from BLAQUE/OUT MAGAZINE February 2024

THE PASS TO PRESENT THE PAST: COLMAN DOMINGO Brandy "Lade Breez" Elam

In January, Blaque/OUT Magazine was honored to be invited to the National LGBTQ Task Force, Creating Change Conference in New Orleans. It was such a rich, impactful and somewhat overwhelming experience that honestly, it’s going to take us a while to unpack, both in our own minds and for our readers. So to do it justice, we will feature a little bit at a time over the next few months from incredible interviews to pictures and reflections from our team.

Creating Change is in its 36th year and has grown from a group of 300 to a collective of nearly 3,000 attendees. Every year conferences take place in every field all over the country but CC boasts stats that can’t be claimed by most of them. Of the attendees, nearly a third identify as Trans or GNC (gender non-conforming) and over half as people of color. During the extended weekend, participants are invited to learn about strategies to preserve LGBTQ+ rights, network with folks doing similar or completely different work for their communities, and participate in sessions and seminars to hopefully help them do what they do better. The attendees are literally from all over the country and are made up of funders, direct-care workers, politicians, activists and CEOs.

Our first installment will feature my interview with POSE’s Jason A. Rodriguez and an overview of random thoughts and musings that we collected during our week at the Conference. There was SO much to take in from Plenary panels, individual sessions, and star-studded performances that we are starting with the notes we captured in our phones because those were the things that caught our attention in real time. A little random but very real and there is something to be said for the moments that catch your eye or ear.

So embark with us on our journey through the Crescent City, a town already bubbling with Queer culture, jazz in the air and magic on the menus.

“Ya’ll is all”- I don’t know, we heard it and it was cute- write it down. Can’t go wrong with ya’ll as a pronoun.
“Glittery Gumbo”- another cute one someone said. It may have been referring to the cuisine but we are pretty sure it was referring to the audience as a whole and the eclectic mix of LGBTQ+ audience members.
“I is illness, WE is wellness.” I would be lying if I said I didn’t end up with eyes full of tears almost every day of the conference. I am a crier, but the emotion wasn’t due to any profound statement or sentiment most of the time. It wasn’t even in seeing acts of kindness or inclusiveness that I witnessed. It was the simple being with so, so many LGBTQ+ people in one space. This work gets extremely lonely. It is hard everyday. Whether you work independently or as a collective, many of the battles feel like they are yours alone. It almost always feels like David and Goliath. Many days feel like you are surviving on caffeine, shots (take that as you will) and tenacity alone. Many days it feels like the battles are impossible but you keep fighting anyway. I got emotional AT LEAST once a day just being amongst so many people who were also showing up to fight. I got emotional seeing Queer people dressed in business suits or birkenstocks or booty shorts or silver skirts and walking confidently through a hotel on their way to a session. I got emotional remembering that there are ALOT of us. I got emotional every time they did a land acknowledgement or the ASL interpreters gave pointers to the crowd or we had to wait to find out what a Spanish speaker had said because presenters were encouraged to speak first in their own languages and for a change, the rest of us could wait to hear the translation. “I” is illness and “ we ” is wellness. I was struck by the palpable act of “ we ” .
The Executive Director of The National LGBTQ Taskforce, Kierra Johnson, made a point of repeatedly discussing the concept of “being in disagreement while staying in community.” In an election year, with what may be the fate of the entire Queer community looming in the balance, it is an extra interesting proposition to consider.
How often do the divisions within the community keep us from achieving as a community? I’m sure it’s something most marginalized groups have considered and grappled with. One of the plenaries during the convention focused on Democracy and Fascism. A panel of brilliant minds, with what seemed to be very differing perspectives, discussed the potential impending doom that lies just over the horizon as Democracy continues to be threatened. An Indigenous panelist pointed out the disservices Democracy has done to their people and the way that white supremacy and racism has harmed us all. I often discuss on panels and in consulting sessions that there is a misconception that the Queer community is all rainbows and YMCA renditions, when in fact it is simply a microcosm of larger society. I have personally experienced more racism at the hands of white Queer folks than I have anywhere else. It’s hard to convince a marginalized group that they have more privilege than another marginalized group. A second panelist argued later in the plenary that for the greater good, it’s time to band together and fight the fascist regime that is threatening to overtake us and live to fight another day, possibly literally. But it’s a question that continues to linger with me. Do we, for the time being, turn a blind-eye to the rampant racism, transmisia and misogyny ever present within Queerness to join arms against our shared enemy? I don’t have an answer for that. Another quote I recorded from Johnson was, “ our fates are intertwined whether I like you or not. I can’t get to freedom without you. ” Food for thought.
Mariah Moore of the Transgender Law Center, a native of New Orleans, spoke eloquently and shared similar sentiments about us needing to be in alignment and that, “everyone should live here free and borders should not exist.”
Human Rights Activist and Advocate, Li Anne Estrella Sanchez gave the most beautiful statement in Spanish that concluded with, “they can tie my hands and feet but never my heart or my spirit of resilience.” Periodt.
Kierra Johnson seems like someone that would be an absolute ki to have lunch with. Seeing how much she enjoyed saying “fuck that, fuck this, fuck it” while sitting in admiration of Miss Majors and also in the midst of very serious discussions managed to channel us all in those moments.
There were pleas for funders to end heavy reporting requirements that keep us tied up in offices instead of out in the world doing the work.
A reminder that “reparations mean repair”. Ashe’
A request for the Human Rights Campaign to review their Corporate Equality Index by Union workers. Is it really telling the story? The Union issue was another interesting one. At one point, Starbucks workers spoke to the crowd about their struggle and invited participants to visit their

table to get T-Shirts and goodies in a tabling area upstairs. The spirit of acceptance that met each presenter felt strained and tense in that moment. They were here and they were Queer so they were “on our side” but it was no secret that much of the audience was in the midst of boycotting Starbucks and heavily in support of a ceasefire and a free Palestine. It was softened only slightly by a story they told of Palestinian protesters who came to stand with Starbucks employees on a picket line. Later in the conference, in what wasn’t entirely clear was an invited interruption or an impromptu one. The Executive Director of the Muslim Alliance for Sexual and Gender Diversity, and also a Palestinian, joined by supporters with hand painted banners and Palestinian flags took to the stage and talked about the atrocities taking place in Gaza and of the funeral of a Palestinian from New Orleans happening at that very moment. They reminded us of the thousands and thousands of murders happening every day and that a call for ceasefire just simply isn’t enough, Queer and Trans Palestians, along with a hundred of the family members of one of the people on the stage were being and had been murdered. The simple act of resistance and solidarity in that moment, somehow restored balance to the room and the panel about Democracy continued.

It wasn’t the only moment that felt strange. There were times that folks called out inequities and racism and a lack of support of staff, understanding from funders and recognition of Trans folk and noted that many people guilty of those offenses were also sitting in these rooms. And I’m sure it happened many more times than I was present for. So how does one fix that?

When the people who make-up these very flawed systems are the people who most need to hear the message but ALSO are the people causing the problems and sitting in these rooms masquerading as accomplices- what is the solution? We face these battles everyday. Many of us are fighting the world, many of us are fighting the system within which we exist.

In the same vein, I sat with a colleague of mine in the only Caucus meeting I was able to attend. It was for the State of Florida and of great interest to me because of the political and legislative challenges facing the state and also because it is where I currently reside. Although the panelists were passionate and clearly very engaged in the work, the session felt clunky and didn’t hold the organizer mentality I was hoping to encounter. While facing such devastating reversals of rights and increasing danger to our Trans sibs, I was hoping to walk into a rallying call and strategy session I suppose, not a panel discussion. We know the problems, we live there, how are we going to fight?
I loved the tidbits of Louisiana Queer history that we got to hear about. I was glad to see the community stories and leaders that made it onto the program. I loved that they set up walking tours and opportunities to sight-see and visit the French Quarter which was within walking distance. One morning, I needed a break and some air, so I walked to Congo Square, somewhere I had never visited in my previous trips to the city. I walked alone the half mile or so it took to get there to gather my thoughts in the chilly air. I walked to the center of the simple gated park and stood before a sign that explained that it had been a spot where enslaved folks came to find little pieces of joy. They danced and socialized there; they found little pockets of freedom in that space. I stood quietly and knelt down to touch the ground upon which my ancestors once stood. There is soul and souls in New Orleans and I know in one of these lives I lived, I’d crossed this path before. On the way back, I happened upon a protest, which I joined. There are apparently developers seeking to overtake much of the Gulf Coast causing culture to be lost and people are getting sick. I stood as silent support, a body amidst the crowd. There is solidarity in protest, no matter what they tell you… the first Pride was a riot. And it was led by Black and Brown Trans folk.
“There are more Black folks down South than anywhere. Geographically there are more Queer folks in the South than anywhere else in the country.” I neglected to record who said it. I believe it was Ash-Lee Woodward Henderson of the Highlander Research and Design Center who just had me transfixed with their brilliance and candor every time they spoke. I don’t think it was a fact I knew before, I don’t know how, but it was striking to me for so many, what I think are, obvious reasons.
I made a note to make sure I mentioned “The Original Pinettes Brass Band.” Per their website, The Pinettes are “the ONLY female Brass Band in the Universe, was formed by Mr Jefferey Herbert in 1991. Each member born and raised in New Orleans, Louisiana, attended St. Mary's Academy High School, the historically Black all-girl Catholic school (HBHS). Beginning with 16 or more members, the Original Pinettes ended up with not only St. Mary's females but other female musicians around the city.” They were so talented and brought so much joy to the room after several long sessions and unfortunately didn’t have the audience they should have coming directly after Big Freedia. Even I had to run from the room on 1% to try to get prepared for the next thing. But they were some of those bits of amazing New Orleans bright spots that made the conference so special.
The extras: to my recollection, there was a wellness room that had meditations and massages, a game room that had video games you could pop in and play (I almost beat my baby daddy at Mortal Kombat- I think he was cheating), sensory rooms when you needed a break from the so much (because it truly was a lot to take in), there were opportunities to get out and enjoy the city, there were meet-ups at local bars and restaurants to get you some air and a new environment, there was a Ball, a Masquerade, and a Variety/Talent Show. There were so many things going on beyond sessions and classes, plenaries and caucus meetings. I’ve never witnessed a conference that managed to somehow pack in SO much. They say everything is bigger in Vegas, the home of next year's conference, so I can’t even imagine it getting bigger than it already is.
I GOT HUGS AND KISSES FROM MISS MAJOR GRIFFIN-GRACY AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, she took my hand, she called me over to sit closer to her, she set her hand on my leg as I awkwardly and embarrassingly gushed over her and I cried in the hallway after we left. She is gracious with her time and her encouragement beyond words. The quote I have always lived by is, “it's more important how you sit with the broken than how you walk with the great.” But that day I sat with an icon and I am forever changed.
The last thing I wanted to mention in this first installment was a tiny bookstore called the Community Book Center that we found packed into a corner of the hall where orgs and vendors tabled. One of the things I personally enjoyed most was flipping through the pages of the Black-Owned local bookstore’s selection to choose books to take home

with me. And my $75 overweight baggage fee told the tale. The owners talked with us as we flipped through Baldwin, hooks, Garvey, Queer children’s books and further collections that narrated the resistance. They are "more than a bookstore," Community Book Center is a literary, cultural and social hub on historic Bayou Road in New Orleans. For forty (40) years CBC has been the oldest Black-owned bookstore in the New Orleans area. PLEASE visit when you are in town or shop them at bookshop.org/shop/readcbc in their quest to keep giants like Amazon from eating the entire industry. Even that is an act of resistance!

So there you have it, my first installment of random musings from a week too big to fit in one issue. I hope you were at least kind of able to follow along. Come with us on this journey, as we bring you interviews from National LGBTQ Taskforce ED, Kierra Johnson and conference host, the incomparable, Raquel Willis.

...... And in the meantime.. Enjoy this AMAZING interview with Jason A. Rodriguez.

MEETING JASON IN PERSON YOU APPRECIATE JUST HOW GOOD OF AN ACTOR HE IS BECAUSE LEMAR WAS, AS JASON DESCRIBES HIM, “A SHADY ASS BUTCH QUEEN” AND JASON IS ANYTHING BUT. THE SECOND YOU MEET HIM, HE ENVELOPES YOU IN WARMTH AND HAS A GLOW THAT YOU CAN SEE FROM THE PAGES. I FELT LIKE I KNEW HIM FOREVER AND YOU WILL TOO.