'We take care of us' is more than a slogan–it's the motto of a revolution

"We take care of us" is a phrase with deep roots, from the Black liberation movement to various intersectional liberation movements of today. It reflects a long-standing ethos that when mainstream systems fail to care for marginalized people, the community steps up to support one another.

In the words of Sylvia Rivera, "The system is not designed to protect us, but we will protect ourselves."

Our adventures took us through various queer events and marches, showcasing the full spectrum of queer experiences. We witnessed the shared joy of dancing and celebrating, the unique expressions of truth and love, and the profound ways we offer support and care to one another in times of need.

​June 21st, 2025

Pride weekend started a week early for us with GMHC's legendary Latex Ball. Emolsa invited us to watch him walk in the Body category. The last time I attended the Latex Ball was the first weekend I moved to New York City at 17. Walking around, we admired the purposeful chaos. Every available space was overflowing with people helping each other dial in their show-stopping looks.

We helped Emolsa prepare his outfit, just as we've done for each other countless times throughout our friendship. Ball culture never fails to inspire me with how showing up like true family makes anything possible.

"To me, 'We take care of us' looks like my friends showing up—again and again—for my ballroom scene competitions," Emolsa shared. "Not because they have to, but because they want to. Because they understood what it means for me to step onto that floor—to pour my heart into every move, every look, and every battle."

​June 25th, 2025

Wednesday evening was one of my favorite regular events, Queer Aperitivo, organized by Ora Wise. I try never to miss this because I love the kind of space Ora has been cultivating for over a decade now. One built with genuine love, intentionality, and diversity.

"We need spaces to gather that tend to our whole selves–not pitting pleasure against principles or erasing our grief as we take a moment to release." Ora Wise shared with me. With the sun setting on the garden rooftop, friends and family all danced together.

I connected with friends old and new. Buzzing after meeting the creator of gorgeously square-shaped cocktail jello shots, a duo of Indigenous artists, a lesbian distiller, and someone who up-cycles clothes and hosts queer art markets, among many others.

​June 26th, 2025

After work, we walked over to Papi Juice Pride on the Christopher Street Pier. We danced until sunset with DJ Mazurbate, who skillfully blended songs from across our cultures and generations. The energy was euphoric and familial. Everyone cheered as a grandmother jumped into the voguing circle, and again when Mazurbate's mom stepped out during the final song to kiss him.

"We take care of us because, in this world, community is all we have. Kindness, gratitude, and grace go a long way," Ms. Fantasia 007 reflected after voguing that night. "We can't forget that there is always the generation before us that is ready to pass the torch and the generation after us watching how we hold ourselves and each other with love and accountability."

From there, we went to Eli Escobar's bar Gabriela, where Eli was spinning with our friend from New Orleans, Bouffant Bouffant. Gabriela's Romance Thursdays is a staple for us because of the emotional storytelling he curates. It's immersive and cinematic, creating an atmosphere where we can feel all our emotions: nostalgia, joy, heartbreak, and the reasons to keep living and loving.

The entire staff feels like family, and it's my tradition to take a Polaroid of my girl Ekin behind the bar, where we share our latest adventures once the crowd dies down. As the night drew to a close, I found myself crying to Mazzy Star's "Fade Into You." Hearing it this time, after this song has seen me through so many intense phases of life, allowed me to have the cathartic cry I needed in Roland's arms.

​June 27th, 2025

One of my favorite days of the year: DRAG MARCH. On the Friday of Pride weekend every year, queers don their queerest looks and gather in Tompkins Square Park to march the width of the city to Stonewall. The energy here is electric, with looks that will have you cackling from the sheer audacity and ingenuity. I love Drag March because it preserves the history that Pride was and always will be a protest.

The march began in 1994, 25 years after the Stonewall riots, when Pride banned drag queens and leathermen from participating in the parade. This led activist Gilbert Baker, the creator of the Pride rainbow flag, to help organize it. Every year I attend, I fall deeper in love with my queerness and the community that surrounds it.

During the march, I encountered Qween Amor channeling Mary Magdalene: carrying a boombox on wheels, waving a cross, and twerking in front of police cars. I was in awe of the freedom and courage displayed in claiming bodies as sacred; fearless, proud, and loud.

"To some, protest means chaos, disruption." Qween Amor said. "They call it unpatriotic. But protest is love in action. It's people showing up to say we deserve better."

​June 28th, 2025

On Saturday, I missed the Dyke March because I was moving into a new apartment. After getting settled into my new space, we went to Get Wrecked & Carry's magically sweaty dance party at Knockdown Center. Once I was comfortably immersed in the sweaty soup, I was once again amazed by the level of consideration that went into the experience.

From the musical journey, to the lighting, to the variety of spaces that allow you to choose your own adventure. I stood outside gazing into the eyes of a new friend for what felt like an eternity, as he told me, "For some of us this is church, and we come to this place to worship." It left me feeling cleansed as I step into this next chapter of my life.

​June 29th, 2025

Pride Sunday started with the Queer Liberation March. I love this gathering because it's a protest that reclaims the roots of Pride. It takes place simultaneously with the official parade but without corporate sponsorship or police involvement. It was filled with activists, organizers, and families coming together in love and solidarity.

"Supporting our trans siblings is not a burden or a question; it is an action," said Yves Mathieu East. "And I will say yes to the action till the day I take my last breath. I showed up for trans people, and what Pride means to me is showing up for trans people."

From there, we went to the Glitterbox/Tiki Disco/House of Yes Pride Party on the Greenpoint Waterfront. It was a hot day out and we had to keep each other hydrated and covered until the sun set. We ran through sprinklers and did arts and crafts like we were kids again.

We decorated a white parasol that was gifted to me by my friend Diana Adams. Diana was tabling with the nonprofit Chosen Family Law Center, which offers free legal services to low-income transgender communities and queer families. There were so many of these surprise run-ins, all filled with moments of care. While looking for sunscreen, I was directed to the SafeRaveNY tent, where I met a new friend, Amethyst, who explained the grassroots organization's mission of harm reduction.

Pure magic unfolded as we watched the sun set, cooling us off and revealing rainbows across the city skyline. It felt like the kind of magic we earned together.

"For so many of us, the places we come from-the families, neighbors, churches, communities, etc, do not give us care," performer Glow Job shared, walking around the waterfront in rainbow stilts. "They do not teach, they do not love, they do not support, they do not care. But our queer family does that...The privilege we have as queer people is that from a scarcity of care, we have found an abundance of care together."

June 30th, 2025

Running on fumes, Monday night we went to my favorite drag show of all time: Sasha Velour's Nightgowns! I've been going religiously since 2017 on a fateful day when my friend Timmy had an extra ticket. I cried then, and I cry every single time. This time around, Sasha tickled us as a drag king reading Judith Butler's "Gender Trouble."

(video by Justin Barton, @olivertheuniverse)

Naomi Smalls had us screaming as she transitioned from a dog to a cat, and Vander gagged us with a gothic burlesque number that ended with black hearts stapled all over her body. Sasha creates a stage for drag performers to tell a transformative story. During the show, Sasha shared what we've all come to understand: "Family, new possibilities, transformation and joy is available at every corner, we just need to make it."

I'm revitalized and recommitted to showing up, now more than ever, for myself and for all of us.

Arranged for Out.com by Nikki Aye, Digital Photo Editor

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