For the second year in a row, Oklahomans for Equality has scheduled Tulsa’s official Pride parade for October. The decision is a practical one; the June heat in Oklahoma had become a safety issue. While Tulsa waits for our officially sanctioned Pride, other cities continue as normal. Oklahoma City Pride took place just last weekend. Earlier in June, Claremore held their very first Pride celebration. All around the world, queer communities have been celebrating Pride Month. Not to be outdone, Tulsa’s queer community was determined to do the same, with or without OKEQ.
I’ve spent many a Pride season in Tulsa, but there was something different about this year. Over the past month, I attended as many local Pride events as possible—there were a lot, so this is by no means a comprehensive review of them—and I was reminded of Tulsa’s resilience, its DIY spirit. We’re a city full of punks, queers, and people who make do.
Ghoul Friends Queer Cabaret: Enchanted Slumber Party Extravaganza!
Starlite Bar
June 20
I’d been meaning to attend a Ghoul Friends event for a while, so I was excited to get tickets to their sleepover-themed cabaret at the Starlite Bar. Hosted by the hilariously bitchy Tabitha Litch the Dumpster Witch—a trashy Muppet—and Rita D’LaVane, this event was a total blast.
Starlite is my favorite bar in town, so I knew I was in for a good time, but I was blown away by the star power of the performers. Some, like the incredibly polished and beautiful Raven Rose with her Selena tribute, were true burlesque stars. Others were drag performers, like headliner King Perka Sexxx, who just finished a stint on the Drag Race-inspired King of Drag. My favorite performance of the night was from Mx Virtue Ali, Oklahoma’s reigning Bold & Beautiful 2025. They performed a devastating yet completely sexy lip sync of Tina Turner’s “Private Dancer” that had me near tears.
It’s important to me that Oklahoma’s queer community stays weird. It’s important to me that we attend puppet-run cabarets at the local goth bar. Who needs Drag Race when we’ve got this in our very own backyard?
Pride on Pink Street (a tiny house show)
June 22
Pink Street Management invited me to read at their house show, Pride on Pink Street, so while I’m not an “objective” observer on this one, I do want to include it in my roundup. The well-curated music lineup featured The Ugly Cowboys, Early Birdie, and Bailey Boy, all performing acoustic sets. Some of the bands brought fewer members due to the intimate setting—a quaint pink-trimmed living room that held about 15 people sitting criss-cross—but each delivered moving performances. Especially poignant was Bailey Gilbert, the frontwoman of Bailey Boy, as she sang “Trickle Down,” an anti-capitalist protest number that had everyone stomping their feet. I became an instant fan.
photos by Jerakah Greene
In between sets, Bailey Stephens-Johns (owner of the pink-trimmed living room and part of Pink Street Management’s team) performed some lovely original poems. I read a soon-to-be-published essay about transness.
Pride on Pink Street was a reminder that Pride (and pride) should be community-oriented. We should all cram into somebody’s living room and be vulnerable with each other. We should share parts of ourselves with strangers. That’s what makes community in the first place: connection.
Sisters of Cinema Screening: Paris Is Burning
Circle Cinema
June 24
Julia Holeman’s Sisters of Cinema, which screens a female-made film each month, was a much needed addition to Tulsa life. This month, the club screened Jennie Livingston’s Paris is Burning, the critically acclaimed cult documentary about Harlem’s ball scene in the late ‘80s.
This is one of my favorite films and certainly my favorite documentary. I’ve seen it about seven times (I minored in gender and sexuality studies) and each watch has been entirely unique. On some viewings, I am struck by the performers’ joy in the face of discrimination and transphobia. On others, I am devastated by the difficulties they faced, and the possibility that many of the subjects of the film were lost to AIDS. As America inches more and more toward a fascist definition of gender, and as our trans siblings continue to fight for their right to exist in public spaces, I found myself particularly wounded by this viewing.
After the screening, Julia facilitated a great discussion in which the audience explored our interpretations of the film, lightly debated it, and talked about how it relates to queer life today. An older queer woman reminded us what it was like here, in Oklahoma, to be out in the ‘80s. She encouraged us to continue listening to our elders, to learn about the past as we fight for our future.
Screening: RuPaul’s Drag Race All Stars 10
Yellow Brick Road
Throughout June
To keep it light, I attended a couple of screenings of RuPaul’s Drag Race All Stars 10 at Tulsa’s premier lesbian bar, Yellow Brick Road. I’ve spent countless hours at this bar, before and after its remodel. It’s one of the most inclusive, welcoming spaces in town—the best place to be yourself. And as RuPaul herself says, “If you can’t love yourself, how in the hell are you gonna love somebody else?”
Queerlandia
Starlite Bar
June 27
DJ Kylie’s monthly Queerlandia is not to be missed. The goths, girls, gays, and theys are there in abudance, and the Pride edition was no different. I love dancing at Starlite more than any other bar in town. I think it has something to do with how safe I feel there, how happy I am to be surrounded by other queer weirdos. It was freeing to close out Pride in my favorite place with my favorite people.
Loud and Queer Music Fest
Noise Town
June 29
With two days left of Pride Month, I attended Loud and Queer Music Fest at Noise Town in west Tulsa. I grew up just down the street from Noise Town, but this was my first trip to the venue. It’s a surprising location for a hardcore venue—a clean, white-walled suite just off of the train tracks instead of what I’m used to, namely a cobweb-infested basement in someone’s house—but it suited the day just fine. From 1pm to 8:30, a slew of bands were indeed very loud, and very queer. My standout: OKC-based MywitchMyblood, whose protest about the reality of trans lives in America was at once devastating and galvanizing. I’ll be looking out for more Loud and Queer events in the future.
I’ve struggled with the idea of celebrating Pride this year. I often feel that there isn’t much to celebrate: the Supreme Court just ruled against gender affirming care for minors; the UK recently prohibited trans women from using public restrooms according to their gender; several states have introduced legislation to overturn Obergefell v. Hodges, the ruling that resulted in federal marriage equality. It’s hard, amidst all of this, to be hopeful.
But Tulsa makes me hopeful. Our queer community is resilient, welcoming, and, most importantly, fun. The events I attended this month reminded me of how punk our scene really is. They weren’t polished or rehearsed; they were edgy, exciting, DIY. They were fun, with an underlying, electric current of activism and political awareness, amplified by the presence of community resource organizations. Tulsa Intersectional Care Network is organizing meal trains for those queer and trans folks without food security, and Trans Advocacy Coalition Oklahoma is supporting trans and gender conconforming people all over the state. I had the opportunity to learn about these organizations while watching a puppet serve cunt on stage, or while debating queer art.
Even without a funded Pride parade or an officially-endorsed schedule of events, our community refused to stay quiet last month. We refused to postpone our Pride. We found a way to remain in community with each other, even without a headliner from Drag Race. I’m proud of the way we came together. Happy Pride Month, y’all. All we have is each other.
