On Monday, October 1, 2012, the world lost a legend, and I lost a close friend and mentor. This is by far the hardest topic I’ve ever written about. I first met Sahara Davenport when she lived across the street from me. At the time I was a back-up dancer for Peppermint, and I was so excited about and scared of the art of drag. One day while visiting Sahara, I met the lovely Deja Davenport. I grew very close with Deja and Sahara, and they decided to take me under their wings. Both of them gave me the love, support, and knowledge that is needed to be a successful queen in NYC. The greatest thing Sahara ever taught me was “be the difference.” She said that was what it meant to be a Davenport. We needed to be the change we wanted in the world.
Every queen has their diva who they adore. For some of us, that diva is RuPaul. For others it is Sharon Needles. For me it was Sahara Davenport. I remember watching her show at Therapy the day she was eliminated from RuPaul’s Drag Race. She said, “I was going to call off work today, but that has no class, and my friends deserve better.” She then delivered one of the fiercest performances I have ever seen in my life. She performed Vernessa Mitchell’s “This Joy,” one of Sahara’s signature songs. I remember going into the dressing room and telling her that she was so amazing and if I could ever be that great, even just once, my whole career would have meaning.
Sahara always pushed me to follow my passion, making music. She helped me with everything: writing my first contracts, creating my online biography and providing me with fierce costumes. And I was not her only protégé. She was a stand for good drag. She was always teaching, inspiring and elevating young queens: from Roxy Couture to Kiki Darling and many, many more.
She was art, beauty and sassiness all rolled into one high-kicking, jump-splitting, point-shoe-wearing diva. Sahara always said that if your look is not on point, it doesn’t matter how good you are: You’ll lose the audience in less than five seconds. In my opinion, she was the epitome of style. I used to tease her all the time, saying that her only dance move was strutting around and jumping into splits. What I never got to tell her was that she inspired me to be a stronger and brighter star then I ever thought I could be. I believe that if Sahara could send me a message from the heavens, she would say, “Child, stop crying and go on about your business.”
Sahara was my dear friend, hardcore mentor and fabulous inspiration. She was part of my family. She touched the world and, through her dynamic performances and unwavering mentorship, paved the way for a new reality of drag.
Don’t ever forget:
GO OFF, GO HARD, GO GET YOU SOME.
DON’T STAND THERE LIKE YOU DON’T WANT NONE!
