a&e features
Drag legend Ella Fitzgerald returns to the stage for Capital Pride festival
Donnell Robinson on 40 years as a performer and the current political backlash against drag
![](https://www.washingtonblade.com/content/files/2023/06/20190609_Ella_Fitzgerald_at_Capital_Pride_Festival_insert_c_Washington_Blade_by_Drew_Brown.jpg)
Donnell Robinson, who has dazzled audiences in the nationās capital as the drag personality of Ella Fitzgerald for at least 40 years, has the date of Saturday, March 21, 2020, embedded in his mind.
That was the last time he performed in drag. It was at the popular Southeast D.C. nightclub Ziegfeldās-Secrets, where Robinson performed as Ella Fitzgerald for nearly 40 years, before it, along with all city nightclubs, bars, and other ānonessentialā businesses were ordered temporarily closed by Mayor Muriel Bowser in response to the COVID pandemic.
āThat was the last show I did,ā Robinson told the Blade in an interview at his apartment in Arlington, Va.
A short time later, around May of 2020, Robinson and all the Ziegfeldās-Secrets employees and performers learned that the owner of the clubās building at 1824 Half Street, S.W., announced plans to demolish it to build an upscale condo building several years sooner than expected. That meant the club would not reopen when the COVID restrictions were lifted.
āSo, what I recall is in May, it was the first week in May, Steven [Delurba, the Ziegfeldās-Secrets general manager and part owner] called me and said, āHoney, do you have anything in the dressing room? Come and get it. The landlord called and said we must be out by the 15th.āā
Robinson said he has fond memories of meeting up with other drag performers, one of the longtime bartenders and other employees who came to retrieve their belongings in the dressing room and other storage spaces in the converted warehouse building that had served as home to Ziegfeldās-Secrets since 2009.
And it meant at least the temporary end to a 40-year run in which Robinson (aka Ella Fitzgerald) served as emcee and lead drag performer at the Ziegfeldās-Secrets nightclub, which began in the clubās previous location a few blocks away.
Robinson began performing as Ella Fitzgerald at The Other Side nightclub in 1980, which later changed its name to Ziegfeldās-Secrets, at its previous location on the unit block of O Street, S.E., before it was displaced in 2006 by construction of the Washington Nationals baseball stadium.
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The club did not reopen until 2009, when its owners Allen Carroll and Chris Jensen, were able to obtain a lease for the 1824 Half Street building, which Carroll and Jensen renovated before reopening the club there.
All of that has become the backdrop to Robinsonās excitement over returning to the stage as Ella Fitzgerald at D.C.ās Capital Pride festival on June 11, which will take place on Pennsylvania Avenue with the U.S. Capitol as a dramatic backdrop two blocks behind the stage.
While heās hopeful that all will go well with his upcoming performance at the Pride festival, Robinson says he is aware of the recent far-right political backlash against drag shows in states across the country.
In addition to proposed laws placing restrictions on drag shows, protests targeting drag shows, including some attempting to disrupt the shows, have also occurred in cities and states, including earlier this year in nearby Silver Spring, Md., and at a drag brunch hosted by a restaurant near the U.S. Marine Barracks on Capitol Hill in D.C.
āI have read about some of that,ā Robinson told the Blade. āI havenāt been in the drag scene in three years. But I see and know whatās going on,ā he said. āAnd my fellow drag performers who are older in my generation, I know they may be at risk. And I know I am to a degree,ā he continued.
āAnd itās a shame that we have to fear that we canāt present our art, our art form of drag and hope that nothing is going to happen to me today,ā he said. āWhy should we have to even have that thought going through our mind while weāre going through our makeup and getting ready?ā
Speaking with the Blade at his apartment, Robinson added, āIām planning to walk out of here in full drag to go to Pride. And thereās going to be part of me in the back of my mind that Iāve got to watch my back because there may be some idiot out there that doesnāt want to see an old man dress up in sequins and beads.ā
āI just donāt understand why people think that drag is going to go away,ā Robinson said. āItās not. Itās more popular now than it ever was because of RuPaul and the drag brunches and the shows that are continuing to go on.ā
![](https://www.washingtonblade.com/content/files/2023/06/20230507_Donnell_Robinson_insert_c_Washington_Blade_by_Lou_Chibbaro_Jr.jpg)
Robinson, 68, says he was born in Warrenton, Va., and grew up on a farm just outside Warrenton and raised by his grandparents. His first attempt at drag took place while in the 8th grade when he entered a school talent show portraying TV personality Flip Wilsonās drag character Geraldine Jones.
āAll of my girlfriends, they helped get it together,ā Robinson recalls. āI borrowed the wig from the school librarian,ā he said, adding he bought a red dress and borrowed a pocketbook from someone. āAnd I won the contest.ā
He didnāt do drag again until his senior year in high school, Robinson said, when he āpulled out Geraldine againā in a dramatic arts class. āI got an āAā in dramatic arts,ā he told the Blade, before graduating from Fauquier High School in June of 1974.
āThen I waited a year or so, and then I came out to do drag in 1975 in the fall,ā he said. That began when a friend introduced him to the then gay nightclub Pier 9, located in the building that later became Ziegfeldās-Secrets, where drag shows were held.
Robinson said he was impressed by the beauty of the drag performers while attending Pier 9 drag shows. āIām like, oh, so I can do that too,ā he said. And thatās exactly what he did. In October of that year, he entered a Halloween costume contest at the Pier, once again as the Geraldine Jones drag character, and won the contest in the comedy category.
From there, Robinson says, through people he met at the Pier he learned of the then D.C. gay bar Plus One on Capitol Hill, which also hosted drag shows. After auditioning and being approved as a drag performer at Plus One, the owner of the club, Bill Oats, assigned him the drag name Fanny Brice.
It was at the Plus One about a year later when Robinson met Mother Mame Dennis, the drag performer and lead organizer of the Academy of Washington, a local drag social club that organized drag events, including the Gay Miss Universe drag competition. The next day, an Academy of Washington member who performed at Plus One brought Robinson to an academy event.
It was there that Mame Dennis approached him and raised the issue of Robinsonās drag name. āShe said, āOh my dear, if you want to be in this group you need to change your name immediately,āā Robinson quoted Dennis as saying. āAnd I was like, yes maāam. She said you need to be either Nell Carter or Ella Fitzgerald,ā Robinson recounted.
āI was being a smart ass. I said, āIāll take Ella Fitzgerald for $2.ā She said, āOh, youāre funny.ā And she named me Ella Fitzgerald,ā Robinson remembers. āAnd I was her first African-American daughter in the group.ā
Through the Academy of Washington and others he met through the drag scene at Plus One and other D.C. gay bars, Robinson quickly learned what he calls the art form of drag and developed a following among those patronizing drag shows in D.C. It was through the academy that Robinson also met the owners of the then Other Side nightclub, Chris Jensen and Allen Carroll, who invited Robinson to begin performing at their club.
![](https://www.washingtonblade.com/content/files/2023/06/20090213_Ella_Fitzgerald_at_Zigfields_Opening_insert_c_Washington_Blade_by_Henry_Linser.jpg)
āThere were five of us and we did the show on a Sunday night for 500 women,ā Robinson says. āBecause, remember, between Washington Square, the earlier name, and the Other Side, it was all women. There were no men allowed until around 1986,ā he told the Blade. āSo, every Sunday night we were doing drag shows for 500 women, from ā80 until ā85 or ā86.ā
Around the time he began performing as Ella Fitzgerald, Robinson also began his other career as a hairstylist, which he says he continues at this time and will celebrate his 40th anniversary as a hairstylist in November of this year.
For much of that time, Robinson has been one of the sought-after stylists at the VSL Hair Salon at 1607 Connecticut Ave., N.W., in the Dupont Circle neighborhood. The salon recently came under new ownership and now operates under the name of Color Lab Salon at the same address.
As Robinsonās reputation as a drag performer became widely known, many of his salon clients referred to him as Ella and were regular patrons of the Ziegfeldās-Secrets drag show.
By the time Jensen and Carroll renamed the Other Side as Ziegfeldās-Secrets and through the time it relocated in the building on Half Street, S.W. and until its closing in 2020, Robinson took on the role as the emcee of the clubās Ladies of Illusion drag shows as well as that of one of the cityās most sought after drag performers, according to people who attended his shows.
In an Aug. 2, 2001, lengthy feature article, the Washington Post referred to Robinson and his Ella Fitzgerald character as the ādoyenne of Washington drag queens.ā The Post article recounted what those who have attended Robinsonās shows already knew ā that he also took on the role of a stand-up comedian engaging audience members in on-the-spot banter, often inviting audience members to come on stage to chat with Ella.
āIs that your husband?ā the Post article quoted Robinson asking a female audience member at one of the Ziegfeldās-Secrets drag shows. When the woman replied that the person was her boyfriend, Ella said with an incredulous facial expression, āThat little queen?ā according to the Post article. The audience roared in laughter.
Robinson says among the highlights of his career as a drag performer have been the recognition he has received from his peers in the drag community, including from the Academy of Washington and its leader Mame Dennis.
āOnce I changed my name to Ella Fitzgerald, Mame said, āMy dear, one day you will be Miss Universe.ā And 10 years later, Mame crowned me Miss Gay Universe. I was the first African-American Miss Universe in 1986,ā Robinson recounted.
He said the prospect of resuming his drag performances to the degree he did before Ziegfeld’s-Secrets closed was uncertain, in part, because he is dealing with a bout of sciatica that makes it difficult for him to walk and move about quickly.
“You might see me come out with a cane at the Pride show,” he said with a laugh.Ā Ā
![](https://www.washingtonblade.com/content/files/2023/06/20120610_Ella_Fitzgerald_at_Capital_Pride_Festival_insert_c_Washington_Blade_by_Michael_Key.jpg)
a&e features
Queer TV anchors in Md. use their platform āto fight for whatās rightā
Salisburyās Hannah Cechini, Rob Petree are out and proud in Delmarva
![](https://www.washingtonblade.com/content/files/2024/06/Hannah_Cechini_and_Rob_Petree_insert_courtesy_WMDT.jpg)
Identity can be a tricky thing for journalists to navigate. The goal of the job is to inform the public with no bias, but this is difficult, if not impossible, to do in practice. Everything from your upbringing to the books you read can impact how you view and cover the world. But sometimes these factors can help shine a light on an underrepresented community or issue.
Two broadcast journalists in Salisbury, Md., are using the subtle, yet impactful choice of sharing their queer identities to strengthen their reporting and connection to the community.
Hannah Cechini, who is non-binary, and Rob Petree, who is gay, co-host the 5:30-6:30 p.m. newscast for WMDT 47. They are the only known anchor team that are not only both queer, but also open out about their identities on air and, as Petree put it, āalways use [their] platform and power that [we] have to fight for what’s right.ā
Cechiniās passion for journalism played an important role in the discovery of their gender identity. They knew they were meant to be in the newsroom before they figured out they were non-binary.
āI was doing this job before I started to identify as non-binary,ā Cechini told the Blade. āI’d always watch the evening news with my dad growing up and thought it was the coolest thing. And throughout high school, I worked on the school paper.ā
After graduating from Suffolk University in Boston, Cechiniās passion for journalism only grew as they began to work in the world of news media, eventually ending up in Salisbury. As they honed their writing, editing, and anchoring skills at WMDT, Cechini also started to take an introspective look into their gender identity.
A little more than two years ago Cechini came out as non-binary to their coworkers in the newsroom and was met with support all around. āIt was definitely smoother than I anticipated,ā they said.
āIt is very freeing to be able to do this job as a non-binary person because I haven’t really seen much of that representation myself.ā
Petree, on the other hand, knew he was gay right around the same time he became interested in news media, at age 14. He started working for his high school news show and used it as a way to be open about his sexuality rather than hide it.
āI broke into broadcasting doing the morning announcements,ā he said. āI did the weather and started doing a segment called issues and insights,ā Petree said, explaining his introduction to the news. Eventually, students would ask him questions about his sexuality after seeing him on the school TV. āIt had gotten to the point in school, that if you’re going to come up and ask me if I’m gay, well shit, I’m going to tell you!ā
To him, this was the exact reason he had come out. Petree wanted to motivate others to live honestly.
āThere are a lot of people who will spend most of their lives not being out so if they can see someone like me, who’s out and proud doing his thing, so to speak, then maybe that’s the inspiration for them,ā Petree said. āTo search their own soul, find out who they are, and live their full life.ā
Petree explained that he got his start in a space that was not always welcoming to his queerness. This tested the delicate balance between being a journalist and holding your identity close.
āI’ve always been out and it was a challenge because I got my start in conservative talk radio,ā Petree said. āI’m going to be honest, some of the things I heard from people I’ve worked with, from the callers to the radio stations were absolutely abhorrent. But I never let it discourage me. It made me work that much harder.ā
Cechini highlighted the same sentiment when explaining why itās important to have out LGBTQ figures in news media. They want to show everyone that it is possible to be openly queer and successful.
āI just think that representation matters because if āJoe,ā who’s never seen a transgender person before, sees a transgender person or a non-binary person, doing a job that they’ve only ever seen straight cis people doing before, it kind of creates that understanding or bridges that gap,ā Cechini said. āIt’s like, āOK, maybe they’re not that different from me.ā And that facilitates being able to connect among different communities.ā
Both Cechini and Petree agree that having a queer coworker has made their bond stronger.
āIt’s great to have someone else next to me who I can relate to and work alongside,ā Petree said. āAnd they’re a joy to work with, they really are. There is a tremendous amount of things that we relate to together ā like we both share and have the same affinity for Lady Gaga,ā he said laughing. āAlthough they’re more of a Lady Gaga fan than I am.ā
āHannah is a tremendous journalist who really goes out of their way to make sure that the stories that they do are on point 100% of the time,ā he added. āThey’ve been great to work with and to learn from and to grow alongside. I’m very happy to have them as my co-anchor.ā
Cechini explained that the relationship between two co-anchors can make or break a newscast, and having Petree as their partner on air is a major part of the showās success.
āCo-anchoring is not just the relationship that you have on camera,ā Cechini said. āIt’s really, really important to have a good relationship with your co-anchor off-camera as well because you have to have a level of trust between you.ā
Cechini continued, saying that this relationship is crucial to working together, especially when things donāt go as planned.
āNot everything always goes to script,ā they said. āSometimes you have to be able to work together without even really talking to each other and just kind of know what to do. When you have a relationship like that with someone who identifies similarly to you or has had similar life experience, I think that just only strengthens that [relationship].ā
Although they have had similar experiences being from the LGBTQ community, Petree said it was a change for him to use āthey/themā pronouns on air.
āPrior to working with Hannah, I’ve never worked with a non-binary individual who went by the pronouns āthey/them,āā Petree said. āIt was new for me to not use traditional pronouns on air, but I can say that I have never misgendered them on air and never will. You get conditioned to using traditional pronouns and it’s easy to make that mistake, but I never have.ā
At the end of the day, they both explained, it is about doing the job right. For the duo, a part of that is understanding the diversity of people and issues in the community.
āWhen you come from a more marginalized community, I think that kind of helps to inform you a little better as a journalist because you have a better understanding of what it’s like to be āthe other guy,āā Cechini said.
āOur talent and our drive for journalism speaks for itself,ā Petree said. āAnd that resonates with people. Have we shown ourselves to be an inspiration to the LGBTQ+ community here in Delmarva? Yes, we have. And that’s something that I’m proud of.ā
The primetime nightly newscast with Hannah Cechini and Rob Petree airs weeknights from 5:30-6:30 p.m. on ABC affiliate WMDT 47.
![](https://www.washingtonblade.com/content/files/2024/06/Rob_Petree_and_Hannah_Cechini_insert_courtesy_WMDT.jpg)
a&e features
āQueering Rehoboth Beachā features love, loss, murder, and more
An interview with gay writer and historian James T. Sears
![](https://www.washingtonblade.com/content/files/2024/06/Queering_Rehoboth_Beach_book_cover_insert_courtesy_.jpg)
James T. Sears book talk
Saturday, June 29, 5 p.m.
Politics & Prose
5015 Connecticut Ave., N.W.
When it comes to LGBTQ summer destinations in the Eastern time zone, almost everyone knows about Provincetown, Mass., Fire Island, N.Y., and Key West, Fla. There are also slightly lesser known, but no less wonderful places, such as Ogunquit, Maine, Saugatuck, Mich., and New Hope, Pa. Sandwiched in between is Rehoboth Beach, Del., a location that is popular with queer folks from D.C., Maryland, Virginia, Pennsylvania, and New Jersey. The dramatic and inspiring story of how Rehoboth Beach came to be what it is today can be found in gay historian James T. Searsās revealing new book āQueering Rehoboth Beach: Beyond the Boardwalkā (Temple University Press, 2024). As educational as it is dishy, āQueering Rehoboth Beachā provides readers with everything they need to know (and possibly didnāt realize they needed to know) about this fabulous locality. Sears was kind enough to make time to answer a few questions about the book.
![](https://www.washingtonblade.com/content/files/2023/01/Buy_the_Book_button.jpg)
WASHINGTON BLADE: James, itās been a few years since Iāve interviewed you. The last time was in 1997 about your book āFrom Lonely Hunters to Lonely Hearts: An Oral History of Lesbian and Gay Southern Life.ā At the time, you were living in Columbia, S.C. Where are you currently based, and how long have you been there?
JAMES T. SEARS: It has been great reconnecting with you. After that book, we moved to Charleston, S.C. There I wrote several more books. One was about the Mattachine group, focusing on one largely misunderstood leader, Hal Call. Another book shared reminisces of a 90-year-old gentleman, the late John Zeigler, interweaving his diaries, letters, and poetry to chronicle growing up gay in the South at the turn of the last century. From there I moved to Central America where I chronicled everyday queer life and learned Spanish. We returned several years ago and then washed up on Rehoboth Beach.
BLADE: In the introduction to your new book āQueering Rehoboth Beach: Beyond the Boardwalkā (Temple University Press, 2024), you write about how a ārestaurant incidentā in Rehoboth, which you describe in detail in the prologue, became a kind of inspiration for the book project. Please say something about how as a historian, the personal can also be political and motivational.
SEARS: I want to capture readerās interest by personalizing this book more than I have others. The restaurant anecdote is the bookās backstory. It explains, in part, my motivation for writing it, and more crucially, introduces one meaning of āqueering Rehoboth.ā That is, in order to judge this āincidentāāand the book itselfāwe need to engage in multiple readings of history, or at least be comfortable with this approach. I underscore that what is accepted as āhistoryāāabout an individual, a community, or a societyāis simply a reflection of that eraās accepted view. Queering history challenges that consensus.
BLADE: Who do you see as the target audience for āQueering Rehoboth Beach?ā
SEARS: Well, certainly if you have been to Rehoboth or reside there, this book provides a history of the townāand its queeringāgiving details that I doubt even locals know! Also, for those interested in the evolution of other East Coast queer resorts (Ptown, Fire Island, Key West) this book adds to that set of histories. My book will also be of interest to students of social change and community organizing. Most importantly, though, it is just a good summer read.
BLADE: āQueering Rehoboth Beachā features numerous interviews. What was involved in the selection process of interview subjects?
SEARS: I interviewed dozens of people. They are listed in the book as the āCast of Narrators.ā Before these interviews, I engaged in a systematic review of local and state newspapers, going back to Rehobothās founding as a Methodist Church Camp in 1873. I also read anecdotal stories penned by lesbians and gay men. These appeared in local or regional queer publications, such as Letters from CAMP Rehoboth and the Washington Blade. Within a year, I had compiled a list of key individuals to interview. However, I also interviewed lesbians, gay men, transgender individuals, and heterosexuals who lived or worked in Rehoboth sometime during the bookās main timeframe (1970s-2000s). I sought diversity in background and perspective. To facilitate their memories, I provided a set of questions before we met. I often had photos, letters, or other memorabilia to prime their memories during our conversation.
BLADE: Under the heading of the more things change, the more they stay the same, the act of making homosexuality an issue in politics continues to this day. What do you think it will take for that to change?
SEARS: You pose a key question. Those who effectuated change in Rehoboth ā queers and progressive straights ā sought common ground. Their goal was to integrate into the town. As such, rather than primarily focus on sexual and gender differences, they stressed values held in common. Rather than proselytize or agitate, they opened up businesses, restored houses, joined houses of worship, and engaged in the townās civic life.
To foster and sustain change, however, those in power and those who supported them also had to have a willingness to listen, to bracket their presuppositions, and to engage in genuine dialogue. Violent incidents, especially one on the boardwalk, and the multi-year imbroglio of The Strand nightclub, gradually caused people to seek common ground.
That did not, however, come without its costs. For some ā long separated from straight society ā and for others ā unchallenged in their heteronormativity ā it was too great of a cost to bear. Further, minorities within the queer ācommunity,ā such as people of color, those with limited income, and transgender individuals, never entered or were never invited into this enlarging public square.
The troubles chronicled in my book occurred during the era of the āMoral Majorityā and āGay Cancer.ā Nevertheless, it didnāt approach the degree of polarization, acrimony, fake news, and demagoguery of today. So, whether this approach would even be viable as a strategy for social change is debatable.
BLADE: In recent years, there has been a proliferation of books about LGBTQ bars, a subject that is prominent in āQueering Rehoboth Beach.ā Was this something of which you were aware while writing the book, and how do you see your bookās place on the shelf alongside these other books?
SEARS: Queering heterosexual space has been a survival strategy for generations of queer folks. These spaces ā under-used softball fields, desolate beaches, darkened parks, and out-of-the-way bars ā are detailed in many LGBTQ+ books, from the classic, āBoots of Leather, Slippers of Gold,ā to the recently published āA Place of Our Ownā and āThe Bars Are Ours.ā Of course, these spaces did not encompass the kaleidoscope of queer life, but they provide us a historical gateway into various segments of a queer community and culture.
This was certainly true for my book. Unsurprisingly, until The Strand controversy, which began in 1988, all of Rehobothās queer bars were beyond the town limits. There were, however, homosexual watering holes in the liminal sexual space. For instance, you had the Pink Pony on the boardwalk during the 1950s and the Back Porch CafĆ© during the 1970s. So, in this sense, I think āQueering Rehoboth Beachā fits well in this ever-enlarging canon of queer history.
BLADE: As one of the most pro-LGBTQ presidents in U.S. history, how much, if it all, did the Biden Delaware connection have to do with your desire to write āQueering Rehoboth Beach?ā
SEARS: It is just a coincidence. Interestingly, as I was researching this book, I came across a 1973 news story about Sen. Joe Biden speaking at a civic association meeting. One of the 30 or so residents attending was James Robert Vane. The paper reported the senator being āstartledā when Vane questioned him about the ban on homosexuals serving in the U.S. civil service and military. Uttering the familiar trope about being āsecurity risks,ā he then added, āI admit I havenāt given it much thought.ā In Bidenesque manner, he paused and then exclaimed, āIāll be darned!ā
Biden was a frequent diner at the Back Porch CafĆ©, often using the restaurantās kitchen phone for political calls. Like the progressives I spoke about earlier, he had lived in a heteronormative bubbleāa Catholic one at that! Yet, like many in Rehoboth, he eventually changed his view, strongly advocating for queer rights as Vice President during the Obama administration.
BLADE: How do you think Rehoboth residents will respond to your depiction of their town?
SEARS: Well, if recent events are predictive of future ones, then I think it will be generally positive. My first book signing at the locally owned bookstore resulted in it selling out. The manager did tell me that a gentleman stepped to the counter asking, āWhy is this queer book here?āā pointing to the front table of āBeach Reads.ā That singular objection notwithstanding, his plan is to keep multiple boxes in stock throughout the summer.
BLADE: Over the years, many non-fiction and fiction books have been written about places such as Provincetown, Fire Island, and Key West. Is it your hope that more books will be written about Rehoboth Beach?
SEARS: My hope is that writers and researchers continue to queer our stories. Focusing on persons, events, and communities, particularly micro-histories, provides a richer narrative of queer lives. It also allows us to queer the first generation of macro-histories which too often glossed over everyday activists. So, as the saying goes, let a thousand flowers bloom.
BLADE: Do you think that āQueering Rehoboth Beachā would make for a good documentary film subject?
SEARS: Absolutely, although probably not on the Hallmark Channel [laughs]! It would make an incredible film ā a documentary or a drama ā even a mini-series. Because it focuses on people: their lives and dreams, their long-running feuds and abbreviated love affairs, their darker secrets, and lighter moments within a larger context of the countryās social transformation. āQueering Rehoboth Beachā details the townās first gay murder, the transformation of a once homophobic mayor, burned-out bars, and vigilante assaults on queers, the octogenarian lesbian couple, living for decades in Rehoboth never speaking the āL word,ā who die within months of one another. It, too, is a story of how the sinewy arms of Jim Crow affected white Rehoboth ā gay and straight. In short, āQueering Rehoboth Beachā is about a small beach town, transformed generation over generation like shifting sands yet retaining undercurrents of what are the best and worst in American life and culture.
BLADE: Have you started thinking about or working on your next book?
SEARS: The manuscript for this book was submitted to the publisher more than a year ago. During that time, Iāve been working on my first book of fiction. It is a queer novel set in early nineteenth century Wales against the backdrop of the Napoleonic wars and industrialization. I want to transport the reader into an era before the construction of homosexuality and at the inception of the womenās movement. How does one make meaning of sexual feelings toward the same gender or about being in the wrong gender? In the process of this murder mystery, I integrate Celtic culture and mythology and interrogate how todayās choices and those we made in the past (and in past lives) affect our future and those of others.
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a&e features
D.C. Latinx Pride seeks to help heal the community
Much history lost to generations of colonialism
![](https://www.washingtonblade.com/content/files/2022/06/Latinx_Pride_at_2019_Capital_Pride_Parade_insert_c_Washington_Blade_by_Michael_Key.jpg)
The Latinx History Project will host its 18th annual Latinx Pride with a series of 11 events this year.
Latinx History Project, or LHP, was founded in 2000 to collect, preserve and share Latinx LGBTQ+ History. Six years later, they began hosting DC Latinx Pride.
Board member Dee Tum-Monge said organizers saw a need for the event that centered Latinx community members.
“LHP knows our queer history as Latinx folks has most often been lost to generations of colonialism and imperialism,ā they said. āWhich is why we focus on documenting and highlighting the impact our community has in D.C. and beyond.ā
According to UCLA School of Law, there are more than two million Latinx LGBTQ adults that live in the U.S.
āEvents specifically for the Latinx community are important not only to make our experience visible but also to create spaces where we can grow closer with other groups and each other,ā said Tum-Monge.
This year they kicked off DC Latinx Pride with a crowning ceremony for their royal court on May 31.
Their three-part series, āLa SanaciĆ³nā, is underway with part two planned for June 16.
āSanaciĆ³n in Spanish means āhealingā which is a big part of what we want to bring to Pride,ā said Tum-Monge. āOur communities go through a lot of trauma and hate, but we know thereās more to us. Our goal is to foster connection with ourselves, nature, community, and spirituality.ā
In conjunction with the series there is a slate of other events; tickets can be purchased at latinxhistoryproject.org/pride.
In addition, Latinx Pride will march in the Capital Pride Parade on Saturday and participate in the festival on Sunday. To stay involved with Latinx History Project after Pride and hear more about future events visit latinxhistoryproject.org.
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