Last month, I joined millions of others across the United States to protest the presidents authoritarian agenda. While I had previously participated in demonstrations against ICE raids in downtown Los Angeles and Pasadena, this time I looked a little different: I was swishing around in full drag. Despite the rising heat, I knew it was time to put on my finest feathers, shiniest sequins, and most pedestrian-friendly platforms to make my voice heard in the best way I know possible. And thankfully, I wasnt the only one bearing the message: No Kings. Yesss Queens!For some, putting on drag in the face of such urgent and violent threats may seem frivolous, self-indulgent, or even silly. But for us queens, kings, and other fabulous drag beings, drag isnt just our armor its the spark of political imagination that helps us both envision and enact a more equitable world. Related Teen dazzles prom in full drag as teachers & peers cheer him on: I love this side of myself Alfie Smith hopes his Barbie-inspired look can inspire other kids to be themselves. At a time when so many members of our intersecting communities are under attack including trans people, migrants, people of color, Palestinians, disabled people, and even drag performers directly (myself included,thanks to Marjorie Taylor Greene) we know that we need to not only join together to fight back, but we need to do so with a spirit of love and joy that eclipses our oppositions hate and fear. Dive deeper every day Join our newsletter for thought-provoking commentary that goes beyond the surface of LGBTQ+ issues Subscribe to our Newsletter today Although the past few months have been the most horrifying of my lifetime from a political standpoint, I frequently look to histories of drag for inspiration, not only for how to organize and protest, but also for the reminder that when we do, we can win.Recently, I had the pleasure of curating an exhibition at the One Institute entitledIts Where I Belong: 40 Years (and More) of Drag in West Hollywood. The exhibition features over 200 photographs, flyers, videos, costumes, and other commissioned and archival materials, sourced from institutions such as the ONE Archives at USC Libraries, as well as community contributions. While this exhibition was focused on a small city of less than two square miles, these artifacts demonstrate the power of drag more broadly. It is not merely entertainment; it is a folk art form that has played a critical role in building LGBTQ+ communities as well as queer and trans political power. Indeed, drag performers have played a central role in much of modern LGBTQ+ history, both locally and globally. A common refrain during the month of June is that the first Pride was a riot, led by trans and gender-fabulous drag performers of color like Marsha P. Johnson, Sylvia Rivera, Miss Major, and Storm DeLarverie who catalyzed New York CitysStonewall rebellion. But Stonewall was hardly the first or last queer nightlife uprising. In the middle of the twentieth century, an era of frequent police raids on gay bars a reality that should haunt and mobilize all LGBTQ+ people in our contemporary era of ICE raids on workplaces and public spaces many cities, including Los Angeles, were home to myriad moments of resistance.Some of this history has been mythologized in the public imagination, such as the Southern CaliforniaCooper Do-nuts riotof 1959 and theBlack Cat protestsof 1967, as well as the 1966Comptons Cafeteria riotin San Francisco. However, there has been less documentation of Los Angeless Innocent 9, a group of attendees at the 1972 Universal Ball held near downtown, who were arrested and charged with lewd conduct. While there were no reported protests in the immediate aftermath of the arrests, the groups legal defense committee held drag events, such as the 009 Ball, to raise both funds and spirits. As told by The Advocate, drag queen Missy performed a rousing rendition of the gay anthem This Is My Life, symbolically stripping out of drag and rousing the crowd to a standing ovation.While drag performances showcase the ineffable role of art in inspiring and documenting social movements, they also serve another function: fundraising for these movements and for mutual aid. The original 1972 Universal Ball was organized by Empress La Rey, the inaugural leader of theImperial Court of Los Angeles and Hollywood(ICLAH). This charitable organization has raised hundreds of thousands of dollars over more than five decades, all while poking campy fun at the very notion of monarchies. Indeed, ICLAH is part of the largerImperial Courtsystem that was founded in 1965 by San Francisco drag legendJos Sarria(who also happens to be the the first openly gay candidate to run for public office in the US), and now spans across North America, with local chapters working for LGBTQ+ rights and HIV/AIDS services, among many others, including recently raising funds for Angelenos impacted by wildfires.Similarly, theSisters of Perpetual Indulgenceare an order of drag nuns founded in San Francisco in 1979, who, in their own words, are dedicated to the promulgation of universal joy and the expiation of stigmatic guilt. Not only do the Sisters raise funds, but they also engage in political education and organizing work, such as creating Get Out the Vote posters and encouraging residents to contact their elected leaders. As part of their spiritual calling, the Sisters also routinely offer blessings at community events, from Pride and Dyke Day celebrations to last months No Kings protests. Their rituals set a simultaneously humorous and serious tone, channeling activists righteous rage alongside playful tactics. To that end, drags artistry also serves as a crucial form of commiseration and community education. In my own work withDrag Story Hourand as achildrens book author, Im delighted to share this enchanting art form with children of all ages as a way to expand their curiosity and imagination.However, even beyond these explicitly educational programs, drag has long served as a platform for political and cultural commentary, keeping our communities informed about issues affecting queer communities.At the Hard French pride party in San Francisco, I had the pleasure of performing my impassioned rebuttal to Rep. Greenes attacks to the aforementioned tune of This Is My Life, directly inspired by the Innocent 9 and in celebration of drag icons who have passed but whose own lights brightly led the way.These examples are only the tip of the glittering iceberg.In a moment when those in power attempt to promote conformity and foster panic, there are no better role models than the drag artists who have shown us not only how to stand up for ourselves and each other, but to do so with fierce attitudes, flawless looks, and flair for days.Whether one chooses to put on a pair of heels, a wig, or whatever version of drag feels best, we can all tap into that energy to keep fighting for peace, justice, and a bit of fabulousness, too.Subscribe to theLGBTQ Nation newsletterand be the first to know about the latest headlines shaping LGBTQ+ communities worldwide.