It’s Pride month, sinners, and with that comes a melange of
rainbow-slathered everything. Yay, love! Yay, parades! As queerness becomes
more marketable, however, it risks becoming more whitewashed. So! To keep
the “homo” out of homogenization, we spoke with the city’s queer and
creative about the media that influenced them most as they were coming
out—a reminder that there’s no one right way to forge an identity.
Joe Lewis, drag performer
32, he/him/they/them
There was this online publication called Curfew that [was] all about the
party scene in D.C., and I used to read the hell out of it and image the
exciting gay life I’d escape to. I had to hide my sexuality in the
beginning, so I would pilfer through my mom’s CD collection—she had all the
Celine Dion, and she also had some KD Lang stuff. When I really want to get
in touch with my gayness, that’s what I put on.
Devlyn Camp, creator of the Mattachine podcast
26, they/them
As I was coming out, I was simultaneously wrapped up in my first
relationship. He was the lead of our county summer musical, and we were
bonding over Moulin Rouge—a story about a forbidden romance
between a writer and the star of a musical. Right on the nose, huh? I knew
I was attracted to men physically, but not quite ready to accept that
romance with them was real. The first line of the climactic song “Come What
May” really made my feelings for him sink in: “Never knew I could feel like
this / Like I’ve never seen the sky before.” It’s camp, but the stakes are
serious. With one foot grounded in painful drama, the absurd moments are
even more hilarious. What’s queerer than that?
Liz Dumler, activist and nightlife host
28, she/her/they/them
Dolly Parton as a whole entity was very important to me growing up. There
are few country icons who are both meaningful to queers and traditional
Appalachian families. Dolly Parton was that crossover for me. I could sing
along to her songs with my country-proper grandpa and nothing about it felt
strange or forced, and I knew it was meaningful to both of us. I remember
seeing Dolly playing the banjo with inch-long acrylics, and my country
femme idol appeared just like that. Being a high, hard femme from the
country (or what I lovingly call a “dirt femme”), I try to show that there
are more dynamics to us Appalachian queers while still doing work to
support my home, even from a distance—I learned that from Dolly.
Sky Cubacub, owner-operator of Rebirth Garments
26, they/them
Xena: Warrior Princess
has always been the most important piece of media to my queerness. I
watched it when it aired on TV originally, and I have rewatched it many
times (four full times in the past year alone!). I can’t believe people
minimize Xena and Gabrielle’s relationship, especially when Xena literally
introduces Gabrielle as her “soulmate” to Xena’s former female lover’s
ghost—and they also have a baby together! It was very important for me to
see these amazing queers dress whatever way they wanted—and it is for
themselves and not for others—while kicking some serious butt.
Brendan Fernandes, artist
39, he/him
We didn’t have the Internet when I was coming out, so things like Bikini
Kill and riot grrrl zines were so important—they gave me the sense that
other people were out there, which was so empowering. I was living in the
suburbs of Toronto, but I would write letters and then get a zine in the
mail.
Alex Grelle, Shelley Duvall impersonator and cocurator of Ordinary
Peepholes
32, he/him
I’m embarrassed to admit this because the show has turned into trash, but
the Real World on MTV had a huge influence on me. I was only
supposed to like girls, but when Danny from Real World: New Orleans was introduced to me in my early high
school years something clicked. I knew I was gay and OK with it. I’m still
hoping Danny and I can get married.
Morgan Martinez, editor in chief of Hooligan Mag
23, she/her
When I was younger, it was a lot of Paramore, a lot of Bleached, a lot of
Tegan and Sara—old Tegan and Sara—it was a very pure time. Back then I just
listened to whatever made me feel good—I’m a lot more conscious of what I
listen to now, but I think I just really needed that in the moment.
Rivka Yeker,
cofounder and managing editor of Hooligan
Mag
21, she/her/they/them
In high school, I started listening to a lot of feminine punk bands and emo
music made by nonbinary folks and noncismen. I’d internalized so much
misogyny when I was younger and had just dismissed womanhood, so that was a
way for me to reengage.
Pidgeon Pagonis, intersex activist, educator, and filmmaker
32, they/them
My mom told me that she used to put on Michael Jackson’s Moonwalker tape when I was little and I would just watch it over
and over again. There’s a queer aesthetic to Jackson’s performances and his
way of being. He was an adult who preferred to live in a world of childlike
fantasy, which is queer in and of itself. Living in place called Neverland
with a chimpanzee? That’s the queerest thing ever to me.
Vicente Ugartchea, artist
28, he/him
The core of horror films rests in the fear of the abject and the unknown,
so women’s bodies, queer themes, and biofluids are forefronted in many
films. I gravitated to the horror genre for this very reason. I remember
watching Sleepaway Camp when I was around eight years old and
while my family was absolutely repulsed by the film, I sat there marveling
at the protagonist. Here was a trans girl trying to navigate a world that
was constantly assaulting her, citing essentialist notions of womanhood
which reflected real-world trans experiences. However: She. Fought. Back.
Sean Estelle, national network coordinator, Power Shift Network
26, they/them
The single most important piece of media to me as I was coming out was Angels in America. It was my freshman year of college, I had just
landed a part in an ensemble of mostly graduate students putting up
Chekhov’s The Seagull, and I was going through a crisis of self
because of the desires I was feeling and the humanity of the queer people I
was coming into relationship with. Eventually, I came out to the whole
cast, and one of them handed me the text of Angels and told me to
read it. The play resonated in a deep way—it was trying to tell a story at
the same mythological level as the Bible stories I was raised on. And it
worked!
Brittany Meyer, founder and producer of Strip Joker
27, they/them
One of the biggest pieces that influenced me was Ellen DeGeneres’s The Beginning. At the top of the hour, she does an interpretative
dance of what it’s been like since coming out—it was hilarious, and sad,
and uplifting, and perfectly kicked off her doing an hour of comedy, almost
entirely unaffiliated with that. The first time I watched it was with my
homophobic half sister—she’s the one who put it on for us. It was odd for
me to see her enjoy Ellen’s comedy while hating her sexuality—in
retrospect, I was very conflicted. Why is it that she gets to enjoy her
jokes but vocally disapprove of her sexual orientation, to actively vote
against her? To relate to her so much to laugh, but refuse to let her marry
another woman and be against her living her life openly gay?
Gnat Rose Madrid, fetish-wear designer and manager of Duro Latinx dance
party
27, she/her
My root is definitely Ursula from The Little Mermaid: She was a
voluptuous femdom drag queen, and that excited me. When I came out to my
family, I watched an MTV documentary about AFAB [assigned female at birth]
nonbinary folks called Gender Rebels. This resonated with my own desire
spectrum and helped me understand my queer attractions and personal gender
journey.
Mika Tosca, climate scientist
33, she/her
One of the most influential movies for me as a child was Ferngully
, which propelled me to become a climate/environmental scientist. The
protagonist is a female fairy and even though I was assigned male at birth,
I always imagined myself as her—fighting corporations and being a badass
chick. I’m still inspired by the concerted effort to save the rain forest.
Mark Joseph Jeffery, artist, professor, and choreographer at Atom-R
45, he/him
Right now, I am obsessed with Borderline, Madonna’s first album.
The guy who produced that album and started her career, Reggie Lucas, just
died. Those songs are really extraordinary and beautiful.
Joseph Varisco, program director of Queer, Ill + Okay and Salonathon
curator
33, he/him
I came out early in high school and faced all the standard retaliations
from classmates, loss of friends, estrangement from family, and abandonment
from the church I had so long been involved with. I found myself going to
see plays such as Machinal by Sophie Treadwell, which is about one
of the first women to face a death sentence by electric chair. The last
scene still provokes me: the character sits at the end of the stage, hair
shaved off, strapped down to the electric chair crying out to anyone to
help her. I also filled my days with sci-fi series—I loved watching Quantum Leap with my dad—Scott Bakula shirtless was not to be
missed. Watching his character inhabit so many different bodies illuminated
an early fascination with queerness.
Scott Cramer, cofounder of A Queer Pride, a Pride month event planning
organization
36, he/him
Deee-Lite: the music, art, and intersection that the band and Lady Kier
created in the
The 90s meant so much to me. It got me to dance, made me feel good about
who I am, and gave me hope at times when I struggled. The music is also
timeless for me—I can put it on today, and it still takes me back to the
first time hearing it. Over the years I’ve had Lady Kier out to DJ and
perform at a number of events including my 30th birthday.
Abhijeet, cofounder of A Queer Pride
25, they/them
I grew up in Mumbai, India, where I lived for 19 years before moving to
Chicago for school. I wound up consuming a lot of Western pop culture, and Invisible Monsters by Chuck Palahniuk was instrumental in forming
my trans identity before I figured it out. I read it when I was 16, and it
introduced me to characters who were trans and nonbinary, who were flawed
and struggled, who made ends meet and were resourceful. It helped me
understand that wanting to change your body is body positivity but also
that there aren’t any rules to understanding or accepting your body.
Melissa Hespelt, cofounder of A Queer Pride
21, she/her
When Ariel from The Little Mermaid whined, “I’ve got gadgets and
gizmos aplenty. I’ve got whozits and whatzits galore. You want
thingamabobs? I’ve got 20. But who cares? No big deal. I want more,” my
five-year-old self felt it deep in her glamour-queen soul. Beyond that, the
videos and images I discovered of icons like Amanda Lepore, Lil’ Kim,
Madonna, and Dolly Parton solidified my own ability to play around with
high femme presentation while maintaining control and enjoying my own
self-expression.
J Wilson, cofounder of A Queer Pride
25, they/them
When I was first coming out, I was listening to the Scissor Sisters
constantly. Their wild, provocative sound and Jake Shears’s story of
escaping his religious family to travel to New York City resonated with me
like nothing had before. Their album Night Work gave me a road map
from an adolescence filled with video gaming and self-denial to a
glamorous, gritty life among society’s outcasts where people survive on
what they can.
Albert Williams, associate professor of theater, Columbia College
Chicago, and former editor of GayLife and Windy City Times (and longtime Reader contributor)
“No way,” he/him
The literature that most influenced me when I was coming into a sense of my
gay identity, as a teenager in the 1960s, were Gore Vidal’s novels The City and the Pillar and Myra Breckenridge, Patrick
Dennis’s novel Tony, and the 1968 play The Boys in the Band.
Kristen Kaza, cultural producer at No Small Plans, Slo ‘Mo, and Reunion (and also former Reader director of marketing)
32, she/her
My dad got me a BMG music subscription, and he’d let me pick whichever
albums I wanted as long as two were Christian. This was one of those deals
where you bought a CD for $20 and then got, like, seven free. I fell into
obsessions with the Lilith Fair era of Sarah McLachlan, Tracy Chapman, and
Tori Amos, as well as the 90s era of R&B powerhouses like Mary J.
Blige, Aaliyah, and Toni Braxton. And while most of these artists aren’t
gay per se, it was through music that I discovered and explored my
sexuality and sense of identity, inspired to be strong, independent,
sensual, and proud like the women I listened to. I had insomnia as a teen,
so I’d stay up all night listening to music, making mixtapes and writing
poetry about people I was pining for. Like, what’s more lesbian than that? v
Correction: Joseph Varisco’s name was misspelled in an earlier version of this story.