Justyce For All: The Activism of a Young Queer Artist

Written by Brie Sheridan

Edited by Ray Carroll

Though it’s Pride Season, it’s hard not to go into it this year without a bit of hesitation. Since the beginning of the year, LGBTQIA+ Rights have been under (more highly publicized) attack. Many states are currently voting on legislation that would ban and otherwise outlaw drag performances, as well as punish individuals for their gender expression. Despite this, it’s a fight that has been ongoing for decades, something drag artist Jayde Justyce knows well.

Justyce is a nineteen-year-old drag queen from Arizona currently attending Northern Arizona University. Coming up on their sixth-year anniversary of doing drag, Justyce has been participating in the art form since they were fourteen. As a gender-fluid, second-generation Mexican-American, Justyce has been on the front lines of America’s political turmoil. Their artistry has made its way to political rallies and events, and they’ve even hosted protests in full drag. The experience was “quite liberating.” 

“My existence, in and out of drag, is a riot… it's always going to make someone uncomfortable, and in a way, I appreciate shaking up the status quo.”
An established performer, organizer, and activist, Justyce’s performances are often politically charged. Their drag journey did not start this way, however; they were originally known as “Chanel Tortilla.”

“It was a play on my Mexican-American heritage,” Justyce explains. “I eventually had to ask myself: ‘Why do I wanna be named after a French white lady?’” they recall with a laugh. They originally kept their art to themselves, a practice that’s become increasingly commonplace in more contemporary drag. “I was what’s known as a ‘bedroom queen,’” Justyce continues, “Those performers are based completely in their own home. No drag queen story time, no gigs, nothing live.” 

It’s quite a different experience than the glamour of ballroom and pageantry from which most mainstream, modern-day drag is born. As drag has built up its exposure, it has adapted to expand its audience. Many performers participated in some form of bedroom drag at the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, utilizing platforms such as Discord and Twitch. Though yet to participate in any virtual shows, Justyce remains open-minded about opportunities to do so.  There’s also some controversy about whether or not online drag is as valid as traditional drag, though it’s something Justyce seems to have no problem with.

“I do think there’s an element that’s sort of lost to the art when it’s exclusively online,” Justyce admits. “But all drag is valid regardless. What matters is how you stand out. People can remain completely online if it’s more comfortable for them.” 

Indeed, not every performer is interested in working in clubs. Bars aren’t always ideal spaces for drag shows anyways. Not only do members of the LGBTQ+ community suffer from alcoholism at rates higher than that of the general population, but hosting these events in 21+ spaces often puts younger performers at risk when they’re forced to sneak or lie their way into a venue. It’s quite commonplace, and Justyce has a history of doing so.  Social media has – to some degree – minimized these practices. This far more universalized platform is especially helpful to individuals using drag as a form of self-discovery and expression.
Introspection regarding Justyce’s relationship with their biological family also plays a role in their drag.  The eldest of eight siblings, Justyce was raised by their grandmother.  “I have a family history of addiction issues, and I often have to question if I’m contributing to that kind of culture,” Justyce admits in reflection. “Where are my personal boundaries?” 

Substance use and abuse are large aspects of queer culture. In my personal experience, they’re not things that are usually addressed, so it was refreshing to hear it even discussed.  Justyce’s conflicting feelings about substances heavily influenced them to organize Flaunt. They reveal how they’ve had plans to organize various substance-free events through the use of dining halls, campus lawns, and even a haunted mansion.

“I think getting creative with how people are exposed to drag is going to help a lot more people understand it,” they say. “Hell, I’ll do an ASMR experience if someone needs me to. Maybe even a paint night!”

It turns out Justyce has plenty of experience doing exactly this. Justyce currently leads their campus’s first club dedicated to drag: “Flaunt”, which was organized to focus on the history, performance, and art of the craft. Not only does this kind of environment allow younger audiences access to drag, but it also provides a substance-free space for anyone involved. Furthermore, Through Flaunt – which also acts as a Drag House – Justyce organizes monthly shows and collaborates with other campus clubs. Justyce acts as a Drag Mother to eight kids, like Clarity Case and Ebony Excess, and even has a drag grandchild (through Clarity), Buquethead. 

“Drag should be taken to places it’s never been before,” Justyce claims. “ I wanna see it in coffee shops, restaurants, more virtual shows… it needs to be taken where it shouldn’t be.” Justyce’s identity, drive, and ambition radiates through our conversation and their Drag persona. There’s a light and joy in their eyes when I ask them about what one of their typical performances looks like. 

“There’s gonna be scraped knees and blood. I do splits, dips, and cartwheels. I love to jump off stuff. Tables, stairs, whatever. Even the times when I tell my agent ‘I’m not gonna leap from anything’ I always end up doing it.” 

Justyce’s agent, Austin Cardone (another member of the House of Flaunt) was originally Justyce’s college mentor. Austin now works together with Justyce and the House to brainstorm conceptual performance ideas, plan out rehearsals, and handle costumes.  

“We do everything together,” Justyce states.  

Outside of Flaunt and their college, Justyce is an active member of their local and state-wide communities. In addition to working for the Flagstaff Abortion Alliance,  Justyce was quick to show they also were well-versed in Arizona’s state legislation.  Though Arizona elected a Democratic Governor and Attorney General in the 2020 midterms, the political landscape is quite divided. Three drag ban bills have been filed at the time of writing. 

“I love Arizona and its people,” Justyce says fondly, “but I know it can be better. Nothing is getting passed but no counter bills are being submitted to help. These bills that are being introduced do not stop this art or these people from existing. It’s just censorship. We will continue to exist regardless of what happens. There’s so much more we as a country can do for each other.” 

The politicians behind many of these anti-trans and drag bills likely don’t know much about either. Their viewpoints, hypothetically, could be born from simple ignorance. Justyce additionally points out that information and education surrounding queer history and identity is quite censored. I assert that sometimes it can be dangerous to even try educating people on certain matters, and there does come a point where people will simply not listen to reason. Justyce – though in agreement – reminded me that not trying is worse. 

“Communication is key,” they continue.  “If people knew who their neighbors were, on a personal level, things would change a lot more. There are so many ways to make this happen. Contribute to mutual aid, participate in community garden… all of that can help us learn from each other.”

Drag has always been a political act, and it’s amazing to see someone as young as Justyce actively keeping that aspect of it alive. It’s not hard to see how this artist leaves audiences and their community quite inspired.  A documentary about Flaunt and Justyce’s drag evolution is currently in the works with a hopeful release this August. For booking inquiries, they can be reached at  jaydejustyce@gmail.com and they can be found on Instagram @justyceforall_.