.
Launched on March 31, 2025, the TS Madison Starter House is a re-entry home for formerly incarcerated Black, trans women. The Atlanta-based initiative provides safe, affirming housing for up to five residents at a time who participate in a 90-day program offering job assistance, healthcare, economic opportunities, and holistic support.
Madison shared that the idea grew out of a desire to do more than speak out online. “While getting ready to film The TS Madison Experience season 2, I was talking with my team about what more I could do for my community. I used to feel like everyone else was out marching and being so active, and I was just online talking. But then I started noticing how every time I’d speak out, blogs and media outlets would pick it up… and I realized, wow—I don’t necessarily have to be out in the streets to make change happen. Still, I wanted to do more than just talk.”
That commitment to action led her to turn a personal real estate purchase into a lifeline for her community. “I said, ‘I’m buying a new house… I have this house, can I give the girls housing?’ Because the girls need housing. I remember moving to Atlanta broke and being homeless. I’ve been a house mother—my gay kids have lived with me and thrived. So why not keep doing that? Why not make that intentional?”
The Starter House is powered in part by a partnership with wellness brand Pure for Men and longtime advocacy organization NAESM. As part of its Pride initiatives, Pure for Men donated a portion of June sales to support the house and sponsored attendance for participants at NAESM’s National Leadership Conference on Health Disparities and Social Justice, which took place in Los Angeles from June 25–29.
“We’ve chosen to support the TS Madison Starter House and NAESM because they’re making a real difference in people’s lives,” said Lawrence Johnson, co-founder and CEO of Pure for Men. “With Black trans lives and rights under attack, these organizations are stepping up to amplify their voices, fund essential care and give them the tools to succeed.”
For Madison, the collaboration is rooted in genuine connection. “NAESM is a godsend. It’s a 35-year-old organization with a solid reputation. No scandals. They’re trusted,” she said. “Then there’s Lawrence, the President and CEO of Pure for Men. I had already been using their products before we ever met! We met at a party, just vibing, and it turns out we were already interconnected. We started talking and they shared how they’d been watching me grow and loving my show Phag Talk. And the partnership just blossomed from there.”
The initiative arrives amid rising anti-trans and anti-Black violence, but TS Madison views the Starter House as a political act rooted in love and care. “As a Black,, trans person, I’ve always felt left out by my own Black community. It’s like, once you’re gay or trans, they see you as ‘other.’ Suddenly your Blackness doesn’t count anymore. But I can’t separate the two—I’m Black and trans. I’m both, all the time.”
She added: “When you throw your Black trans child or sibling out, that’s anti-Blackness to me. Because you’re dehumanizing them. My humanity shouldn’t vanish just because I’m trans.”
This work feels both necessary and deeply personal. “I stand on the shoulders of girls who laid down or lost their lives,” Madison said. “And I’m honored to lend my back and shoulders for others to stand on. That’s how we climb—by lifting each other.”
Madison’s message to her younger self is one of strength and perseverance: “I’d tell her: Stay the course. It’s rocky. It’s going to get even more rocky. But stay the course. You are so important, more important than you could ever imagine. Be strong. Don’t be blinded by today. Tomorrow is another day.”
Looking ahead, Madison envisions the Starter House as a model for wider change. “I want it to be the mold for how to give back. Not just one house in Atlanta, but the start of countless starter homes across the nation,” she said. “I want other girls, especially those with privilege or surplus, to see that when you’ve been given so much, it costs nothing to give back. Let this be the example.”
She’s clear on her mission: “This is what I’m supposed to do. And when you’re doing what you’re meant to do, even if there’s opposition, doors will open.”
Watch the full interview:
Features
Koaty & Sumner: Finding love in the adult industry
This Q&A explores the adult content industry and how this couple is making it work for them
Koaty and Sumner Blayne are not exactly the definition of a conventional relationship. How many couples can say they met during a threesome? It isn’t as lurid as it sounds and it is a sweet story. The couple has been together for six years, got engaged and started planning for a big wedding next year. Whereas most couples clock into work outside of the home, Koaty and Sumner clock in at home, in front of a camera for OnlyFans and social media.
Their lives got national attention as they made their reality TV debut on Tubi’s House of Heat last year, joining other queer and straight OnlyFans content creators in a Hollywood mansion for weeks of filming. The show of course covered the drama of a content creator’s life, including relationship ups and downs, but it also captured the realities of what it takes to be a successful OnlyFans personality. Koaty and Sumner shared the intimate details of their relationship, the exhaustion that comes with the pressure to present the perfect couple day after day and the jealousies that can come with two careers in the adult industry. While Koaty filmed his first adult studio work this year, Sumner has spent a few years working for studio names like Sean Cody, Falcon and Men.com, among others.
Somehow, the two make it work.
The two have become a very popular brand both on OnlyFans and on mainstream social media. It doesn’t hurt that they are constantly coming up with new kinds of content and the fact that they aren’t hard on the eyes at all. This year, they were awarded Best Podcast at the International Content Creator Awards for their debut pod, In Bed with Koaty & Sumner, where they cover all aspects of their lives in the adult industry—the good, the bad, and the challenging.
In this Los Angeles Blade exclusive, we talked to the couple about finding love in the adult industry while keeping the spark alive.
What are some of the biggest misconceptions people have about couples in the adult industry?
People assume we’re either constantly hooking up with others or emotionally detached robots who don’t feel jealousy or connection. In reality, we have boundaries, deep communication and a whole lot of love. We just also happen to have sex on camera. Being in the adult industry doesn’t make us less committed, our job just involves lube.
How do you maintain a healthy relationship—and manage jealousy—in an open relationship?
We’ve had to learn how to have the tough conversations, especially after the honeymoon phase wore off. It’s about recognizing how we each love differently and asking for what we need. Trust and transparency are non-negotiable. We check in constantly—before shoots, after, during dinner—nothing is off limits. We’ve even learned to turn jealousy into compersion. Usually, it just takes a little reassurance… and maybe a snack.
How do you balance your relationship with the pressure of constant content creation?
Sometimes we don’t—and that’s okay. There are days we’re exhausted and need to just be husbands, not performers. We schedule breaks, unplug often, and make time to be us. It’s not always fifty-fifty—sometimes one of us is struggling and the other steps up. We check in, readjust, and give each other grace.
How do you keep the spark alive through the years?
We stay intentional. Too many couples stop talking about sex after the honeymoon phase, expecting it to fix itself. As gay men, we’re often raised without proper sex education and with a lot of shame. We’ve had to unlearn that, be curious and have honest conversations about our needs surrounding sex. The spark stays alive when we keep showing up—and make sex intentional
What have you learned most from each other?
Sumner: Koaty’s taught me patience and how to slow down and feel safe.
Koaty: Sumner’s taught me how to communicate and love without fear.
What do you love most about the other?
Sumner: His loyalty. He shows up for me in ways that make me feel protected and seen—even when I’m chaotic.
Koaty: His vulnerability. He shares his heart so openly. It’s impossible not to fall for him again and again.
How have your families reacted to your careers?
They’ve been super supportive and just want to see us happy—traveling, building a life and doing what we love.
What did you learn about yourselves filming House of Heat?
Reality TV brings out everything—the good, the bad and the unhinged. But it reminded us how grounded we are in each other. Cameras or chaos, what we have is real.
What are some of the biggest challenges you face as a couple in the adult industry?
The constant pressure to perform—on camera, on social media, and emotionally. People project a lot onto us. It’s easy to forget who we are off camera, but we remind ourselves that our relationship comes first—before algorithms, followers, or collabs.
Any sneak peeks for your wedding next year?
We’ve booked the venue! The guest list is coming together… and let’s just say some of our hosts might be from RuPaul’s Drag Race Season 12.
Any advice for other couples in the adult world?
Communicate constantly, keep your ego in check, and treat your relationship like the most valuable thing you have—because it is. The camera should capture your connection, not replace it. Filming can be fun, but it’s still work. Your partnership—the trust, the intimacy, the real love—is what truly matters.
You can follow Koaty and Sumner on Instagram
Check out their podcast, In Bed with Koaty and Sumner
Features
Salina EsTitties and the power of the queer Latinx community
In this Los Angeles Blade exclusive interview, we chat with Salina EsTitties about the strength of the Latinx culture in the face of today’s political oppression and what we must do to remain strong
National audiences got to know Salina EsTitties during her run on season 15 of RuPaul’s Drag Race, but Angelenos have been witnesses to the star and activist power that is EsTitties for a decade. She’s not just a fierce entertainer, she’s also a leading voice in the queer, Latinx, drag, and sober communities.
This year, she was announced as the winner of L.A. Blade’s Best Drag Performer at our Best of L.A. Awards. She’s appeared in campaigns for Sephora, Pure for Men, Calvin Klein and more, partnering with numerous non-profit organizations that benefit the queer community and beyond. And yet somehow, she still has time to focus on her lucrative drag and music career.
Even with her continually rising star, she remains humble, down-to-earth and makes time to support events and movements that affect her communities.
This Thursday, she will join the Los Angeles Blade, Latino Media Collaborative and CALÓ News for Diálogo – Pride, Power & Progress, an intimate in-person gathering that brings together powerful voices at the intersection of journalism, identity and social impact.
EsTitties is a fierce believer in the power of the queer Latinx community in Los Angeles and knows firsthand the work that is being done.
“There are leaders in the community that people don’t even realize are out there, going to work for the community, for us as a whole and not just Latinos, but for queer people in general, like trans and trans youth,” she said in an interview with L.A. Blade. “When you go to any function that is a Latino function, there are people who are actually in the streets doing the work.”
EsTitties is all too familiar with the struggles that the organizations she supports are going through, especially as the current administration continues to restrict resources.
“There are people losing jobs who are doing this good work. The leaders of the Latin community are the ones out there in the streets who are actually helping the community,” she continued. “They’re my heroes at the end of the day because it’s those kinds of people who helped me when I was 19, 20 years old, running the streets, homeless, on drugs. They were there for me at those times and their resources provided me with a life that I have today beyond my wildest dreams. I get to twirl around in a wig, you know, but they’re the ones who are out there saving the world.”
EsTitties is also changing the Latinx culture from within. Her presence as a drag queen and a queer (as she puts it) cholo, challenges the machismo norms that are expected of men, changing the narrative of through representation. Her work is a direct result of her early experience.
“It was such a struggle for me in the beginning, especially when I started drag when I was 23. I was so insecure and so hyper-fixated on the masculinity of it all. So I cut my hair off and I quit drag,” said EsTitties, adding that she then landed a job at In-N-Out. “The machismo of it all is something that I grew up with, especially growing up in the hood. I had to acclimate — oversized white tee, baggy blue jeans and Air Force [shoes]. That was the vibe — no color, no queerness, no nothing. I had to present as much as I could to not stand out so I wouldn’t get picked on. Internalized homophobia is very real and toxic masculinity is very real inside of me.”
Eventually, EsTitties did return to drag and it gave her confidence and the voice she now uses to fight for her communities. Over the years, drag taught her how to combine both her masculine and feminine traits in a way that was real for her, embracing her full identity. From her vantage point, she views machismo differently now.
“I’m attracted to masculinity. I don’t think it’s something we have to demonize or villainize, it’s about not making it greater than. I think we’re all equal, I think everyone has all shades of the rainbow, right? I can be feminine, I can be masculine, I can present feminine and still be butch as fuck. It’s all sexy at the end of the day, but I think confidence is where you use it for good as opposed to evil.”
The queer voice in the Latinx community grows stronger every day. Younger generations are gaining the courage to be themselves, not worried about the pressures of conforming. EsTitties says that queer people have always been visible in the community and gives credit to the women of the family — the tias, the mothers, the grandmothers — for showing unconditional love and fostering a vibrant queer community.
As EsTitties prepares to join an impressive panel for Diálogo for a conversation that explores the evolving landscape of Latinx journalism and its vital role in advancing equity, representation and social change, she believes that talk of immigration and the current U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) raids be at the forefront of any queer, Latinx talk.
“The reality is that I’m sure you know someone, who knows someone who’s undocumented, but there’s a big stigma around that. We’ve heard it from our President that [undocumented immigrants] are rapists, drug dealers. That’s not the truth,” said EsTitties. “My mom came here, undocumented, got her citizenship, then did everything that she needed to do after the fact. And if it wasn’t for my mom doing those things, I wouldn’t be here for it. I am still learning how to navigate it all. This is a conversation that’s very taboo and people just like to pretend it doesn’t exist. But it’s a very real thing that we’re watching in real time.”
EsTitties stressed the importance of the queer community being involved in these conversations because they are issues that affect communities that intersect with other marginalized communities that are particularly vulnerable right now, such as the undocumented immigrant community.
“At the end of the day, we’re human beings. No one should be treated the way that they’re treating human beings right now. Seeing what’s going on right now with ICE is so scary. I know people who are afraid to leave their homes. I have friends who are dyeing their hair a different color every day, so they seem less brown. I have friends who are covering up their tattoos because they think they’re looking for them. People are paranoid and scared right now.”
EsTitties knows that stigma and racism exist even within our own community. That is a reason she works so hard at being visible and active.
“[We need to have a] conversation of just knowing that we Latinos and queer Latinos are not less than our white counterparts. We see white gays running the world, baby. I just hope that I can be one of those people who is like: ‘I’m going to do it regardless of whether you think I can or not, whether you’re rooting for me or not.'”
EsTitties says that in her experience, the queer, Latinx community is often “the butt of the joke a lot of the time.” She says that her communities often have to work ten times harder to get places.
“We’re having to fight a lot of stigma, fight a lot of prejudice, but the thing with Latinos is that we don’t let that weakness show. That confidence and strength, and our passion and our fire, that’s what continues to keep us here and moving. So I think we lean in and continue to be unapologetic, and I think just be a little louder, especially right now.”
Join EsTitties and the Los Angeles Blade for Diálogo, Thursday, June 26th at 6 pm at The Abbey. The event is free; RSVP here.
Features
Resist Without Rage: How this LGBTQ leader is fighting ICE’s terror tactics
‘It’s important to know what our rights are and what ICE can do legally and illegally and when we go places — because we can’t just stay shut in’
Richard Zaldivar, a prominent community leader and founder of The Wall Las Memorias, was pumped and proudly walking hand in hand with his husband Joselito Laudencia, waving to cheering bystanders as The Wall Las Memorias contingent marched down Hollywood Boulevard in the June 8 LA Pride Parade. However, Zaldivar says he noticed that many marchers who signed up, didn’t show. He believes they were terrified that uninhibited militarized masked U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents might sweep them up and disappear them in an unannounced raid just because they are from the Latin American community being targeted by ICE raids.
According to Zaldivar, the terror is real and warranted.
The same day of LGBTQ jubilation, anti-ICE demonstrators swarmed several streets outside the federal detention center in downtown L.A. where ICE held their loved ones. In fact, many of those unidentified detainees arrested Friday and Saturday were surreptitiously hustled into ICE buses, driven to a private charter airline hangar at the Hollywood Burbank Airport, “immediately loaded onto Saab 2000 planes owned by Freight Runners Express / ACE, a cargo and passenger charter airline,” and flown to San Antonio, Texas, according to the Burbank Leader.
Disappearances have become normal in America despite many detainees having legal status or having lived and worked in a community for years, paying taxes, with no criminal record. The usurpation of the constitution right to due process was apparently ordered by White House Deputy Chief of Staff Stephen Miller, who told ICE officials to detain 3,000 migrants a day or be fired.
On Saturday, Donald Trump figuratively poured gallons of fuel on the small protest fire by federalizing 2,000 California National Guard troops, defiantly ignoring the protocol of first being asked for federal help by Gov. Gavin Newsom, LA Mayor Karen Bass or Los Angeles Police Department Chief Jim McDonald, who said the move was made totally unnecessary by activating L.A.’s mutual law enforcement aid agreement with 88 other cities in L.A. County.
By pretending the demonstrations are riots, Trump called up 2,000 additional National Guard troops and 700 Marines, a ruse to invoke the Insurrection Act and gain unchecked power.
I asked Richard Zaldivar to explain what’s happening and offer advice to LGBTQ activists.
“Originally, Mr. Trump had said he was going after the hardcore criminals who were here with no documentation,” said Richard. “We know it’s not happening because innocent people who may be documented and some people who are citizens have been apprehended by ICE and taken into custody.
“I think that is a problem that has been a catalyst for a lot of the protest,” he said. “This cannot happen in the United States of America. This is very scary. It is scary to me and my husband and to the staff and my community…”
“Be focused in on our freedom to be able to protest and share our disgust and anger with those folks [who] deserve that anger. Call that out. But don’t get involved with the anarchists and provocateurs — and they’re here. They’ve been around for many years. They go from city to city and from issue to issue, trying to disrupt the system, the institutions,” said Richard.
“We know that under this administration, everyone is affected,” said Richard. “It’s important to know what our rights are and what ICE can do legally and illegally and when we go places — because we can’t just stay shut in. That’s what this administration wants us to do. They wanna shut us down. Go with friends. Go outside. Take a walk. Walk the dog. Go to the park. Let’s breathe some fresh air and rejuvenate.”
If that’s our intention on a daily basis, we will get through this. If we act collectively, we will get through this as a coalition.
Please go to the LGBTQ+ Freedom Fighters Substack for more reporting and the full 15-minute video conversation with Richard Zaldivar.
Features
How influencer Rose Montoya is using her platform to advocate for trans rights
She’s proving that the fight for trans liberation is personal, powerful and political
Fresh off a double win at the Los Angeles Blade Readers’ Choice Awards for Best Local Influencer and Best Local Activist, Rose Montoya is proving that the fight for trans liberation is personal, powerful, and political. Whether she’s educating millions through her “Trans 101” video series or speaking truth to power in meetings with lawmakers like Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, Bernie Sanders, Elizabeth Warren, and Pramila Jayapal, Montoya is redefining what it means to be a digital advocate.
“I imagine a world where trans people aren’t just surviving — we’re thriving,” she said. “A future where we have access to community, economic security, and the kind of care every human deserves.” It’s a vision she’s working to build through storytelling, education, and mutual aid. Most recently, Montoya brought that vision to a national stage with a keynote speech at the Human Rights Campaign’s rally for the National Trans Visibility March, held during World Pride in D.C.
She began her public journey in 2014 when she came out as trans, quickly gaining attention on social media for her heartfelt, vulnerable content. One of her early viral moments — a video sermon on LGBTQ inclusion — sparked transformative conversations within her conservative Christian family. “It wasn’t easy,” she recalled. “But over time, with patience and heart-to-hearts, they became some of my biggest allies.”
Since then her platform has exploded. Her “Trans 101” series, often featured in The Blade, breaking down topics like pronouns, gender-affirming care and systemic discrimination into accessible lessons with compassion. A video about discriminatory treatment at airport security led to consulting opportunities with the Transportation Security Administration (TSA). When her TikTok account got banned during a wave of coordinated attacks in 2021, she fought back — writing opinion pieces, launching petitions and assisting over 100 creators with getting access to their accounts reinstated. “When we organize, we win,” she said. “Digital storytelling is more than content — it’s community, resistance, and survival.”
“I’ve faced targeted media attacks, defamation, even threats on my life,” she shared. “It sharpened my resolve. I know how to advocate in hostile environments and I do it for those who can’t.”
Rose’s advocacy doesn’t begin or end on-screen. She’s opened her home to trans youth, facilitated access to housing and healthcare, donated thousands to gender-affirming surgery funds and supports her community through direct mutual aid.
“I know what it means to have your transition made possible through community,” she said. “I wouldn’t be here without the mutual aid I have received.”
That deep sense of purpose is rooted in legacy. “I’m standing on the shoulders of giants — Marsha P. Johnson, Sylvia Rivera, Miss Major, Cecelia Gentili,” she said. “They taught us that advocacy isn’t just about protest. It’s about building something sustainable.”
Still, Montoya noticed a shift in the broader cultural climate.
“There was a time when brands were eager to work with queer creators during Pride Month,” she explained. “Now, many of those same brands have quietly rolled back their DEI efforts. I’ve had partnerships disappear overnight. It’s become clear that, for some, the support was never rooted in real allyship.”
For her, it’s a reminder that advocacy can’t rely on corporate affirmation. It must be community-driven, values-led, and long-term.
As anti-trans legislation continues to spread, Montoya is focused on action. She urges allies to challenge harmful language — even when trans people aren’t in the room. She encourages donations, voting, petitioning and hiring trans people, especially Black, trans individuals. These aren’t symbolic gestures, she says — they’re essential tools in building a world where trans people can thrive. To learn more, visit her website.
When it comes to healthcare, she’s unwavering. “This isn’t just healthcare — it’s life-saving,” she says, pointing to recent cases like Children’s Hospital Los Angeles denying care to patients under 19, despite legal victories overturning similar bans. “Hospitals fear regret liability. But what about the harm of denying care? What about the youth who suffer, or worse, don’t survive?”
For Rose Montoya, advocacy is more than a platform — it’s a love letter to the future. “Our strength is in our solidarity,” she said. “We’re building a world where trans people aren’t just accepted — we’re celebrated.” Thanks to voices like hers, that world is already taking shape.
Written by Prince Joshua, a talented performer known for his high-energy dance, rap and MC skills.
Upon moving to Hollywood, he built a career as a Go-Go dancer and musical
artist, quickly gaining attention with his bold charisma. He has appeared on OUTtv and
performed at major events like WeHo Pride and Phoenix Pride. Prince Joshua was
named GoGo of the Year and Local Artist of the Year in the Los Angeles Blade’s
Readers Choice Awards, recognizing his impact and popularity in the LGBTQ+
entertainment scene.
Arts & Entertainment
Andrew Max Modlin Invites West Hollywood “Through the Brush”
From an iPad in Amerstand to a Canvas in Amsterdam: Modlin Presents “Through the Brush”
It is rare to step into a room where the walls ripple with Icelandic wind, hum with the volcanic heat of Hawaii, and pulse with a wide-eyed color of an Amsterdam trip. This June, West Hollywood becomes a gateway to this world with the arrival of Through the Brush, a pop-up solo exhibit by Los Angeles-based painter Andrew Max Modlin.
The show, curated by renowned critic Peter Frank, opens Saturday, June 7, with an artist’s reception from 4 p.m. to 9 p.m. and runs through June 21 in a studio located at 411 N. La Cienaga Blvd.
Expectations are high — featuring large-scale landscapes, a DJ set, libations and above all, the possibility of escape.
The paintings themselves are immersive 60” x 72” dreamscapes that pull directly from Modlin’s travels to Iceland, Hawaii, Mexico and Amsterdam. They serve as both visual memories and portals to another place in the world, inspired by his travels.
“Traveling is one of the most important things to me because it allows you to see outside your bubble and understand how diverse the world really is,” said Modlin.
He considers the places he visits as extensions of home.
“I immerse myself in what palette the location makes me feel and that immediately comes out in my drawings. It’s bringing that experience back to my studio that makes each painting so diverse because it really has the essence of that location in it.” As the show coincides with Amsterdam’s 750-year anniversary, Modlin says many of the works will be grounded in the city’s distinctive atmosphere.
To understand the intention behind Modlin’s paintings, it helps to understand the artist himself. Modlin is an openly queer artist best known as the co-founder and brand designer behind the cannabis dispensary MedMen and Kreation Organic Juicery. Though successful in business, the pull towards painting never left.
“The fact that I wasn’t painting haunted me all those years because I always felt like that was my life calling,” he said. For a change of pace, Modlin made a drastic change and relocated to Amsterdam. “In that time, I developed how I draw digitally on the iPad.”
That iPad plays an essential role in Modlin’s creative process. His digital sketches are more than rough drafts — they are explosive playgrounds.
“The iPad is where I get to be reckless,” said Modlin. “There’s something precious about a blank canvas but that sense of preciousness doesn’t exist on the iPad.” Without the fear of failure, Modlin can “rapidly sketch with colors that would take much longer to mix by hand,” pushing beyond the limits of traditional materials.
Back in Los Angeles, he focused on translation — how to bridge the digital and physical. “Once I move to the canvas,” explained Modlin. “The process shifts. It becomes more about the physicality of the paint and the act of painting itself than the original composition.”
That act is deliberate and cumulative. “My paintings are a slow, layered process where each brushstroke is a response to the one before it,” said Modlin. “The final piece becomes a record of that dialogue between gesture, surface, and duration.” His works aren’t meant to be consumed all at once — they reveal themselves slowly. Up close, hidden details emerge; from afar, emotions stir. “I hope the viewer starts by getting lost within the painting,” stated Modlin.
Modlin doesn’t see painting as a hobby — it’s a deep expression of self as his work resonates with lived experience. “I’ve always believed in the power of starting things within our own community.” That ethos led Modlin to open MedMen in West Hollywood, making him the first queer dispensary owner in the neighborhood. “With my debut solo exhibition,” said Modlin. “It felt just as important to me that it take place in West Hollywood, the community I live in and care deeply about.”
Through the Brush may feel like a breakthrough, but for Modlin, it’s just the beginning. “For me, success now means seeing my work shown around the world, in spaces that elevate and challenge it.” As Modlin imagines his next chapter, the invitation is clear: “I’d love for that visibility to open the door to working even larger on a scale that allows for something deeply expressive and immersive.”
Features
Tongue pops and truth: Alyssa Edwards on Pride, power and performance
Drag icon Alyssa Edwards talks legacy, love and the magic of living authentically—on and off stage
Alyssa Edwards is a drag icon who needs no introduction — but we’ll do it anyway.
Edwards’ star-studded career accolades span over two decades, earning her a spot on the RuPaul’s Drag Race: Hall of Fame and building an unmistakable legacy on charisma, uniqueness, nerve and undeniable talent.
From the dance studios of Mesquite, Texas, to gracing television screens around the world, Edwards has captivated audiences with her hypnotic wit, larger-than-life persona and unapologetic authenticity. Now, Edwards is bringing all of that and more to the OUTLOUD Music Festival this upcoming Pride month.
In my conversation with this queen among queens, Edwards opens up about the meaning of Pride, the honor of being named the first winner of Drag Race Global All Stars‘ first and what it truly means to live and perform out loud.
Whether she’s coaching young dancers at Beyond Belief Dance Company, laughing over their recollection of awkward first dates, or reflecting on the kinder-queer she once was, Edwards brings heart, honesty and hope to everything she touches. If nothing else, one thing is sure: Edwards is not just part of queer and drag history — she’s writing it.
Let’s get into it.
You’re performing at the OUTLOUD Music Festival. What do you do to prepare and what does it mean to you?
Well, first I wanna start off by saying this is a mega huge honor for me. This is a big year, being the very first Global All Star queen. She’s made it officially into the Hall of Fame. Getting the opportunity to be alongside all of these incredibly iconic performers. I can only say that I’m so honored.
As far as getting — well, right now I’m on tour. So, you know, It’s been a little bit of a juggling act these days. That said, I feel like since I’ve manifested this opportunity, it would only make sense that I bring the Texas size performance that everybody is expecting. This is a huge, huge moment, not only in my career, but also in time. I want to make a statement, I want to be proud, I want to be bold, and I definitely want to be out loud.
And of course [also] wrangling up the dancers and getting the idea of what the choreography is going to be. Right now we’re seeing so many artists come through. I mean, Lady Gaga reminded us this year with “Abracadabra” and its choreography that art is still alive and it is thriving. To me, this takes me back to a time when I would watch MTV and see these videos with this really fierce, synchronized choreography, hand gestures and elaborate costuming. All of this has just inspired me, motivated me and fueled me for this performance. You can expect me to deliver the best of Alyssa Edwards.
You mentioned having been a Global Queen. Did you anticipate returning after season 5 of RPDR:All Stars S2 and then eventually RPDR:Global?
This show really catapulted the Art of Dragon to mainstream television, but we just didn’t know if it was gonna continue on. So when I got the call to go on All Stars 2, four years later, after season 5, I was truly honored. And what a legendary season with a cast of genuine all-stars. After I left the show that year, I was very, very proud of what I presented. You know, something that I teach students over at my dance school, Beyond Belief Dance, is winning isn’t everything but the desire to [win] is. You’ve got to work hard and give it your all.
I didn’t really anticipate all of this. Back then, it just felt like a great opportunity. When Global was announced, with 12 queens from 12 countries and I found out I’d be representing — oh my gosh, good ol’ America — I had to pause. It felt like a huge responsibility. Drag in the U.S., especially through RuPaul’s Drag Race, has become the blueprint for so many franchises worldwide. So yes, I felt the pressure. But I reminded myself, just like I tell my students, show up as the best version of yourself and embrace the moment. Stand proud. Stand proud. Stand proud.
The night of the Global crowning, I stayed home with my partner. No big party, just a quiet moment to reflect. I wanted to honor the 24 years I’ve put into Alyssa Edwards. This wasn’t about validation or vindication. It was a victory lap. A celebration. And sometimes, when you’re having fun and doing what you love… look what comes from it. Now I’m in the Hall of Fame. So take that, and rewind it back.
When you’re preparing for a show like OUTLOUD, how do you plan to connect with your current supporters as well as the folks who might be new to you?
That’s a great question, and one I actually wrote about in my journal while preparing for this. I kept thinking: ‘how can I make this 15 minute performance reflect everything I’ve shared since first stepping onto television 12 years ago?’
I’ve had the chance to travel the world, and I wanted this set to be an accumulation of all those years, all those experiences, all the queerness, artistry and inspiration that shaped me. I wanted to pour it all into this one moment.
For new fans too, like you said, it’s been incredible. [During my last] meet and greet, I saw just how wide the range is. I was recently in Knoxville with my one-woman show, Crowned, and I met everyone from young queens who said: ‘I started watching you when I was 12,’ — which, made me feel a little old but also very proud — to a 70-year-old woman who came with her son and daughter-in-law. She told me she first saw me on Dancing Queen on Netflix, then found my America’s Got Talent performances and finally discovered Drag Race. She had followed my whole journey. She told me: ‘You deserve this. You made us all proud.’
As I walked away, I thought: ‘Wow. I used to be that kid in Mesquite, Texas, waiting on the world to change.’
And now? I’m part of that change. Talk about a plot twist and a trick of fate.
What was it like, kind of giving people a peak behind the curtain for Dancing Queen? What was it like to show people the version of yourself apart from your stage persona?
I mean, I’m not gonna lie, I’m being very candid when I say it was nerve wracking. You know, when you’re having to be unfiltered in every aspect of your life, you know, I am a man that wears many hats. If I am not wearing a wig and performing on stage, I have my teacher’s hat on or my coach’s hat on at the competition.
I have a very full life, and it is very fulfilling in the same aspect, but it is very busy. You’re seeing me in so many different settings and situations, and I really have to give myself credit for being vulnerable. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be that open because, believe it or not, I’m actually a pretty private person.
Looking back, I can laugh now. But at the time? I was embarrassed, just completely socially awkward. I mean, talking about potato salad? It was all kinds of wrong. But sometimes, you have to look back and just giggle. Like: ‘Queen, look at you now.’ Compared to where I was then, I’m in a happy relationship with my partner of four years and love is very much alive in my life. I’m proud of that awkward guy on that date. I’m proud I gave myself grace and permission to be fully, unapologetically me.
I want to go back to the fan of yours who started following your career when they were 12. How would you like to be perceived by the younger generation? What kind of message do you wanna provide them during today’s political climate?
A message of hope. That’s something I can answer quickly, because hope is one of the most powerful things we have. Sometimes it’s all we have. And I truly hope I can be a beacon of light and hope for others.
Growing up, I didn’t see anyone like me on TV. There was no RuPaul’s Drag Race, no Instagram to help me find my people or show me where I belonged. At 18, I had a pager and the Yellow Pages, and that’s how I stumbled across the gay clubs in Dallas. I’ll never forget walking into the cabaret drag room for the first time. It was like falling down the rabbit hole. I was Alice in Wonderland. I saw these bold, unapologetic entertainers, and I was captivated. But deep down, I thought, ‘There’s no way I could ever do that.’
Now, I think about today’s generation, how they can open their phones and instantly connect with their tribe, be inspired, and see themselves reflected in the world. I love that. Because drag gave me a voice. It gave me purpose. And I hope that through my journey, someone else finds theirs.
Whatever you’re going through right now, please, stay tuned. It gets better. At 18 and 19, life was just starting for me. I was shy, I didn’t have many friends, and I wasn’t sure where I fit in. I went to West Mesquite High – home of the Fighting Wranglers – and I mostly kept to myself. But thank God for dance. Those classes were my outlet, my way to express who I was.
I grew up in a home with a southern father who believed boys wore blue and girls wore pink. He valued hyper-masculinity, and there I was, painting my nails with my four sisters, wondering why I couldn’t just be me.
So yes, I’m proud to represent both the past and the present. Proud to be someone who made it through, who found their light, and who now shines it for others. That’s my message of hope: keep going. Your story is just beginning.
How do you celebrate your Pride off the page?
I celebrate Pride all year long. I’m 45, and every time I look in the mirror, I’m proud. I am proud of the man I’ve become, and proud of the storms I’ve weathered. There were times I didn’t have an umbrella. I just danced in the rain. I’m proud to love openly now, something I once felt I had to hide. Back then, I didn’t think the world would understand. But how can it, if we don’t share, teach, and live our truth?
To me, Pride means being fully authentic, transparent, joyful, dancing, singing, even if I’m off-key. It means not hiding anymore. There were years I stayed quiet, only dancing behind closed doors, afraid of what others might think. I didn’t want to make people uncomfortable. But sometimes, growth comes from getting comfortable with being uncomfortable. So yes, I celebrate Pride by living out loud, every single day.
All right. I don’t wanna keep it too long, but one last question, and this is kind of a fun one, but, uh, how does it feel to be honored by Jules and ti um, in season 17 with your iconic back rolls moment?
Oh my gosh, it was hysterical. And look, I didn’t know that was coming up. So I’m sitting at home with my partner and we’re watching it, and I was literally on the floor laughing. I messaged them, and I just was like, Bravo, great job. I think it’s incredible. That’s like the greatest honor, right? It’s like the standing ovation, you know, a good callback.
This was a really fun season and a fun batch of queens to watch on television. I’ll tell you, watching Jules do the makeup on her father really touched me so much. When their dad walks in and is like, Hey queen! That really hit me hard because it just was like, wow! This is the world changing right here. And these queens know who I am. And, once again celebrating pride!
I’m actually a huge fan of Onya Nurve as we’re both Cleveland natives. I’m proud of her. Talk about charisma…
Oh, I messaged Onya! I was like, you are a bright star. Keep shining. The story of Onya Nurve, and then that whole scene with the fathers, it was just like, so, I mean, empowering. It really, really, really touched me deeply. Hearing Onya Nurve share her story and how she can do everything – can sing, can dance, can act, is funny, has a look, knows how to do makeup, do makeovers. It’s like, wow, that’s the power of drag.
This whole group, this whole cast has a special place in my heart. I’m so proud of them. And I’m, I’m proud of myself that I’ve been a part of this legacy and I’m proud of everyone at World of Wonder and RuPaul, who championed this show for years and then got the opportunity to go on Logo 18 years ago. We’re on the 18th season now.
Onya is also in the lineup for the Outloud Festival…
She sure is. And I can’t wait to have the opportunity to kiki with her. I’m gonna get my photo too. I’m gonna have my little fangirl moment. So y’all get ready for that! This is going to be such a fun festival. I mean this lineup. And I just love celebrating every color of the rainbow and all the queerness that is going to be. You know, live loud and lit. We are going to be there. And, just seeing my name on the flyer, I still get a little giddy.
Anything that we should expect from your performance coming up?
You all already know what it’s gonna be. I mean, it’s showtime folks! I’m just truly honored, and I’m grateful that people are still living for the Alyssa Edwards shenanigans. And remember this Pride too. It’s important for us. Visibility is key. I love that this lineup is stacked on stacked. So thank you so much for the opportunity, and I’ll see you all there.
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