As someone who still has the heart of a teacher, few things make me happier than seeing graduates in their cap and gowns gathering for photos. For Cambodian American graduates, this time of year marks more than just a milestone, more than a celebration; that moment of getting one’s degree is a tie back to their families — and what was lost.
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My colleague Adolfo Guzman-Lopez spoke with 21 year-old Ariya Tok, who graduated from California State University, Long Beach. She and her family spoke with him about what this moment means for them, nearly 50 years after genocide forced thousands of Cambodians to resettle in the U.S. For Tok and so many other Cambodians, graduating is like a “rebirth” after the Khmer Rouge murdered three million people — many of them for being educated. Cambodians found refuge particularly in Long Beach, which now has the largest population outside of the country itself.
Tok’s mother lost 80% of her family in the Cambodian Genocide and, today, relatives still carry the weight of their relatives who were killed for trying to get an education in their homeland. For those like Ariya Tok, going to school, getting an education and a degree is a specific kind of freedom.
For more on the history of Cambodian genocide and the journey of so many refugees to Southern California, read Adolfo’s article. You’ll also learn more about the special meaning a college graduation holds for some many Cambodian Americans here.
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Normally, when people think of drag, they think of all of the over-the-top glitz and glam you might see on RuPaul’s Drag Race, or even locally at Hamburger Mary’s.
But between 1993 and 2013, an underground, edgy, alternative drag club called Dragstrip 66 defied stereotypical gay norms: the people who attended represented more than just glamour, they were about punk rock, grunge and mosh pits, too. It became a safe space for LGBTQ+ communities to fully express themselves — singing, dancing and performing — in all kinds of drag. Recently, for just one night, Dragstrip 66 came back. The event sold five hundred tickets.
For the Queer LA series, my colleague Caitlin Hernández wrote about the LGBTQ+ club’s 30th anniversary event at Los Globos in Hollywood and spoke with people who were affected by the club’s presence and influence on LGBTQ+ culture in L.A.
Paul “DJ Paul V.” Vitagliano, the co-creator of Dragstrip 66, said there was a time when some kinds of drag weren't welcomed inside of the more glamorous bars. He and his best friend Mr. Dan created Dragstrip 66 for people to indulge in all kinds of expression. It was a hit.
Throughout the decades, people could feel free to express themselves and their identities, including the “trashiness”.
“It’s called booger drag,” Vitagliano said. “You're really just a mess. You don't shave your facial hair or any body hair. When you came to Dragstrip, everybody was on equal footing.”
Dig deeper: watch the documentary about the history of Dragstrip 66 here.
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