For drag performers, the pandemic has brought canceled gigs, shuttered bars and financial hardships—but also an important pause to imagine a more sustainable and inclusive way forward for queer nightlife once we’re able to gather again.
That’s the mindset of the producers of Oaklash, the drag festival that spotlights performers of different genders, generations, cultures and styles—glitzy, campy and avant-garde alike. If this were a normal year, hundreds of fans would have packed the backyard of Classic Cars West to see Peaches Christ’s macabre antics, RuPaul’s Drag Race Thailand champion Angele Anang and the playful, provocative Nicki Jizz. Instead, the festival will take place as a digital drag extravaganza on Twitch during Oakland Pride weekend, Sept. 4–6.
“Part of the sensibility of the Bay Area is that diversity, and we hope we can build more stages for that,” says Mama Celeste, who co-founded Oaklash with fellow drag performer Beatrix LaHaine in 2018. The duo has spent weeks putting together a lineup that unites performers from popular online drag shows such as Digital Drag, hosted by Biqtch Puddin, and The Stud’s Drag Alive. At Oaklash, some of the segments will be self-produced by the artists at home, and others will be shot at San Francisco club Oasis, with a multi-camera set-up and special effects.
With Oaklash coming to fans’ living rooms, there’s a new opportunity to have intimate conversations that would have been difficult in a packed club. Saturday includes a slate of panels about disability justice, anti-racism and the future of drag after COVID-19. These conversations are already happening among drag performers and show producers; now, they have the chance to call in their audiences and rally them to action.
The Black Lives Matter movement has inspired many realms of the arts to take stock of their complicity in racism, and the queer nightlife community is no exception. In late July, drag performers Militia and Afrika America, who are both part of Saturday’s Oaklash anti-racism panel along with Lucy Stoole, participated in a town hall about racism and safety in LGBTQ+ nightlife after a survey from the Bay Area Queer Nightlife Coalition revealed histories of racism and transphobia at several of San Francisco’s most popular gay bars.
Similar town halls about race and equity in queer nightlife have taken place in Chicago and Philadelphia, and Oaklash presents an opportunity to continue the conversation. “All of us have really been talking about the same things: it’s tokenization and equitable treatment,” says Militia, describing a culture of booking one Black drag queen per show to “fill a quota,” unequal pay and lack of promotion for Black performers.
“For me, the bar owners who have the most issues—I don’t know that they’re actually doing the work right now besides waiting for it to blow over,” she says. “Which is fine, because the community is now watching them as well.”
San Francisco’s gay bar scene has a decades-long history of catering to cis, white men, and excluding people of color, gender non-conforming people and women (or those who fall into all three categories). In the 1970s, the Castro was known as the land of mustaches, pale skin and biceps, and, while that image has shifted, discrimination continues. Part of the challenge of addressing it is denial, Militia says. In her experience, white bar owners and party-goers often shut down conversations about racism before they begin because they go into defensive mode, afraid of being called a racist. She hopes Saturday’s panel can encourage more openness.
“Everybody has levels of racism within them, everybody has levels of xenophobia within them. It is up to you to continue to do the work,” she says. “I think it would help if people realize that being anti-racist isn’t something you achieve and then you’re done. … Especially when we’re just starting the conversation.”
