Latest news with #queer
The Guardian
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
‘It's queer, Black joy': the TikTok creator quizzing pop stars and politicians on LGBTQ+ culture
Anania Williams is genreless. Some may know them from their comedic TikTok videos, which regularly amass hundreds of thousands of views. Others may recognize them as host of Gaydar, a viral entertainment-education show about queer culture, history and current events; an interview Williams did with the New York City mayoral candidate Zohran Mamdani did go viral, after all. There's also Williams's drag performances, including those where they opened for icons such as Chappell Roan and Bob the Drag Queen. Or their bevy of musical theater roles – Lola in Kinky Boots, Dominique in Lucky Stiffs, to name a few. For years, Williams has been launching their own creative universe. As a 25-year-old genderqueer, Black artist, Williams, who uses they/she pronouns, has used their ever-growing social media presence (more than 2.8 million followers across their social media platforms) to fashion the career of their dreams outside anyone's binaries. For their next project, Williams is set to perform in Saturday Church, a new musical at New York Theatre Workshop which opens 27 August. The play dives into the world of a sanctuary for LGBTQ+ youth. 'It's a feelgood musical,' said Williams of the production. 'It's just queer, Black joy, and there's a beautiful message about it.' Williams will play a trans woman, another bonus in their ever-growing theatrical career. 'The further I get in my transition, it's been nice to feel affirmed,' they said. 'It's just been awesome to be in those spaces and to make a way for myself.' With talent and charisma, Williams's rise is practically ordained; as they look forward to balancing their various projects, now comes the task of navigating their expansive future and chronic frustrations of being online. For Williams, growing up in Davenport, Iowa – an industrial, midwestern town of about 100,000 people, was an exercise in strength. At school, Williams was bullied for 'having a girl name', they said. Their home life was equally tumultuous, Williams recalled, rife with abuse and neglect. But life in the midwest sowed the seeds for their future artistic passions. As a child, they sang in the church choir, later joining show choir, following in the footsteps of an older sister. For college, Williams attended Emerson College's in the musical theatre program in Boston. University was one of the first times that Williams got to reflect on who they were, what they wanted. But musical theater came with its own binaries and limitations, especially as Williams is both genderqueer, meaning outside the typical binaries of gender, and Black. 'It felt like: 'Lord forbid you be somewhere else on the gender binary,' and then, 'Lord forbid you're also Black at the same time',' Williams said. Even when Williams attempted to create their own lane, they said they faced resistance from their professors. 'There was a teacher that was like: 'You keep bringing in girl songs. Why is that?' And I tried to explain it to them, and it didn't go well,' Williams said. When the Covid-19 pandemic hit, Williams returned to their home town to wait out the return to normalcy like most people. The isolation allowed for reflection and served as a moment that allowed them to fully realize their gender identity. 'I had to admit a couple things to myself, like, 'Yeah, I'm queer. Yeah, I'm probably genderqueer.' And from there, it kind of spiraled,' they said of that time period, jokingly adding: 'I call it the pronoun pipeline.' Around the same time, Williams started to create content on TikTok, quickly becoming known for short, comedic rants captured during their late-night walks. Most of their content was spur-of-the-moment musings on anything from Christianity and relationships to a new iPhone. In 2022, they started to speak more openly about being genderqueer, posting videos of their drag and makeup routine. Reflecting back on that time period brings a mix of feelings, Williams said. On one hand, it has been extremely gratifying to grow alongside longtime viewers. 'The audience that's been with me the longest has signed on to watch me evolve,' they said. '[They] watched me do makeup for the first time or try to glue down a wig. Those people are why I feel like I can keep going.' On the other hand, Williams sometimes wishes 'the first version people knew me of was who I am today'. The nature of their content has continued to grow. In 2024, Williams became the host of Gaydar, created by Amelia Montooth at the company Mutuals Media. The show quizzes an array of guests on queer culture in an attempt to find out if they are 'straight, gay or homophobic'. Questions include anything from what a 'lipstick lesbian' is to assessing a guest's knowledge of a gay icon. Willliams herself is also learning alongside contestants, often in real time. 'I didn't know who Sue Bird was and the lesbians whacked me up and down the streets, oh my God,' they quipped. The show's a comedic premise with the goal of inviting viewers to become educated, said Williams. 'We are inundating queer history and queer culture into digestible questions and clips that lets people relax into the learning,' said Williams of the show. 'They can take something in a funny way that's more engaging than saying: 'Here are the facts. Here's a screenshot of this article I read, and you should care about it.' Early versions of the show featured mostly strangers Williams found on the street. The segment has since hosted a number of celebrities and public figures: singers Lucy Dacus, Reneé Rapp and Vivian Jenna Wilson, the daughter of billionaire Elon Musk. The New York City mayoral candidate Mamdani, an avid progressive, attracted social media buzz as one of the first politicians to grace the show. Mamdani shocked Williams when he was successfully able to name a lesbian bar in the city: the Manhattan-staple Cubbyhole. 'He was just such a team player about it,' said Williams of the interview experience. 'We let our audience, which is younger, know who he is and he got to speak for himself.' Williams added: 'It's cool to be a professional zeitgeist in that way, to know that throughout it all, we're making a difference.' Williams's ascent hasn't come without difficulties. They have faced cruel harassment as they have been more public about their transition. 'What they really like to do, especially with dolls, is pick apart fashion and makeup and hair,' said Williams, referring to online trolls. Williams added: 'I want to believe that people are becoming more comfortable with transness, but I think they're coming around to a very specific, stereotypical, western, white, skinny type of trans person. When someone doesn't fit that standard, they get berated.' But Williams has found ways to consistently ground in the real world, alongside the growing pains. There's their found family, a best friend from sixth grade. High school friends and their boyfriend as well as online friends they met through TikTok. And, of course, baking and video games are hobbies, living outside the pressure to monetize or make content of their life. A cake for a friend's birthday was already in the works for later that evening. 'It's either red velvet or strawberry,' Williams said, with a large laugh. 'I remember the color, not the flavor.'
Associated Press
6 days ago
- Entertainment
- Associated Press
Debut Author X.K. Westwood Redefines Belonging in Powerful New Fantasy, The Sibyl's Ember
STERLING HEIGHTS, MI, UNITED STATES, July 23, 2025 / / -- What if belonging isn't granted but chosen—deliberately, courageously, and often quietly? That's the central question in The Sibyl's Ember, the debut fantasy novel by X.K. Westwood, releasing soon. Set in the tradition-bound village of Oswynn, the novel follows Soltic Arden, a young man expected to serve in silence. But one act of defiance propels him into a forbidden world—where belief is dangerous, freedom is costly, and truth has a heartbeat. At its core, The Sibyl's Ember isn't just fantasy. It's an emotional journey through secrecy, longing, and the relentless need to be seen. Layered with ancient rituals, lost gods, and whispered names, the story pulses with deeply human themes of identity, faith, and self-worth. 'I wrote this from a place of remembering,' Westwood shares. 'Of wanting more than what you were told you deserved—and holding onto tenderness even when it wasn't safe to.' Westwood's personal journey—from rural Michigan to the bright lights of New York and back—shapes this novel's authentic exploration of chosen family, spiritual resilience, and emotional survival. This is a story for the quiet rebels—for those who've never been handed a seat at the table but pulled up a chair anyway. For those who speak softly and carry fire. About the Author X.K. Westwood (he/him) is a queer author and worldbuilder who crafts stories for those living in the margins—where memory, myth, faith, and doubt intersect. His writing celebrates tenderness, resistance, and radical imagination. When not writing, he can be found by the sea, dreaming of better worlds for those who never quite fit into the ones they were given. email us here X.K. Westwood X.K. Westwood Visit us on social media: LinkedIn Instagram Facebook Legal Disclaimer: EIN Presswire provides this news content 'as is' without warranty of any kind. We do not accept any responsibility or liability for the accuracy, content, images, videos, licenses, completeness, legality, or reliability of the information contained in this article. If you have any complaints or copyright issues related to this article, kindly contact the author above.
Irish Times
7 days ago
- Politics
- Irish Times
Berlin LGBTQ refuge carries ‘psychological burden' as homophobic attacks rise
With its large windows, exposed brick walls and long wooden tables, Berlin's Cafe Hoven is a welcoming place with a familiar aesthetic. In the last 18 months, though, the queer cafe-bar has been attacked, staff threatened, fire extinguishers sprayed in the door, homophobic insults smeared on the windows and Nazi slogans sprayed on the walls. 'People should be safe here,' said owner Danjel Zarte. 'So it's a huge psychological burden that I have to worry that something will happen to someone.' Between Hoven and two other queer bars he owns, Zarte has filed 45 police complaints in the last 18 months, all linked to homophobic violence. After 15 years in Berlin, viewing his adoptive home a gay-friendly refuge, he senses something dramatic is happening. READ MORE Official statistics agree with him, suggesting a quadrupling in the last decade of violence based on sexual orientation/ identity/ diversity. Across Berlin, attacks on queer people and property are now a daily occurrence, says Berlin's Maneo project against homophobic violence. It logs two to three cases daily, but estimates that 80 per cent of victims never come forward. Some see the shift as part of rising social anxiety, part of a pushback against all minorities – Jews, Muslims, foreign nationals – that is reflected in the rise of the far right Alternative for Germany (AfD). Danjel Zarte, who owns the queer Cafe Hoven, has been the target of regular attacks in the last 18 months One of its leaders, Alice Weidel , lives with a woman, yet party politicians regularly frame non-heterosexual people as perverts, paedophiles and a danger to children. Some see Germany's ruling Christian Democratic Union (CDU), just three points ahead of the AfD in polls, engaging in dog whistle politics at the expense of LGBT campaigners. CDU Bundestag president Julia Klöckner ended the practice of flying the rainbow flag during Pride season over the Reichstag federal parliament building. 'The black-red-gold flag already flying over our parliament can't be beaten,' said Ms Klöckner. 'It stands for freedom and individuality, including sexual identity.' Citing the neutrality obligation of the state, Klöckner has banned parliamentary staffers from marching in Berlin's pride parade on Saturday. CDU chancellor Friedrich Merz backed her flag decision, arguing 'the Bundestag is not a circle tent'. His federal government's own queer commissioner Sophie Koch, from the centre-left Social Democratic Party (SPD), hit back, saying: 'If the rainbow flag is the flag of a circus, then what are queer people?' [ As summer heats up, the controversy over one teacher's claims of homophobia is boiling over Opens in new window ] Organisers of Saturday's CSD parade hope the shocks over the flag and rising violence can repoliticise a queer community more used to tolerance and progress. 'For the first time since the second World War we are not fighting for new rights but to preserve the ones we have,' said Thomas Hoffmann, a board member of Berlin's pride parade. Berlin's problems pale next to an alarming spike in violence towards regional LGBTQI+ organisations, people and parades. Last year the Amadeu Antonio Foundation – which engages against far right extremism, racism and anti-Semitism – logged 55 separate attacks on pride parades around Germany. As the tensions build from without, fault lines are growing, too, within the community. The decision of some LGBTQI+ groups to join forces with Gaza solidarity groups has others uncomfortable with what they see as damaging links to more extreme Palestinian groups and people. Another crack opened up when Kevin Kühnert, a former SPD politician, spoke of his experience of 'aggressive homophobia' in his Berlin neighbourhood, which he saw as driven by strict conservative role models and religious fundamentalism. 'In my experience, it is from men I would perceive as Muslim that you are more likely to get a homophobic remark than would otherwise be the case,' he told Der Spiegel. While the majority of the local Muslim population were not homophobic, he added, 'those who are restrict my freedom and have no right to that – and I will not be silent about this for tactical reasons". The blowback was immediate from Alfonso Pantisano, SPD queer liaison officer for Berlin's city-state government. He urged a differentiated view of homophobia as a broad phenomenon with many perpetrator groups from far right extremists to religious fundamentalists. 'I simply don't understand why we always pick out Muslims as a singular phenomenon,' he said. That in turn has prompted critical pushback from Maneo and others on the front lines of the rise in homophobic hate crime. For them, the readiness to identify perpetrator groups is key to effective prevention programmes. 'We have to call things out as they are and, in Berlin, we have a problem on this front,' said Bastian Finke, head of the Maneo anti-violence group. 'But if this is not taken seriously then we cannot have a [positive] effect.'
RNZ News
18-07-2025
- Entertainment
- RNZ News
How Samoa's Ballroom scene is carving space for Pacific futures
By Dinah Lewis Boucher , ABC Advocates say the goal isn't just about existing — it's about thriving at home. Photo: ABC / Dinah Lewis Boucher On a warm Tuesday night in Fugalei in Apia, Samoa's capital, the air hums with anticipation as a local hall fills with young people. With the Boom Kaisi Ball just days away, Pacific Rainbow+ youth have gathered for a series of workshops designed to build confidence and community in preparation for their ballroom debut. Rooted in queer Black and Latinx resistance, ballroom culture is an underground art form of performance, fashion, and chosen family now finding resonance in Samoa. It's characterised by elaborate balls, where individuals or "houses" compete in performance and dance categories. Still, beyond competition, it serves as a safe space and chosen family structure for queer individuals, fostering a sense of belonging and self-expression. Miss Samoa Fa'afafine, Ella Ganza says it means a lot to be in 'the motherland' championing community. Photo: ABC / Dinah Lewis Boucher "Ballroom is made for the confident girls," Ella Ganza said on the mic as music started to blast and participants eyed the runway, preparing to walk. As the reigning Miss Samoa Fa'afafine and Mother of the House of Alexander, she guides Samoa's youth through the world of ballroom, a deeply personal mission to uplift her community. "To see the youth, my younger sisters and brothers, be authentic, feel safe, and be celebrated in a way that's just completely them…I cried almost every night after the workshop," she told ABC Pacific. The introduction of ballroom to Samoa is a recent development, with events and workshops aimed at empowering and creating safe spaces. Photo: ABC / Dinah Lewis Boucher "It's not just about the performance - it's about nurturing a space where our young ones feel safe, celebrated, and completely themselves. "This is a calling. And it's a calling not just for us, but for those who stand with us, to serve, to protect, and to help our youth feel seen." Watching on in preparation to walk runway. Photo: ABC / Dinah Lewis Boucher For Rosie, a cisgender woman and chosen house mother, being part of this community is about allyship and chosen family. "Definitely 'chosen family' is how I'd describe it, because they chose me to be their mother," she told ABC Pacific. Rosie, wears pink flower in right ear, stands with the children of her house. Photo: ABC / Dinah Lewis Boucher As someone from outside the queer community, she said the role helped her practice inclusivity and mentor the younger generation. "This environment, with all the laughter and bonding, brings out their confidence and helps them be more expressive," she said. "I hope what they take from this journey is that they are loved - and that they are safe." Ballroom culture developed as a safe space and creative outlet for marginalised LGBTQ+ individuals, particularly Black and Latinx individuals, who faced discrimination in mainstream society. Photo: ABC / Dinah Lewis Boucher In Samoa, gender diversity has long existed outside of Western binary norms. Fa'afafine, meaning "in the manner of a woman", has been part of Samoan society for centuries. Recognised across Samoa as a third gender, fa'afafine embody a gender identity that doesn't fit neatly into male or female categories. "It's an umbrella term," Ella said, "whereas in the Western world, we like to put labels on every little thing. Are you trans? Are you gay? Are you non-binary? Are you bi? "Some could be offended by it [the term Fa'afafine], but for those who truly understand its beauty, and its truth, it is sacred. It's something that belonged to us before colonisation." Workshops aim to create a safe, confident space for Fa'afafine, Fa'atama, and the wider community. Photo: ABC / Dinah Lewis Boucher Across the Pacific, the acronym MVPFAFF+ is used to honour the region's unique and diverse gender identities. The term, coined by community activist and worker Phylesha Brown-Acton, stands for Māhū (Tahiti and Hawaii), Vaka sa lewa lewa (Fiji), Palopa (Papua New Guinea), Fa'afafine (Samoa and American Samoa), Akava'ine (Cook Islands), Fakaleiti or Leiti (Tonga), and Fakafifine (Niue), with the "+" signifying other gender identities still evolving within Pacific communities. Before colonisation and Christianity swept through the region, identities such as Fa'afafine were respected and woven into community life. Today, while many MVPFAFF+ individuals continue to hold cultural significance, many face discrimination. Runway, is one of the categories in Ballroom. Photo: ABC / Dinah Lewis Boucher "Cultural norms can shut down their potential, but events like this let them shine, and show what makes them unique," Rosie told ABC Pacific. "I just want them to be able to let loose, enjoy the night, and finally experience this freedom for themselves. "It means a lot to them. And it means a lot to me." Slay on the runway. Photo: ABC / Dinah Lewis Boucher Samoan human rights activist Maluseu Doris Tulifau of Brown Girl Woke is the event's key organiser, but said her role wasn't to take up space, it was to make space. "I just want the space for them," she said. "The third gender has always existed in Samoa - but it was washed away by colonial lies." Doris Tulifau, organiser behind bringing Ballroom to Samoa. Photo: ABC / Dinah Lewis Boucher One of the biggest challenges, she said, was that many MVPFAFF+ individuals still felt they had to leave the country to be free. "A lot of our love, support, and funding is coming from the diaspora - because many who left knew there wasn't a space for them here," she said, but stressed the goal wasn't to simply exist, but to thrive. For Ella, bringing the ball to Samoa was about creating a space where Pasifika youth can be seen, celebrated and safe. Photo: ABC / Dinah Lewis Boucher "We're building spaces that don't just allow LGBTQ+ youth to survive, but to thrive, right here at home. We don't want performative allyship. We want mentorship. We want advocacy. We want them to stay. "If everyone keeps leaving because of shame, silence, and fear - how will anything ever change?" Ballroom culture aims to provide a space where Samoa's youth are not just seen, but celebrated. Photo: ABC / Dinah Lewis Boucher Now, Ella is focused on modelling confidence, care, and the kind of visibility she didn't see growing up. "Being a chosen mother, the mother of my house - this is my own way of leaving a legacy. I may not have children biologically, but this is still my way of creating family," she said. "Confidence is how you walk into a room, but it's also how you uplift others. That's what I want to teach. That's how we progress. "I want to be what I wanted to see growing up. I wish I could've walked into a community like the one I see now." - ABC
ABC News
17-07-2025
- Entertainment
- ABC News
How Samoa's Ballroom scene is carving space for Pacific futures
On a warm Tuesday night in Fugalei in Apia, Samoa's capital, the air hums with anticipation as a local hall fills with young people. With the Boom Kaisi Ball just days away, Pacific Rainbow+ youth have gathered for a series of workshops designed to build confidence and community in preparation for their ballroom debut. Rooted in queer Black and Latinx resistance, ballroom culture is an underground art form of performance, fashion, and chosen family now finding resonance in Samoa. It's characterised by elaborate balls, where individuals or "houses" compete in performance and dance categories. Still, beyond competition, it serves as a safe space and chosen family structure for queer individuals, fostering a sense of belonging and self-expression. Miss Samoa Fa'afafine, Ella Ganza says it means a lot to be in 'the motherland' championing community. ( ABC: Dinah Lewis Boucher ) "Ballroom is made for the confident girls," Ella Ganza said on the mic as music started to blast and participants eyed the runway, preparing to walk. As the reigning Miss Samoa Fa'afafine and Mother of the House of Alexander, she guides Samoa's youth through the world of ballroom, a deeply personal mission to uplift her community. "To see the youth, my younger sisters and brothers, be authentic, feel safe, and be celebrated in a way that's just completely them… I cried almost every night after the workshop," she told ABC Pacific. The introduction of ballroom to Samoa is a recent development, with events and workshops aimed at empowering and creating safe spaces. ( ABC: Dinah Lewis Boucher ) "It's not just about the performance — it's about nurturing a space where our young ones feel safe, celebrated, and completely themselves. "This is a calling. And it's a calling not just for us, but for those who stand with us, to serve, to protect, and to help our youth feel seen." Watching on in preparation to walk runway. ( ABC: Dinah Lewis Boucher ) 'Brings out confidence' For Rosie, a cisgender woman and chosen house mother, being part of this community is about allyship and chosen family. "Definitely 'chosen family' is how I'd describe it, because they chose me to be their mother," she told ABC Pacific. Rosie, wears pink flower in right ear, stands with the children of her house. ( ABC: Dinah Lewis Boucher ) As someone from outside the queer community, she said the role helped her practice inclusivity and mentor the younger generation. "This environment, with all the laughter and bonding, brings out their confidence and helps them be more expressive," she said. "I hope what they take from this journey is that they are loved — and that they are safe." Ballroom culture developed as a safe space and creative outlet for marginalised LGBTQ+ individuals, particularly Black and Latinx individuals, who faced discrimination in mainstream society. ( ABC: Dinah Lewis Boucher ) In Samoa, gender diversity has long existed outside of Western binary norms. Fa'afafine, meaning "in the manner of a woman", has been part of Samoan society for centuries. Recognised across Samoa as a third gender, fa'afafine embody a gender identity that doesn't fit neatly into male or female categories. "It's an umbrella term," Ella said, "whereas in the Western world, we like to put labels on every little thing. Are you trans? Are you gay? Are you non-binary? Are you bi? "Some could be offended by it [the term Fa'afafine], but for those who truly understand its beauty, and its truth, it is sacred. It's something that belonged to us before colonisation." Workshops aim to create a safe, confident space for Fa'afafine, Fa'atama, and the wider community. ( Image: Dinah Lewis Boucher ) Across the Pacific, the acronym MVPFAFF+ is used to honour the region's unique and diverse gender identities. The term, coined by community activist and worker Phylesha Brown-Acton, stands for Māhū (Tahiti and Hawaii), Vaka sa lewa lewa (Fiji), Palopa (Papua New Guinea), Fa'afafine (Samoa and American Samoa), Akava'ine (Cook Islands), Fakaleiti or Leiti (Tonga), and Fakafifine (Niue), with the "+" signifying other gender identities still evolving within Pacific communities. Before colonisation and Christianity swept through the region, identities such as Fa'afafine were respected and woven into community life. Today, while many MVPFAFF+ individuals continue to hold cultural significance, many face discrimination. Runway, is one of the categories in Ballroom. ( ABC: Dinah Lewis Boucher ) "Cultural norms can shut down their potential, but events like this let them shine, and show what makes them unique," Rosie told ABC Pacific. "I just want them to be able to let loose, enjoy the night, and finally experience this freedom for themselves. "It means a lot to them. And it means a lot to me." Slay on the runway. ( ABC: Dinah Lewis Boucher ) Samoan human rights activist Maluseu Doris Tulifau of Brown Girl Woke is the event's key organiser, but said her role wasn't to take up space, it was to make space. "I just want the space for them," she said. "The third gender has always existed in Samoa — but it was washed away by colonial lies." Doris Tulifau, organiser behind bringing Ballroom to Samoa. ( ABC: Dinah Lewis Boucher ) One of the biggest challenges, she said, was that many MVPFAFF+ individuals still felt they had to leave the country to be free. "A lot of our love, support, and funding is coming from the diaspora — because many who left knew there wasn't a space for them here," she said, but stressed the goal wasn't to simply exist, but to thrive. For Ella, bringing the ball to Samoa was about creating a space where Pasifika youth can be seen, celebrated and safe. ( ABC: Dinah Lewis Boucher ) "We're building spaces that don't just allow LGBTQ+ youth to survive, but to thrive, right here at home. We don't want performative allyship. We want mentorship. We want advocacy. We want them to stay. "If everyone keeps leaving because of shame, silence, and fear — how will anything ever change?" Ballroom culture aims to provide a space where Samoa's youth are not just seen, but celebrated. ( ABC: Dinah Lewis Boucher ) Now, Ella is focused on modelling confidence, care, and the kind of visibility she didn't see growing up. "Being a chosen mother, the mother of my house — this is my own way of leaving a legacy. I may not have children biologically, but this is still my way of creating family," she said. "Confidence is how you walk into a room, but it's also how you uplift others. That's what I want to teach. That's how we progress. "I want to be what I wanted to see growing up. I wish I could've walked into a community like the one I see now."
