Jimmy Somerville didn’t just sing—he soared. From “Smalltown Boy” to queer disco defiance, his voice gave power to the vulnerable and rage to the silenced. We remember the icon who turned falsetto into a battle cry—and the day I met him at a flower stand in San Francisco. Charming. Unforgettable. Revolutionary.
Bayard Rustin was the architect of the March on Washington—and the conscience of a movement that often tried to sideline him. This post honors Rustin’s radical strategy, quiet leadership, and fight for justice at every intersection.
Leslie Feinberg didn’t wait for permission to exist. They claimed it. This post honors Feinberg’s radical call for gender self-determinism—and the right we all have to name ourselves, fully and on our own terms.
Sylvia Rivera fought for the queer people the world tried to forget—trans women, unhoused youth, drag queens, street workers, and the most vulnerable among us. This post honors her fierce, uncompromising activism and her legacy of never leaving anyone behind.
Before Harvey Milk, there was José Sarria—the drag queen, activist, and self-proclaimed Empress Norton. This post honors José’s royal defiance, political courage, and the dazzling power of queer pageantry as resistance.
Harvey Milk believed that visibility was survival—and that hope could never be silent. This post honors his legacy as a leader, an activist, and a symbol of the power that comes from simply being seen.
The Rise of EmpathyTech
They Are Trying to Erase Us. We Have Been Here Before.
