Silky Nutmeg Ganache was not Crowned the Winner of Canada’s Drag Race because she is the Powerful Combination of Black FAT and queer, And Loud About It!
This piece is for Silky. But perhaps more importantly, for the Silkys of the world.
Black — fat — queer and trans people make heartbreak enough. We wear it as our crown.
It matters that Silky Nutmeg Ganache did not win Canada vs.The World (CVTW) — not because the win means anything worthwhile or radical but because it is yet another example of how incapable you are of reckoning with the ways you treat Black FAT queer people.
Us Silkys hang our hats on being close to success or in proximity to victory. We internalize not winning, never being chosen, never being prioritized, never granted grace nor good intentions. And we blame ourselves for never being enough — never being thin enough; never being white enough; never being Black enough; never being quiet enough; never being funny enough; never being fit enough; never being worthy of taking up space with our own desires and dreams.
We are taught that the key to our success is to be loyal (to be a great friend) to thinner and *prettier people and to subject ourselves to a lesser living. However, even if we perform the aforementioned successfully, we still aren’t granted access to being treated as full vibrant human beings. These teachings and routine power dynamics show up in every aspect of our living and in every relationship we engage — our relationship to family, our relationship to friends, our relationship to career and our relationship to our damned selves.
We are expected to never talk about how poorly the world treats us. To never be honest about the pain, the violence and vitriol we receive from both strangers and our intimate relationships. To never talk about the ways anti-Blackness in the form of transphobia and fatphobia wholly alters the trajectories of our lives. Our oppressions are looked at as a mere inconvenience that no one is responsible for instead of calling it what it is — an actual killing machine. And when we do speak on said violence, the hate and vitriol of others, whether friends, foes or family, becomes fixed on us.
In overt and coded language, we are told to be happy with what little we have accumulated and accomplished in this treacherous system. And to be grateful for the smallest of niceties and the smallest acts of kindness. We are told that our time will come and to be patient, even though we all know our time will never come. We are told we are sloppy, messy, loud, ugly, untalented and unworthy of being treated humanely — all informed and proven by your displayed actions and habitual behaviors.
We are told that we are unlovable and undeserving of agency, body autonomy, consent, joy, pleasure, dignity, truth and prioritization.
The gaslighting of Black FAT queer people is intentional and strategic. It envelopes every moment of our living and is perpetuated by your refusal to see yourself as you are, as you live.
Silky did not win CVTW because she is Black FAT and queer, with emphasis on FAT. In this piece, I will leverage the drag race journey of Silky Nutmeg Ganache to speak on the plight and dehumanization of Black FAT queer and trans people.
My Black FAT trans reaction to the final lip sync and crowning
Going into the final lip sync, I knew Silky had the edge. I’m not saying that challenge wins should dictate who wins the crown, however, I am asserting that if the lip sync is too close to call then considering challenge wins is the next best data point to lean on. I thought the song choice was a good choice — not outstanding, but good; although, these two Black queens, with Black centered intimate politics, deserved the Tina Turner version but I understood the Celine Dion choice because of the Canadian connection.
The lip sync begins.
It’s dramatic and beautiful from the very beginning. Both queens are Black and present and galvanized. And the motive is clearly beyond winning. It’s about showing up in spite of it all, in spite of this capitalist machine on display. The red and the purple colors are so vibrant but the bitch in cherry is intoxicating.
I’ve pushed all in on this fantasy (preflop).
My heart, skipping beats.
My blood, pumping.
My face and palms, sweaty.
My nerves, out of control.
My Black FAT trans body, working overtime to sustain us.
I had to stand up. I felt like I was going to explode, not burst but instead take off like a rocket. I couldn’t shake this grin off my face. It was a joyful grin but it was a wicked one too. Like, I knew that people like me didn’t have access to joy like this; pleasure, like this; space, like this.
I was reckoning with this monumental moment for people like me.
This is simply a heavily produced television show, but when we’re starved of images that look like us and aren’t able to commune with people who live like us, we take what we can get. We make something, everything.
Silky is living the song, and ferociously navigating this moment.
What Silky reminds us throughout this lip sync is that she is Black. And she is the Black queen who will always give Black people the Black references we deserve. The ways she upholds the humanity of Black people in her drag is audacious and necessary.
For example -
Silky impersonating T.S Madison, a Black trans woman, for Snatch Game; Silky bringing Oprah to life in the diva challenge; Silky referencing Della Reese (a Black fat icon) from the film Harlem Nights; and Silky bringing a Black church lady character to life in the Brittany challenge, even though she fought for Whitney Houston to be the praised diva and was shut down.
Further -
Silky and all of her wig choices and styled baby hairs; Silky’s ball gowns and fashions; Silky’s continuous use of African American vernacular in any and every moment; And Silky’s intentional pulling aside of Vanity Milan to tell her that she chose her lipstick to go home, a level of care that is rarely gifted to Black queens.
THIS IS BLACK! Silky Nutmeg Ganache is Black, especially when it’s inconvenient.
To not care if anyone else gets the references (or understands your decisions) but Black people is some boss level shit, all while being fat, while being queer, while being loud and honest.
And from the beginning of this lip sync, Silky enters in her Blackness. Pay attention to that one finger up. That index finger up represents every Black church mother in Black culture in the United States. It is a way to say excuse me I’ve got some business to take care of with no intention (or maybe all the intention) of disrupting the sermon or message.
I began to cry. I haven’t felt so proud and so seen in quite a while. Watching Silky in this lip sync is like an epic battle with white supremacy and anti-Blackness, and she’s winning.
I get hung up on how beautiful she is. How absolutely radiant she is. Silky’s beauty chokes me up for a bit but I place that to the side in order to move on and process all the other gems and miracles being thrown at me.
She takes off the bottom of her exquisite gown, and it reveals into another beautiful and striking garment. She then immediately moves into the Silky Shuffle and shows us that camp resides in Black FAT queer bodies too — that camp originated in Black fat bodies, though we refuse to experience Black fat queens as full humans and talents.
I laugh and clap my hands as this Black fat bitch shuffles across the stage with her tongue wagging out. I gasp for air. My palms are even more clammy at this time. It was at this point, my beautiful black dog was trying to figure out what the hell is going on.
Silky gives us a campy gasp and then moves into not only a tribute to Tina Turner but also the great Patti LaBelle as she flaps her arms reminiscent of wings. A tribute to Patti’s wing flapping in her performance of Over the Rainbow.
Silky then moves into her final reveal.
They will say it was a clunky reveal and I assure you that’s a boring take. I assert that her final reveal is glorious as she asserts her Black FAT queer self as the motherfuckin’ reveal.
Many people won’t have the politic to unpack the image Silky gifts us. The reveal says this is me. It was a proclamation declaring, I’m very Black. I’m very fat. I’m very queer. I’m loud. I’m fearless. I’m ferocious. And I’m a goddam lady. Now eat up, and stop complaining.
And to a Black trans person, this moment is above critique. It was a cultural moment that needs to be documented, talked about and celebrated.
Towards the end of the lip sync, I feel held and protected. I feel powerful. Not the power that white supremacy informs, but the power informed by living in our fullness. At this moment, she is a fucking meteor, a burst of energy and light and power. And I am blessed to bear witness.
But I forgot how white supremacy and anti-Blackness operate. I allowed myself to forget which I cannot make habit. It is incredibly unsafe for Black trans people to forget our position in this vicious and insidious system.
I forgot for a split second that Silkys can execute at a 10 in life and be the best within the agreed upon guidelines and still lose. And still be berated. And still be erased. And still be mentally, emotionally and financially beat down. And at the end of the day, still be killed with no accountability or responsible parties. I forgot.
I allowed myself to forget.
What I noticed. And what I am noticing as we pull focus to dehumanization.
We have normalized the practice of dehumanization. Not only does it operate at a systems place but it operates in us all as individuals. We must reckon with the ways we’ve normalized dehumanizing and being dehumanized. Below are subtle and overt ways dehumanization is showing up in the discourse around CVTW.
I noticed that production and editors barely gave us a full frame of Silky’s entire body in the lipstick photo shoot with Monét X Change. This is a subtle way of condemning Black fat bodies like Silky’s. Moreover, I noticed that when Brooklyn held up Silky’s photo during the reflection stage of the competition (before the final lip syncs) we were only given a quick look at Silky’s picture as if it shouldn’t be paraded and celebrated. Notice the difference as they engaged every other finalists’ photo.
I am noticing that as white people talk about this finale, their major talking point is that Victoria Scone won the most challenges and therefore should have won the competition. They are saying that they hate the lip sync for the crown format. What they are really saying, but don’t have the nerve to be honest about, is that the Black queens don’t deserve to be the two finalists. Pay attention to how the white fandom rests on this point only in times of convenience, see Jinx Monsoon, Trixie Mattel, Blu Hydrangea and Kylie Sonique. The real deal is that the lip sync for the crown is probably the most critical challenge and most appropriate challenge in deciding the crown as THIS IS DRAG. It actually separates the privileged white queens from the origins of a very Black art.
I am noticing that we are no longer talking about Iceis’ mental wellness. The discourse has become more about how we leverage Iceis’ wellness and use it as a tool of anti-Blackness. It show ups in sentiments like,
Icesis would have won this season if they had not eliminated themselves, disregarding all the dynamic Black FAT talent of the season.
Icesis is the fashion or look queen of the season, in a season full of fashions that celebrated all bodies better than most drag race seasons.
This is an example on who we grant humanization to.
I am noticing that Black people are defending the choice of Ra’Jah O’hara being chosen to wear the crown because she has had the most dynamic story arc of all franchises. I would argue that it is Silky who has had the most dynamic story thus far, and arguably the most important story as a Black FAT queer human. The difference here is that Silky is FAT, and even Black (thin) people don’t want to reckon with it.
I am noticing that the chosen discourse around the growth of Silky from her season 11 days to her Canada appearance is solely centered around her individual growth. This is a falsehood. Sure Silky has grown more true and more dynamic over the years but it is the public’s growth that’s most significant here. The public must ask themselves in earnest, in what ways did they refuse to humanize Silky Nutmeg Ganache throughout season 11? The public must reckon with their inability to humanize Silky and the Silkys of the world. In fact, the bulk of Silky’s growth is due to the treacherous and constant transphobia, fatphobia and greater anti-Blackness she experienced from the public, specifically the drag race fandom.
I am noticing the public leveraging a double crowning as the just decision in the context of this competition. I assert that this isn’t justice, simply a scapegoat to not reckon with the insidious nature of fatphobia within anti-Blackness.
I am noticing the unending targeted vitriol towards Silky. It’s not a surprise or a shock that the day after the crowning one of Silkys’ performances was leveraged by a right wing conservative organization on social media, making her the face (and body) of the public threat of drag queens to children. This is not by coincidence, it is by design.
And one of the most humanizing moments of the season occurred between Silky and Ra’Jah -
I noticed the care Ra’Jah gifted to Silky. The way she prioritized, challenged and set Silky up for the win of the stand-up challenge is what radical prioritization of Silkys look like. It’s what humanizing a person looks like in action. Ra’Jah O’hara seems like a great sister and a dynamic friend and has proven to be a talent beyond measure. She is cosmic in her own right.
What does it even mean to be redeemed in this system? What is it about Silky’s drag race journey that needs redeeming?
I want us to collectively ponder: what does it mean to be redeemed from being our most genuine selves? What does it mean to have access to an opportunity to respond less authentically to the oppressions of being Black, FAT, queer and trans, only to receive short-term benefits from a system that at the end of the day requires our extinction?
Being redeemed is of performance. For redemption to exist for Black FAT queer and trans people, humanity must also exist.
It’s all a game created by white peoples’ power and informed by their delusions and kinks. It’s not real. It is an Olympic sport for Black Fat queer and trans people to contort their bodies and their intimate politics to receive scraps from the system. It is a circus, and we’re the elephants being trained to ride bicycles, balancing on seesaws and ropes and juggling balls. We’re abused in every way possible just to show up as your entertainment for the past 400 years.
Black FAT queer and trans people don’t need your redemption. It is you that need redeeming. It is you that must grow your humanity for the Silkys of the world. It is you that must crave forgiveness. True redemption, if it actually exists, is a gift to the people who live poorly and treat others poorly. It should be a model to us all on how to be kind and just.
Redemption is yours. Growing into a better human being is your rite of passage. It’s easy to position yourself as the morally correct and the standard of all things but extremely difficult (perhaps the most difficult thing to do) to reckon with the real and actual ways you live.
Redemption is yours to claim. In fact, the existence of this world depends on your choosing to be redeemed.
Give Silky and the Silkys in your life their flowers:
Silky executed brilliantly this season, from beginning to end. Anything less would have had her going home the first episode. The wind is always in the face of Black FAT queer and trans people, never pushing us from behind. We don’t get grace. We don’t get to make mistakes. We don’t get to slip up without dire consequences. We are berated in public and online about our FAT bodies, our Blackness, our abilities and our perceived lack of talent.
Our gifts and contributions to this world seem to always be in question.
Heartbreak is cumulative for Black FAT queer and trans people. It’s exhausting. It’s heavy. It’s consuming. And no one really understands the burden of it all but us. It is a pure miracle that we live with as much light as we do, and make the intentional decision to share that light.
There is a video circulating online of the moment Brooke Lynn Hytes announced the winner of CVTW. The moment captures the faces of both Ra’Jah and Silky. Notice that Silky said Ra’Jah’s name as Brooke Lynn announced the winner. Ask yourself, who would risk saying the other competitor’s name at this moment? Your sister’s name at that. Imagine how awkward and perhaps hurtful it would be if you’re wrong. Alas, I assert Silky remembered what it meant to be a Silky in this very moment.
Silky knew. Because Silkys always know. We may forget sometimes, but we still know.
We have to know as our safety and livelihood depends on it.
Silky did not win this crown because she is Black FAT and queer. Again, emphasis on FAT.
Silky is unapologetic. And not the unapologetic that has been co-opted by whiteness, but the real thing. Silky is loud and intends to disrupt your delusion. She is ferocious and soft and warm and implicating. Silky is counterculture and subversive. She is doing exactly what RuPaul was doing in the ‘80s and ‘90s. Her drag forces us to reckon with who we are and how we live.
Silky can never be crowned by an institution for being who she is — who the world needs her to be. Because the world is incapable of reckoning with the inhumanity it’s made normal and mundane and routine.
To have genuine love and care for Silky Nutmeg Ganache, you must humanize and care for the Silkys who show up in your everyday lives.
And making a choice to not reckon with the truth of the world we live in, and how you live, is a commitment to the unending gaslighting and death of Black FAT queer and trans people.
Answer a few questions, truthfully:
How many Silkys do you know in the media? How many do you know intimately and fully? And how does the world treat them? How do you treat them?
How do you chip away at the humanity of Black FAT queer and trans people in your everyday living? Everyday decisions?
What did Silky do without hesitation after Ra’Jah was named the winner?
How often do the Silkys of the world hand out the crowns? Holding back their feelings, their emotions, our agency all to be good sisters.
What are you willing to risk for the Silkys of the world?
*referencing the pretty politic (connected to desirability)
*italicized Silky refers to the greater Black FAT queer and trans community
*italicized words (other than Silky) is meant for us to think about the word outside of the white supremacists framework
*pronouns are meant to play with who and what is implicated
*the use of FAT is to assert that the discourse around being fat in this world is at the center of this piece in a sea of oppressions. Moreover, being Black Fat queer and trans cannot be fully analyzed by isolating identities. For instance, my being FAT does not exist without my Blackness.
Codi (she, they, all pronouns) is the Founder and Executive Director of Haus of McCoy, a queer and trans community center in Lawrence, Kansas. Moreover, Codi is a writer for the Lawrence Times, a liberation coach, a cultural critic and a dreamer who critiques pop culture at the intersection of Black trans liberation. Codi enjoys trash TV, spending time with beautiful Black trans people and loving on their dog, Monét.
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Read more of Codi’s writing on Medium.
Read more of Codi’s writing for the Lawrence Times here.
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