“Snatched. Work. Mother.” Queer Broadway actors slay ‘The Queens’ English’

It’s a rare day off for the cast of Hell’s Kitchen, the Alicia Keys musical that garnered 13 Tony nominations, when we meet in the lobby of the Shubert Theatre. Fresh from its run at the Public Theater, the Broadway transfer has kept the company busy with special appearances and eight shows a week. Amid the demanding schedule, one of them wrote a book that’s bound to become a go-to resource for the LGBTQ+ community and our allies. 

Chloe O. Davis first considered compiling a dictionary of “lingo and colloquial phrases” from the LGBTQ+ community while on tour with a dance company. Sitting in the back of the tour bus, she’d hear snippets like “Give me the T” or “snatched.” Davis started keeping a glossary and, through her research, began to explore her own sexual identity as an “openly biromantic demisexual bisexual.” The first edition of The Queens’ English was published in 2021, and the just-released young readers’ version this spring.

The theater community has long been home to queer artists. (Hell’s Kitchen takes place in and around Manhattan Plaza, the legendary affordable housing complex dedicated to the performing arts.) Hell’s Kitchen holds space for their stories. While the plot, inspired by Keys’ life, doesn’t put queer narratives front and center, director Michael Greif (Rent) and choreographer Camille A. Brown find ways for such expression through movement and gestures (keep an eye out for sapphic romance in a late ’70s flashback scene). 

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Castmates Jackie Leon and Niki Saludez joined Davis to talk about our ever-evolving queer vernacular and the journey of bringing Hell’s Kitchen to Broadway.

Bringing “The Queens’ English” to life

Davis:  The Queens’ English is a celebration of over 800 terms used to describe our collective experiences being LGBTQIA+ and celebrating the diversity of that. What does it mean to be Black and bisexual? What does it mean to be Filipino and queer? What does it mean to be 70 and just coming out? So there’s just so much language that has been created to affirm the beautiful complexity of who we are.

For example, back in the ’90s — even before, in the ’70s  — the ballroom scene was created for people of color who were first-generation in New York City and needed a place where they felt empowered, where they felt seen, where they felt heard, where not only their identity was celebrated, but also rewarded in their artistry, right? That wasn’t being taught or celebrated, so I just wanted to start there. Being part of the theater, entertainment, and dance world, I grew up learning “fierce” but not knowing exactly where that came from. And that’s actually part of my history as a proud Black bisexual woman.

The difference between authenticity and appropriation

​​Jackie Leon, who plays Jessica, one of Ali’s (Maleah Joi Moon) best friends, was born in 2000 into a world of internet culture where the lines between reality and perception are often blurred. 

Leon: It’s so complicated because it’s like a lot of things have been appropriated as Gen Z slang, like “slay, “period, “work,” “oh, my God, “mother.” When “mother” started going, like, “wow, she’s mother” it just becomes this social media term. And since everyone’s behind a profile, like, everyone’s using this language that was once very precious, and it gets commodified over time and then you just lose the understanding and the passion. Then it starts getting cringy. 

Language is really complicated in the age of the internet. It moves so fast, and it’s hard to protect anything. With labels and identities, it was extremely valuable when I was growing up to have every term, like for my lived experience, like learning the difference between bisexual and pansexual, but it’s slowly become more weaponized.

Davis: Appropriation happens in queer spaces, gay spaces, but also appropriation happens in Black spaces, right? That’s what our society has shown us for many years. The language that we speak of now that feels like it’s pop culture — the language of Gen Z or even the millennials, it’s not, right? A term like “in the closet” is from the Harlem Renaissance and is over a century old. Language evolves, and how language feels to us from one generation to the next feels different. 

Let’s take the word “queer,” which used to be a derogatory term. But now we talk to those living in 2024, and a lot of people feel very empowered by being queer, right? Because now queer is this umbrella term for someone who is non-heteronormative. It’s an umbrella term, and it feels empowering. But when we have these conversations, particularly about the evolution of words and the etymology of words between different generations, we understand how language also has power and ebbs and flows. 

I can’t dismiss someone who grew up in the ’50s and ’60s and how “queer” felt to them or how “queer” felt in the ’80s, especially during the HIV and AIDS crisis. The idea of taking “queer” or reappropriating a word that was derogatory and saying no, it’s ours is why we feel empowered to say it now.

Queerness isn’t stagnant

@hellskitchenbway Episode 4 of Welcome to Hell’s Kitchen is here, and we’re ready to dance with Camille A. Brown’s Tony-nominated choreo for #HellsKitchenBway! ♬ original sound – Hells Kitchen

For ensemble member Niki Saludez, identity — queer or otherwise — is as shape-shifting as Camille A. Brown’s dynamic choreography. Growing up in Fredericksburg, Virginia, as a first-generation Filipino American, Saludez has navigated intersectionality since childhood. 

Saludez: Five years ago, I was a completely different person than I am now. To me, queerness is something that I treasure and value so much. It exceeds sexuality; it exceeds gender identity or gender expression. It’s the purity of who I am, subtracting all of the expectations, all of the standards, all of the structures and the shapes that society tells you you should fit into. 

I’m a first-generation Filipino American, and I didn’t really have a lot of people in my life who I could look up to in terms of trying to navigate my sexuality. Being an internet kid in the age of YouTube, spending a lot of time online became a resource for research. There were definitely ways where I’ve code-switched to feel safe or feel secure within myself. But also, I feel like discovering my queerness has been such an ongoing journey because I’ve always felt like Niki.

Now, being 26 and in New York City, and grateful to pursue the arts in a space where there are a lot of people who look like me, I feel like there are still lots of ways where I’m still uncovering my queerness: who I am to the core. Sometimes, it feels like the cage doors open, but other times, it feels a little bit safer to stay within the cage instead of taking the steps out. But I feel like my queerness is so special to me in terms of my journey of coming back to myself and listening to the desires of who exactly I want to be, stripped away from all of the things that have been placed onto me.

How all walks of life converge in “Hell’s Kitchen”

Davis: Our cast is so diverse. Racially diverse. Intergenerationally diverse. Experience diverse. We have people who have been on Broadway for 40 years, and we have people just making their Broadway debut. But one thing about it, with all its diversity, we have permission and power to move singularly. Everyone has this heartbeat. Niki, as beautiful as they are, can move however they want as Filipino, as queer, exploring identity and gender expression, and Jackie as well. And we also have permission to explore that within our characters. No one’s been censored. 

During two scenes set in the 1970s, Jackie and I portray lesbians of color because we wanted to show representation and what it felt like to be a lesbian at that time. We have the opportunity to find those nuances, and even if they’re not written, through our mannerisms, behaviors, and exploration of our characters, we can bring them to life.

Saludez: I’ve been a part of this project since the first dance lab, so I’ve seen it grow ever since the seed of it. This was my first time working with Camille, and it has been one of the most nourishing experiences in my career so far. She creates space for the people that she’s working with to contribute and collaborate, and I feel so seen. I get to be myself. I get to wear my hair down in the 70s. Within Hell’s Kitchen, I get to be exactly who I am and feel so grateful for that. This being my Broadway debut, to be who I am, to look like myself, to move the way that I want to move, and to listen to that inner voice.

Camille creates her structure. She has the vision, but the way that we are able to move in and out and be fluid and be ourselves. This Broadway experience has been such an internal transformation and journey for me. In the midst of navigating a whole world of Broadway, and these new chapters of my career —  to be able to have a work where I feel so seen as myself every single night. 

Davis: It’s just giving yourself permission and grace to know identity is always evolving. What we feel today and this year can feel different next year. You have every ounce and opportunity to continue to evolve; who you are is who you are, and no one can put labels on you. 

Hell’s Kitchen is currently playing at the Shubert Theatre. The Queens’ English is available online and at booksellers nationwide.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

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