If you've ever found yourself giddy in a crowded venue as a drag performer belts one of your favorite pop tunes or been captivated by the gender-bending bliss of an episode of Drag Race, then you know just how powerful drag can be.
Like many art forms, it has the power to evoke, inspire, and be profoundly political. And the star of our latest Get Ready With Me segment, Gay Jesus, channels all of the above into their drag persona and performances.
We recently caught up with the fabulous drag king and burlesque performer — who's a force to be reckoned with on the Canadian drag scene — to talk spreading trans joy, what it means to cultivate an authentic drag persona, art as a catalyst for social change, and so much more.
From acting to theatre to drag performances, it seems like you have a lot of spinning plates these days. Tell us about what you’ve been up to lately!
As I type this out I’m actually recently returned from Winnipeg as of two days ago. I was there for two months working with Prairie Theatre Exchange on the world premiere of Volare by Elio Zarrillo.
It was my second time visiting, as my first was just last summer when I flew out to perform in drag for the Cluster Festival and Canada Pride. It’s incredibly special to me to be able to center my communities in the work that I do and to be invited into ones outside of my own is always very moving to me.
I knew from early on in my work as an artist that I wanted the messaging in my artistry to push for social progress and to celebrate intersectional queer visibility, but I think the more I do it, the more amazed I am that this gets to be my job.
There were a lot of moments when I was told that this wouldn’t be possible, that even just being out would wreck my ability to work. But it’s actually given me the ability to connect so deeply with my community and to collaborate with artists whose morals and values reflect and even inspire mine.
This past year, I got the chance to play Arrow on the CBC and HBO Max original series Sort Of, and if you told me that would’ve been my future when I first started my career, I don’t know if I would’ve even been able to imagine what that looked like.
I feel very similarly about drag. Performing as a drag king and as Gay Jesus has always felt very sacred to me. But since returning from lockdowns, the best way to describe the level of joy I feel is to tell you that my job involves me looking into a sea of happy queer people. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Last year, you performed virtually (due to COVID) for Knix HQ’s Pride party. How does it feel to be performing in person once again?
Ah, the virtual Knix HQ Party was one of the highlights of my Pride last year! Being back to in-person performances brings so much joy to get to see community in the flesh, however I must admit that there’s also an undercurrent of fear that’s constantly running through me.
Realistically speaking, Covid-19 is still very much present and threatening people’s health. If I’m totally honest, I’m constantly wondering if we’re all about to get sick and I’m constantly looking at rooms and wondering who’s missing.
There’s so much life in every room I get to step into, but I can’t help but think about how many people should still be here had this pandemic been handled differently and noticing who in our community is still unable to come out because of the lack of precautions in place.
There are many disabled members of our community and people who are immunocompromised or people who live with loved ones who are immunocompromised who’ve expressed frustration and their inability to come back to community spaces.
So it’s a mixed bag. There’s joy, there’s deep frustration, and there’s a lot of work left to be done.
As a drag artist and burlesque performer, you seamlessly weave together masculine and feminine elements. How have you cultivated a drag persona that feels authentic to you?
I think three major elements that have allowed me to cultivate a drag persona that feels authentic to me have been listening to my gut instincts no matter how absurd they may seem, constantly learning, and giving myself permission to evolve.
Everyone has different things that excite them, different songs that give them chills, different favourite shades of lipsticks, different tastes for food. The same can apply to art and to creation.
As Gay Jesus I get to have full creative control over my creations and performances. No matter what’s around me and what I may perceive to be good or right, I’ve learned that I really have to lean into what excites me and what piques my interest.
It’s like when you hear a scientist get excited talking about their specialty. I’ve learned that I have to give myself permission to dive into my strange little interests even though they may seem off, or not necessarily correct. Those are always where the exciting bits live.
When we think of refining a craft, it’s often viewed in an academic sense, but as an artist I think of it more so in the ways we absorb the world. There’s so much I don’t know and the more I feed my brain, the more it has to play with and the more it can be inspired by.
Then there’s giving yourself permission to evolve. It’s something we do on a daily basis whether we want to or not which means that, because we’re changing as people, our artistry is also perpetually in flux.
It can be jarring sometimes to change parts of your work that feel foundational, but I think it’s important to honor who you’re becoming. I will say though, that the part that’s helped me re-find my center throughout these evolutions, has been returning to my roots and asking myself why I create art and perform drag in the first place.
The answer gets to change depending on where I’m at, but it’s always what helps me grounds my performances no matter where they may be growing toward.
Drag is political — and with the influx of anti-drag and anti-trans legislation taking place down south, it feels like that has never been more true. Do social politics feel central to your work?
Social politics are absolutely central to my work. Politics were actually my main interest when getting involved with the arts in the first place.
Art, in its many forms, is a huge catalyst for social change, social commentary, and for activism. I’ve found that incorporating conversations about human rights, social change, and injustice into drag as a form of performance art and as a form of protest actually helps in tearing down barriers in terms of who feels they can be a part of those conversations.
Drag performance has the potential to transcend class and language in a way that makes these conversations accessible. It not only allows people to feel heard and seen, but it lets them know that they, too, get to be empowered in their voices.
What we’re seeing in regards to anti-drag and anti-trans legislation in America, and knowing the increase in protests and violence against 2SLGBTQ+ people in Canada, it makes me sick.
This idea that children need to be protected from drag artists and from trans people is incredibly transparent. Drag performers and trans people do not threaten the safety of children.
People and politicians who seek to control the bodies and educations of citizens in order to strengthen propaganda that targets the eradication of a marginalized group of people are the threat. Violence this severe needs to be called out for what it is and it needs to be stopped in its tracks.
How can folks — community members and allies alike — push back against these injustices and offer support?
This is such a big question but I think there’s a variety of things that can be done. I think firstly reaching out to your local government is extremely important.
We often forget, in the day to day, that our government works for its citizens. It’s fully within your rights to write and/or call your municipal, provincial, and even federal representatives.
Let them know that the protection of queer artists and of 2SLGBTQ+ rights is important to you. Ask them where they stand on it, what they’re doing to protect the queer community against current attacks, and what their steps are moving forward to prevent an attack on human rights.
Secondly, I think getting active within your community is super important. Learn the queer history of where you live and look into what community groups and organizations are there that you can contribute to. Learn from local activists and listen to what they’re asking for on a local level.
The more queer voices and perspectives we take in, the more it also allows ourselves to dismantle the pre-conceived notions that we may have internalized over time while also supplying us with the information it takes to open these conversations with friends, loved ones, and co-workers.
That’s where the potential discomfort comes in. Sometimes it’s hard to face some of the notions we hold, but we do need to confront them if we want to build a stronger society overall. Additionally, sometimes one on one conversations are really hard to have, but it’s in letting it slide that we allow these violences to build over time.
And finally, if it’s new to you or depending on your history with protest, it can be hard to put your body on the line and show up for protest and/or counter-protests. But I think it’s important to remember, whether it’s as allies or as queer people, that it’s Black and Latinx Trans Women that we have to thank for the rights we have today.
People who were sex workers, people who were poor, people who were Mad. People who lived in the most marginalized sector of our society who stood up and said no more.
I think that part of how we honor the work they did is by standing up and saying no more as a community and in a way that protects our most marginalized so that we’re able to achieve progress in a way that is supportive and equitable for our entire community.
On a lighter note, how are you planning on spreading trans joy this Pride?
BY SMILING AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE. That sounds so silly, but it’s truly part of my plan. I love my job, it’s honestly such an honor to get to do it every day. Part of how I plan on spreading trans joy this Pride is by celebrating and uplifting the trans people in my life on a personal level.
On a public level and on an artistic level, this year I’m thinking a lot about what it means to share the notion that it’s entirely possible to have a future as a trans person and to grow super amazingly old.
I turn 30 this year which is super young but, as a trans Latinx person, that technically means I’m entering my years as an elder. There’s nothing right about that, and I think a lot of our youth know that.
I think a lot of our community at large feels that very deeply across the board. But recently, while working with Prairie Theatre Exchange in Winnipeg, we had some GSA’s come and see the play and we got to read feedback from some of the students. There were a couple of them who spoke about how seeing a trans actor onstage gave them hope for their futures and for the world.
It reminded me of my wonderful friend and legendary activist Lezlie Lee Kam. Lezlie does this beautiful thing, where they wish for you to become a queer elder one day. The day they imparted that to me entirely changed the course of my life because it told me that I had a future, that I had the option of getting old.
It’s been a gift that I cherish very deeply. I hope that I can honor them and that teaching by making it known that trans futures are entirely possible. That our lives get to be lush, and exciting, and complicated, and loving, and full, and long.
Controversial question: if you could only perform one song for the rest of your life, what would it be?
HOW DARE YOU. Weirdly, even though I have yet to perform it in person, the only song that’s played in my head every time I’ve read this question has been No Me Queda Más by Selena.
I sometimes like to think that I’m very chill and not dramatic and then I remember that I’ve been singing passionate heartbreak songs in Spanish since I had baby teeth. This song carries so many memories for me from moments shared with my family, to moments alone, to moments with the chosen family I get to have in my life today.
Additionally, it embodies such a richness of emotion. It carries deep love, it carries extravagance, it carries rage. But I think the thing that gets me about it is that it’s so brutally honest.
In our day to days, we don’t always like to admit how we feel, and this song not only voices it, but it makes no apologies for the levels at which it loved and the levels at which it’s lost. I think that’s one of the most beautiful things in the world.
Is there anything else you want our readers to know?
THAT THEY’RE AMAZING?! Yes. That they’re amazing. It means so much to me that anyone would take interest in my art and what I do, so it means a great deal that Knix reached out to me and that your wonderful readers would take the time to get to know me through this interview.
If they’d like to follow more of my adventures and come visit me throughout Pride events, the best place to find me is on Instagram.
I’m so grateful for what I do for a living, but I’m most grateful for the people that drag and burlesque has brought into my life and the ways they’ve deeply impacted my relationship to the world and my relationship to myself.
When I was trying on my new Knix garments just now, I looked in the mirror and smiled and it made me think of all the people that have made it possible for me to love myself while standing in the mirror in my underwear.
I hope today that you take the time to look in the mirror, whether you’re in your skivviest skivvies or just knowing they’re hiding under your outfit, and give yourself a smile.
You deserve every ounce of it.