The Black Flamingo

by Dean Atta

He smiles. “I’ve got a better idea— how about a dance?” He winks. “Why not give this brother a chance?” I hand Daisy my rum and Coke and take Kieran’s hand. He leads me to the dance floor. Beyoncé’s “Sweet Dreams” is playing now.

Dancing with Kieran is better than a dream. He puts his hands on my waist and pulls me toward him. He bends both his legs to bring his groin in line with mine and we sway side to side, finding a mutual rhythm.

“Why don’t you give me your number?” I say, handing Kieran my phone. I can feel the Death Stare of Miss Green Hair.

guess it doesn’t matter. I’ve already forgiven her, and now Destiny’s brother could become my man.

Remember that this is a character, it’s gender play but not necessarily about your gender.

Remember eyebrows are sisters, not twins.

Keep the receipts—they often convince you to buy more than you need or will ever use. Know that your skin tone matters—not just for finding the right shade of foundation but also for finding the right tone for your act. Do NOT do blackface . . . unless . . . No, just don’t do it. Remember makeup doesn’t make your drag work, clothes don’t make your drag work— your attitude and intentions are what make it work. Aesthetic isn’t everything but don’t look a mess . . . unless it’s on purpose. Do everything with purpose.

Be in control, even if you plan to make it look like chaos. Read the room. Be shady but not bitchy.

Wear a chest plate to give you pecs and abs or boobs, if you want to. Pad hips and bum, if you want to. Cinch your waist, if you want to.

Shave or add hair, if you want to. Make none of the above adjustments if you don’t want to. Know why you want to do this. If you don’t know why, why the hell are you doing this? Really, why the hell are you doing this? Ask yourself the night before, Why the hell am I doing this? Ask yourself the morning of, Why the hell am I doing this?

It’s giving up worrying about being universal and being you. It’s doing what feels true. It’s knowing that doing drag and being trans are not the same. It’s gender nonconforming. It’s gender bending. It’s gender ascending. It’s

I look at everyone in their costumes and it’s like we’re about to do a play that we’ve been rehearsing for, separately, our whole lives. I’ve not seen anyone else’s act in full and they’ve not seen mine, either, and yet we’re about to do this show, together.

Despair is love for what isn’t here anymore, or never was. Love is a costume.

“I always saw black excellence around me and online but it didn’t feel like it was mine because I was not perceived as fully black. I felt queerness made me even less black.

What I wear is for me. What I perform is for me. What I write is for me.

I defended myself. Maybe said more than I should but I feel so good.

I wish Jack had changed, I wish he had apologized, but I’m satisfied having given him a piece of my mind.

How to Come Out as Gay Don’t. Don’t come out unless you want to. Don’t come out for anyone else’s sake. Don’t come out because you think society expects you to.

Come out for yourself. Come out to yourself. Shout, sing it. Softly stutter. Correct those who say they knew before you did. That’s not how sexuality works, it’s yours to define. Being effeminate doesn’t

Be a bit gay, be very gay. Be the glitter that shows up in unexpected places.

to say you’re gay and later exchange it for something else that suits you, fits, feels better.

Be the fabric of his shirt the muscles in his shoulder, your shoulder.

Be a beautiful thing. Be the moonlight, too. Remember you have the right to be proud. Remember you have the right to be you.

Thank you to Michael Twaits and my graduating class of The Art of Drag course, Ben Connors, and Tate London Schools and Teachers for believing in this work at an early stage.