Next up in our Queer+ Voices series, we'll be featuring drummer, music instructor, and audio engineer Jules Stewart, who proudly identifies as an androgynous-presenting lesbian womxn.

​Tell us a little bit about your coming out experience(s). How has life changed for you since being “out”?
JS: I grew up without knowing anything about homosexuality, but have dressed and presented as androgynous since I was very young. Because of my deeply religious upbringing, I had a massive amount of internalized homophobia (hatred toward myself) as I started to realize I was gay. As hard as I prayed and asked God to make me straight, it didn't work, so I started doing the work to understand myself as a whole person deserving of love (which I'm still working on).

When I came out to my parents, there was mourning of Biblical proportions, but my sister has been supportive and loving beyond my wildest dreams. I've also been incredibly lucky to have a wonderful friend family around me...best friends that have always loved me and wanted joy, true self-expression and a full life for me. The process of coming out and accepting myself has helped me to see the humanity, complexity, and beauty in all people just a little better. For me, it's been true that the more I release my own shame and guilt, the more fully I can love other people.

​LBP: How do other aspects of your identity intersect (or perhaps clash) with your sexuality?
JS: ​The experience of being an androgynous-presenting female drummer has been an interesting one! Female drummers can be fetishized or hired as anomalies because femininity and drumming have not been represented together very extensively in the media. I think my gender presentation has let me skip quite a bit of that, but it also puts me in a bit of a unique spot: not a male drummer for bands that would prefer that, not a hyper feminine drummer for bands that would prefer that...just a drummer trying to make every song as beautiful as it can be. It gives me the lovely knowledge that when I get hired, it's because of my playing and myself rather than my gender. I'd call that a win.

LBP: Pride is a celebration of liberation but also an acknowledgement of struggle, resistance, and revolution. Where do you see yourself in that celebration? Where do you see yourself in that struggle?
JS: I am incredibly grateful for the Black trans womxn who began and carried the fight for rights for the LGBTQ+ community. I also am learning more and more that the rights I enjoy (voting as a womxn, being able to get married as a lesbian, and many more) were direct consequences of the fight for equality waged by and for Black people. I believe that none of us are free until all of us are free, and it's hard to claim victory for the LGBTQ+ community when so many of our members are oppressed and in literal danger of death, including and certainly not limited to Black queer people, indigenous people, undocumented people, and trans people. Wherever we all find our place in the fight for equality, now is the time to find it.

LBP: As an artist, how does your “queerness" or sexual identity show up in your creative work?
JS: I believe the process of loving and accepting myself as a queer person has made me more able to see beauty and truth in more of the world. It has also helped me trust my own creativity as valid and valuable. As I've become more accepting of my whole self, I've grown to love more styles of music and connect with a more diverse spectrum of art and expression. I believe being queer has shaped my entire outlook on the world and on the music I play. ​

LBP: What queer-centered artists, shows, films, podcasts, authors, etc. are you into right now?
​JS: Ooooh boy. Podcasts: Gay Church with Valerie Franco (I can't recommend this highly enough if you want to hear more about the interactions between being gay and being religious) and Transform - Beyond the Transition.

In terms of shows and movies: Disclosure and Feel Good are my two most recent favorites.

Books: Untamed by Glennon Doyle, Unapologetic by Charlene A. Carruthers, Wolfpack by Abby Wambach, and It's About Damn Time by Arlan Hamilton.

Other: Everything Cameron Esposito does.

LBP: What are some of your favorite LGBTQ+ organizations or businesses you'd recommend our readers look into, buy from, donate to, volunteer for, etc.?
​JS: Organizations: The Trevor Project, House of Resilience.

Businesses: SCEND fitness (my wife owns this!), DapperBoi (androgynous clothing that is awesome).

To find out more about Jules Stewart, visit https://julesstewartdrums.com/. Stay tuned throughout the month of July for more Queer+ Voices interviews!

​

Next up in our Queer+ Voices series, we'll be featuring photographer, filmmaker, and author Sharisse Coulter, who proudly identifies as a woman. This entry in our series is a great time to point out that while we decided to use the word “queer" in the title of our series for its broad reach within the community, we recognize and acknowledge that this term doesn't necessarily speak to all of our interview subjects' identities and experiences. Moving forward, we'll be calling this series Queer+ Voices as a reminder of that! Now, onto the interview!

Tell us a little bit about your coming out experience(s). How has life changed for you since being “out”?
​SC: For most of my life I felt comfortable as a straight woman. I had only ever been attracted to men. At 38, I was attracted to a woman for the first time in my life. I had just ended my marriage and felt comfortable experimenting. It was nice, but I didn't have any big revelations about my sexuality. I let it go, considered myself straight, and continued dating men.

​About eight months ago I started dating a woman. Shortly thereafter I made the decision to tell my friends, family, and son. I was most concerned with my son's reaction. In part because she was the first person I'd introduced him to since his dad and I split up and also because he'd never known me to date a woman. When I asked him if he thought it was weird that I'd been married to a man and was now dating a woman he shrugged and said, “Not really. I know lots of lesbians." And then resumed the conversation about who would win in a matchup between a T-rex and a superhero. In that moment, and in the loving and supportive responses I got from friends and family, I recognized my privilege in being able to experiment, date and tell anyone I wanted without fear or rejection. It's a sign of the social progress made as well as being at a stage of my own life where I'm not looking for anyone's approval. For the most part I haven't been pressed to label myself, which is good because I still don't know what to say. But when their curiosity proves too much I usually just say, “I'm straight, but my girlfriend is a lesbian."

​LBP: How do other aspects of your identity intersect (or perhaps clash) with your sexuality?
SC: As an artist whose mission is to empower women through creativity, I find that my friend and professional circles are already very accepting and seamlessly integrated. I was raised in a conservative Christian environment in which acceptance at a younger age wouldn't have been a forgone conclusion, but even then, most of the disparaging comments I heard about being gay referred to men.

The main clash I've experienced is internalized prejudice that comes up when I challenge my own stories about myself. Straight no longer accurately describes me, but I don't feel any different than I did before. I'm simply in love with a woman. Sometimes, like when my girlfriend and I kissed on a sidewalk and a dude driving by hung out his window and yelled, “Yeah! Hey ladies!" I recognize that people behave differently with us than they do when I've been with men. Overall it feels like there is an “othering" that occurs in changing the way people see me, but mostly people are just uncomfortable with defining new parameters and language, not with the fact that I'm dating a woman.

Next up in our Queer Voices series, we'll be featuring singer-songwriter and music therapist Becca Jay, who proudly identifies as a lesbian. 

Tell us a little bit about your coming out experience(s). How has life changed for you since being “out”?
BJ: I came out when I was 21-years-old. It went as well as you might expect for someone with a family who had been largely involved in the church. We didn’t talk much for the following few years, aside from phone calls that mainly ended in yelling/shaming/tears. However, since coming out my personal life has blossomed in a way that I never imagined could be possible for me. I have never felt especially like “myself” until these last couple of years, and that is 100% a result of me being out. Honestly, I just feel like I can fucking breathe.

​LBP: How do other aspects of your identity intersect (or perhaps clash) with your sexuality?
BJ: I have a collection of memorable stories about being a young, queer woman working in music therapy with populations who profoundly disagree with my existence but required my services for growth or closure. It’s a strange intersection and consistently leaves me stranded in spaces that, even still, I never quite feel I’m allowed to take up. ​

LBP: Pride is a celebration of liberation but also an acknowledgement of struggle, resistance, and revolution. Where do you see yourself in that celebration? Where do you see yourself in that struggle?
BJ: Pride has been liberating in the sense that it has given me permission to celebrate vital parts of myself that had previously felt shameful or wrong, but has also illustrated to me that even among my marginalized identities, I am in the majority, and we have a lot of work to do.

LBP: As an artist, how does your “queerness" show up in your creative work?
BJ: Most of my processing of being queer has created songs that I’ve kept to myself. I think I’ve always felt isolated in my experience, which of course isn’t entirely true, but has stopped me from feeling like I should share that part of my journey. Maybe someday I’ll feel differently, but as of now, the queer part of my identity is mainly expressed in love songs with female pronouns. Even so, I think this mainly confuses listeners, as they often seem more likely to think that I misspoke than think I could be in love with a woman.​

LBP: What queer-centered artists, shows, films, podcasts, authors, etc. are you into right now?
BJ: This is an area I lack in. I wish I had some good references - this is something I’m working on.

LBP: What are some of your favorite LGBTQ+ organizations or businesses you'd recommend our readers look into, buy from, donate to, volunteer for, etc.?
BJ: Uhhhhh Lady Brain. But for real.

To find out more about Becca Jay, visit https://www.beccajaymusic.com/. Stay tuned throughout the month of July for more Queer Voices interviews!

Welcome to Boss Ladies, the review column written by members for members! Today we'll hear Tori Roze's take on Jessie Lark's latest EP, entitled After Hours.

Mark my words: musical artist Jessie Lark, a.k.a. Jessica Lerner, is going to be a household name. A San Diego-based musician, Lark penetrates the music scene with her honest approach to creating sound at home. As an original songstress who knows the capacity of her heart AND her own personal playing/singing/writing ability, the fact that she practically does everything herself is testament to the beautifully realized and highly-marketable vision that is her debut EP, After Hours.

The EP boasts five “hearty” songs (pun intended), guiding the listener through varying emotions while maintaining an unshakable constant: Lark's dazzling voice. Her placement, nuance, and tonality are untouchable; her lyrics are paramount to the driving force of each song – she’s got a story (or five) to tell. It is a soothing pleasure to listen to Lark envelop your sonic sensors as she easily floats over the entirety of her voice.

Not only does Lark sing like a bird, but she caresses her piano like a lover whose touch will never tire. The musicianship on After Hours comes across as the much-needed complement to Lark’s pristine vocal expression - emotive and thoughtful. The album swirls with piano + synth + lead + backup vocals all provided by Lark, while intermittent “visitors” drop by on meticulously placed guitar (Lark's husband Kevin Viner and Austin Moorhead), saxophone (Dante Lewis), and synthesizer (Viner). The mix (Viner) is delicious, warm, and meaningful. The production (Viner) is diamond clear – this is some of the most cinematic and licensable music, and it’s all on one album: it’s undeniably good.

The first song off the EP, titled “Come On,” begins with gorgeously low piano notes resounding in the abyss. There is a grandness to the production: as if the room in which it was recorded had epically tall ceilings lending to a cathedral of open acoustics. Despite the openness of the sound, this song feels intimate and seductive. The vocals are yearningly confident. Lark paints us a picture of her dream lover, whom she wishes to possess. She enticingly repeats the chorus, “come on, come on, come on, don’t leave me this way...I know that you think about me...I promise I won’t behave.”  The urgency of her message grows as the song continues - violins tug at imaginary heart strings as Lark’s volume and strength explode; she, acting as puppet master to the listener’s feelings. This song could easily be inserted into any film whose subject is forbidden love or secretive relations (like the unimaginably successful Twilight series). Lark leaves you hanging on until the very last note, as she hits a final breathy “t,” proclaiming “this is your green light.” Her delivery is so direct that you wish you were the fantasy she needed. This is definitely the most passionate song on the album; a smart choice by Lark as the first track one experiences.

​Lark completely switches gears on the second tune, “Love Don’t Change.” Specifically, we’ve moved on to a modern country-pop jam and entered what seems like the world of a romantic-comedy: where lessons in love are a-plenty.

The scene is set with a slow-dancing guitar and piano softly embracing one another. Lark’s voice joins in solid two-part harmony, perfectly-pairing the music and the vocals like great wine and cheese. If Notting Hill hadn’t already existed, this song would belong on its soundtrack. The lyrics express loving reverence for an ex-partner who left a positive and permanent mark on Lark. It’s a story most of us can relate to; it’s also the stuff of great songwriting.

“Go Slow” immediately picks up the rhythmic pace. Playful bouncy guitar (Moorhead) and piano set the tempo – the vibe is road trip music. Flawless vocals and lyrics touch on the beginning phases of liking someone and not knowing where it’s headed. This is an easy-listening song, literally embodying the aural desire to “go slow.” The piano and guitar play in harmonious country-like unison, strengthening the rhythmic core that propels the song forward. The backup vocals add a touch of femininity as they gently appear in support of the chorus. You know a piece of music is well-balanced when all of the instruments as well as the vocals are highlighted; a prime example of masterful production.

“Fly Away” starts out like a proper singer-songwriter tune – piano and vocals. Self-reflective in nature, Lark speaks about letting someone go “over the rainbow,” describing her feelings of that loss as she feels “colder now.”  There is an impenetrable dissonance underlying the tone of the song; it is almost as if Lark is acknowledging where there is light, there is also darkness – the good with the bad, new beginnings with bitter-sweet endings, and life with death. The saxophone (Lewis) tastefully sails over the melody, as if it symbolizes the person whom Lark was singing to. Lark ends the song like a prayer, quiet and gracefully calling out to God for the prompt reunion with her friend. This is an affectionately thoughtful love-note to the recently departed.

The final song, “Under These Sheets,” tells you everything you need to know from the title. Much like “Your Body is a Wonderland” by John Mayer, this song has a future being played on repeat at weddings. The lyrics are exactly what you would assume they would be – an exploration of the entirety of someone you love while being held in the safety of their personal warmth. A cozy feeling of security overtakes you as its catchy chorus reverberates in your head, “I’m never climbing out from under these sheets.” Romance oozes from the very fabric of this song. Like a lullaby hypnotizing you into a waltz, this song begs to be put on repeat.

Five songs aren’t nearly enough to satisfy the amount of Lark’s music one gets hungry for after hearing it for the first time. The production is excellent and the result of a thoroughly stunning dream-team (props to Viner for mixing/production and Geoff Pesche for mastering), but the true winner here is the songwriting. Great albums come from great music, period. The versatility and self-sufficiency with which Lark composes original music shows that she has a long and lucrative career awaiting her in the music business, whether it be performing the music herself or writing it for someone else. She’s so good, she can do it all. Lark is testament that those mind-blowing records can all be written and recorded at home.

Have a listen to the brilliant EP After Hours on Spotify as soon as you can. You can also catch Lark performing live on Instagram @jessielarkmusic - every Wednesday at 6pm PST and Sunday at 12pm PST.

For more info: www.jessielark.com

​Tell us a little bit about your coming out experience(s). How has life changed for you since being “out”?
LW: I came out several times to several people about a decade ago. It was gruesome and lonely and liberating all at the same time, and still is to an extent. At the time, I was married to a man I'd been with since I was 18. I'd been with womxn before, but only in circumstances that left me feeling ashamed because of my Christian upbringing (and my blood alcohol content, let's be real). I never considered for a second that I was gay until l found myself accidentally, undeniably in love with a friend who wasn't even sure she wanted to be with me. (Who could blame her, I was a hot mess). I had to decide if that realization alone, without the promise of a romantic relationship with that person, was worth the risk of blowing up my comfortable life and most important relationships, namely with my ex-husband and now-deceased mother. I still struggle a bit with unreconciled guilt, pain, and anger, but the reality is: there is no healthy, safe, or happy alternative to living authentically. Now, I wake up every day with my soul mate and feel so unbelievably grateful that we both made our way to each other. 

​LBP: How do other aspects of your identity intersect (or perhaps clash) with your sexuality?
LW: I personally (not speaking for others) found it impossible to be queer and Christian after I came out. When I think about how so many Christians utilize hate, fear, and ignorance to effectively keep folks from loving themselves and each other, it makes me want to scream into a pillow. When I think about how religion prevented me from having a relationship with my mother and continues to prevent me from having a relationship with my wife's family, it makes me want to not live in this world. I could never endorse a religion that would endorse that kind of pain. I look at the hate and fear in the eyes of folks protesting at Pride parades, screaming outside abortion clinics, throwing fits in Trader Joe's, pointing guns at Black people, and I can't help but wonder if they picked up that poison in a sermon somewhere as a kid. And I know, not all Christians are monolithically traumatizing children in the name of god. But that knowledge doesn't really save the traumatized kids. I love and respect many folks from many faiths, but Christianity is no longer my jam. It hurt to initially feel like I wasn't entitled to religion because all of these toxic people essentially peed around the concept of it for me. But over time, I've learned to develop a new framework and vocabulary around my spiritual practice: creativity is god, community is church, love is heaven. 

Still, it's pretty much impossible to escape Christian/hetero “norms." My wife and I are seeing firsthand how they permeate our healthcare system. As queer womxn, there's a double whammy there with reproductive and fertility rights. We're jumping through more hoops and spending more money all because folks in the government and healthcare industry think they should determine what a person can do with their body and what constitutes a family. It's extremely frustrating.

LBP: Pride is a celebration of liberation but also an acknowledgement of struggle, resistance, and revolution. Where do you see yourself in that celebration? Where do you see yourself in that struggle?
LW: Inside my house and my marriage, it's a Pride party every day! I know that our joyful existence is in and of itself an act of resistance, and I celebrate everyone and anything that made that kind of love attainable.

Outside my house, I will say that experiencing sexism and homophobia, particularly under the guise of Christianity, has helped me understand the roots of oppression and better empathize with folks who are harmed or made vulnerable by oppressive systems.  

​As for where I fit into that struggle, I watch local queer activists, particularly queer womxn of color, who are leading the charge not just for gay rights but for human rights, and I try to apply what I learn from them however and wherever I can. Their off-the-charts organizing skills and commitment to solidarity are likely the direct result of navigating complicated identity intersections, figuring out how to quickly create safe spaces (not only out of a desire for acceptance, but out of a need to survive), and having a deep love for and a sense of responsibility to their communities. I'm not trying to romanticize their struggle or fight because it's depleting and dangerous work, but if you're looking for lessons in leadership, all you have to do is pay close attention. When I'm tempted to retreat into my privilege, I think of them, and it motivates me to keep using whatever tools, talent, and privilege I have to do more and do better. 

LBP: As an artist, how does your “queerness" show up in your creative work?
LW: I've been writing about being queer since I before I realized I was queer! Songs about feeling trapped, coming out, getting divorced, hating myself, being in love, getting my heart broken, religious hypocrites, getting married, feeling rejected, you name it. Add to that layers of grief from my mother's untimely death, and all I'm saying is you should probably take a box of tissue with you to my Spotify channel or Youtube page.

LBP: What queer-centered artists, shows, films, podcasts, authors, etc. are you into right now?
LW: I love how the queer and trans characters in The Chi have robust storylines- they're not just there to gawk at, and the audience has to get on board or get left behind. I also am so enamored by David's character in Schitt's Creek. The other characters poke fun at his many quirks, but never throw cheap shots at his sexuality. We wouldn't have authentic storytelling like this without queer folks like Lena Waithe and Daniel Levy at the helm. Representation matters!

As for queer musicians, I love The Harmaleighs, Julianna Zachariou, Miki Vale, Tori Roze, The Banduvloons, Rhythm Turner, Jules Stewart, Veronica May, Becca Jay, and the list goes on and on. For visuals, check out Sydney Prather, Alyssa Douglas of City6 Studios), Sharisse Coulter, and Eboni Harvey aka EB OF COURSE.
​
LBP: What are some of your favorite LGBTQ+ organizations or businesses you'd recommend our readers look into, buy from, donate to, volunteer for, etc.?
LW: Grassroots mutual aid is where it's at. No bureaucracy, no BS, no brownie points; just an immediate redistribution of resources from folks who have a little extra to folks who don't have enough. Two examples of this with queer community organizers leading the charge are We All We Got SD and Black Womxn Deserve.

LBP: Is there anything else you'd like to mention in closing?
LW: I would encourage anyone living in the US who can say with a straight face that the personal is not political for them, to think about how insulated they are in their privilege. I believe this pandemic has ushered in an opportunity for us to decide what kind of people we want to be and what kind of communities we want to live in. We have to start taking care of each other, we have to stay engaged, and we have to stop waiting for someone else to do the work.

To find out more about Lindsay White, visit https://www.lindsaywhitemusic.com. Stay tuned throughout the month of July for more Queer Voices interviews!

Next up in our Queer Voices series is songwriter, vocalist, and bandleader Lauren Leigh, who proudly identifies as a pansexual womxn. We're so proud of Lauren, who came out one week ago! Read on to discover how it all went down!

Tell us a little bit about your coming out experience(s). How has life changed for you since being “out”?
LL: I came out one week ago, on June 27, 2020! I had been editing and re-editing a post on Facebook I was going to make with the purpose of coming out. At this point, most of my close friends already knew, but it wasn't something I publicly talked about online or ever with family. After coming out, I received ONLY positive remarks and feedback, tons of private messages thanking me or congratulating me for coming out, but didn't hear from my family. I had heard from the most conservative Christian friend, but not my mother. So I called her. I was shaking and sweating-the gross, smelly kind. My mother said, “Which letter are you?" and I responded, “Well I guess 'Q' for queer because I am pansexual." She said, “OH! Like Janelle Monae!?" and I immediately started sobbing. My mom shouted to my dad that I was pansexual, and he shouted “Okay, cool." It was great.

​Life has changed only in the way that I feel so, incredibly ME. I feel a thousand percent more authentic, and I feel a “part of" instead of “in support of." They are distinctly different feelings. Literally any time anyone draws attention to the fact that I came out, I am so happy and proud. I know I am so lucky to have a coming out story like mine. The most exciting thing for me to think about is the future. I could have a girlfriend someday! Just typing that out makes me smile. I have curbed so many life experiences for myself because I wasn't out. I don't have that wall anymore.

​LBP: How do other aspects of your identity intersect (or perhaps clash) with your sexuality?
LL: I identify as a womxn, she/her pronouns, I was raised by middle-class Catholics, and I am a musician. My sexuality clashed with all of it. Or at least it felt like it did, which is why I waited until I was 36 years old to come out. I had very few queer influences as a child. Only my aunt, a lesbian, whose sexuality was dismissed and erased by my dad's side of the family and never talked about. Her wife was always addressed as her “friend." 

My Catholic family let it be clear when they found out I had been hooking up with a girlfriend in high school that I was going to hell, and that if I was going to do it, to keep it a secret, but that it would be easier for me in life to just “stop." 

I can still remember Ellen DeGeneres coming out, and immediately losing all her jobs and that being extremely terrifying for me as a tiny performer, budding singer who wanted the world to like her. “Just don't talk about it." So I never did. There are whole songs I've written from the heteronormative perspective that were actually about womxn. Hiding who I really was, however transparent it might have actually been, was the default. Fit in. Make people like you. It's a common theme throughout my life. It wasn't until I started putting myself first and focusing on making ME like me that positive changes in my community started happening and there seemed no other way to be, but just me. 

LBP: Pride is a celebration of liberation but also an acknowledgement of struggle, resistance, and revolution. Where do you see yourself in that celebration? Where do you see yourself in that struggle?
​LL: It is not lost on me how easy my coming out has been. There's a reason for that. Millions of people have marched, fought, and so many have died in the path to granting me that freedom. Matthew Shepherd's death caused me to have nightmares for a week. It is a vivid reminder of what the LGBTQ+ community has gone through so that people like me can have easy coming out stories. Witnessing what I have at Black Lives Matter protests through the pans filter really ignites a fire in me to ACT. I have freedoms today as a white person-- pans or not-- that Black people simply do not have. Black trans womxn started the fight for queer freedoms at Stonewall. We must fight for them now because all Black people matter. It's a Revolution and I feel the responsibility to fight because I've seen that it WORKS.

LBP: As an artist, how does your “queerness" show up in your creative work?
LL: My “queerness" has only recently shown up in my creative work. Last year I wrote a song specifically about a girl--which was a big deal for me. Hundreds of heteronormative songs have been written about almost the same thing. This was one of those songs that just pours out of you in literal minutes. I didn't fight it. It came out. It's titled, “Sweet Michele" and it's an imaginary story about losing my chance with the potential love of my life because I didn't pay her enough attention. I am really proud of it and it's on my EP, "FLARE" I released this year on my birthday. My roommate and fellow powerhouse singer Chloe Lou heard it and said it hit her differently because her mother's name was Michelle, and she was an AIDS advocate that died of AIDS when she was 3 years old. The lyrics tell her a different story. Sharing that reaction with me makes the song so much more important to me. I am so looking forward to being more deliberate with queer-centered art and lyrics.

LBP: What queer-centered artists, shows, films, podcasts, authors, etc. are you into right now?
LL: As far as music goes- Janelle Monae and Emily King are at the top of my jam list for queer-centered music. I am also really into the show Shrill right now. It has a super body-positive message but also represents the queer community realistically and doesn't just center on the fact that they are queer. Authenticity. Of course all my LGBTQ+ artist obsessions locally killing it. Tori Roze's costumed karaoke will never not be my weekly pleasure for as long as this pandemic (or the segment) lives.

LBP: What are some of your favorite LGBTQ+ organizations or businesses you'd recommend our readers look into, buy from, donate to, volunteer for, etc.?
LL: All lives cannot matter until Black trans lives matter. Donate to The Marsha P. Johnson Institute, named in honor of the legendary drag queen and Black gay activist. They work to protect and defend the rights of Black transgender people. 

LBP: Is there anything else you'd like to mention in closing?
I just wanted to say that being able to participate in something that is celebrating who I am as a pansexual human being is very, very new to me. Just the thought of doing this interview made me cry with pride. I have been crying a whole lot the last week in gratitude. To be accepted in the larger community has been great-- but for the queer community to embrace me and welcome me home has meant the absolute world and I can't believe I waited this long to come out.

Happy first OUT Pride to Lauren Leigh! Thanks to all our readers for helping us lift her up! To find out more, please visit https://www.laurenleighmusic.com/. Don't forget to check back throughout the month for additional interviews in our Queer Voices series!

Hello and happy Pride! Welcome to our Queer Voices series, a month-long virtual community gathering where we will be interviewing several of our LGBTQ+ members about what it's like to move through the world as a queer person. It's always important to lift up folks in the queer community, especially in a year like 2020 when traditional celebrations and gatherings in public spaces have been postponed due to the pandemic. You'll notice throughout the series that questions for interviewees are identical, but each member's responses, experiences, and perspectives are quite different. It's a big ol' patchwork blanket of a community, sewn together with folks from all walks of life, and that's what makes it so dang beautiful, not to mention, sometimes problematic - we'll take a look at that in this series as well.

First up, let's hear from writer, speaker, life coach, advocate, and activist KishaLynn Elliott, who proudly identifies as a Black lesbian. ​​

LBP: What queer-centered artists, shows, films, podcasts, authors, etc. are you into right now?
KE: I am not big on TV but I do enjoy POSE, Queer Eye, and reruns of Queer as Folk (US). I’ve seen every episode of L-Word, but only because my wife is a super fan (I tolerate it. LOL!) As a new baby lesbian I educated myself my watching every lesbian film I could rent though Netflix. My favorites are If These Walls Could Talk 2 and The Color Purple (yes, I am counting that as a lesbian movie!). I am obsessed with the musical, RENT. Queen Latifah is phenomenal in Bessie.

Musically, I am a huge fan of all things Miki Vale (@mikivalethemc on Instagram). “Dirty Computer” by Janelle Monáe IS life. I also enjoy Young M.A. as a rapper.

In the book realm, my #1 inspiration as an author is ZAMI: A New Spelling of my Name by Audre Lourde. I also love Coffee Will Make You Black and Ain’t Gonna Be The Same Fool Twice by April Sinclair. Oh and of course my book, CHILDish. #haveyoureadthis

LBP: What are some of your favorite LGBTQ+ organizations or businesses you'd recommend our readers look into, buy from, donate to, volunteer for, etc?
KE: The #1 organization that I owe my finding home to as a black lesbian is BLU-Black Lesbians United. BLU is a long running community and retreat where Black lesbians from around the world convene to live, laugh, learn and love together. I went to my first BLU retreat in October 2019 after hearing about it and ignoring the invite for almost a decade before. I tell you, I never left that retreat. I’m still at BLU, body, mind and soul. Now a lot of the activities have moved online. Check out BLU at http://blacklesbiansunited.org.

Thanks to all our readers for helping us celebrate KishaLynn this Pride season. To find out more, please visit http://childishthebook.com/. Don't forget to check back throughout the month for additional interviews in our Queer Voices series!

Thanks to all who participated in June's Creative Process collaborative journal series - if you missed any of the entries, please click on the pictures below to read the work of members who contributed their writing, poems, music, etc. Don't forget to join us in July for Queer Voices, an interview series featuring some of Lady Brain Collective's LGBTQ+ members.

Next up in our “Creative Process" series, we'll be featuring an original song called “Elephant" from Lady Brain Collective member Lisa Brackmann. 

“Elephant" by Lisa Brackmann

​When you’re on the road
And you hit the streets like an elephant
You gotta tote that load
So you lift up your trunk for the hell of it

I want to know
Wandering stranger
Where do you go
Where’s there’s no danger?

Well my luck turned cold
and it hit with the force of a hurricane
So let’s raise a glass
And we’ll drink a toast to what might have been

If I never was
Am I a has been?
Do I double down
Or throw my hand in?

My my
We’re on different roads that go to the same destination
Follow me down
Follow me down
Follow me down

My my
My my

Well it comes and goes
And you tell me just make the best of it
But when it overflows
Well you're not gonna get out ahead of it
 
Tell me a lie
Wandering stranger
Where do we go
When it breaks down?
Breaks down?
Breaks down?
Breaks down?