Drag March for Trans Rights 2026: Visibility, Resistance and the Power of Showing Up

By Cesar A Reyes

On September 20, San Diego’s Hillcrest will once again become a place where drag, protest, community, and unapologetic visibility meet in the streets. The 2026 Drag March for Trans Rights is returning at a moment when transgender and nonbinary people are facing an increasingly hostile political climate, and organizers say the answer is not to retreat. It is to show up loudly, collectively, and with love.

For Amber St. James, the African Bearded Queen, the march has always been about more than a single day of activism. Having grown up in San Diego, she is a drag artist, activist, producer and mother who has spent nearly 12 years performing, St. James came into the Drag March during its second year and quickly saw an opportunity to make the event more connected to the people it was created to support. “The Drag March was born out of a need for visibility and solidarity for the trans community on behalf of the drag community,” she says. Her goal was to make sure trans voices were not simply the reason for the march but an integral part of it, from the speakers to the performers.

That mission remains at the heart of the 2026 march. “The mission to be a march that can be a moment for inspiration and action to uplift and protect the trans community has never waivered,” St. James says. In a political climate where trans people are often reduced to talking points, she sees visibility as something more powerful: a way of showing people that a future exists.

“Visibility is how we continue to be loud in a political climate hell bent on the silence and erasure of the trans community,” she says. “This unapologetic visibility is how we continue to keep the light shining on the beauty of the trans community.”

Jesse Greika, better known as Glitz Glam or GG, general manager of Urban MO’s and a longtime advocate for San Diego’s HIV and queer communities, traces the march to a similar sense of urgency. As anti-trans legislation began spreading across the country, drag performers with platforms decided they could not simply watch from the sidelines. “A group of Drag Queens with voices and platforms decided to get together to raise awareness and promote trans visibility,” Greika says.

For Greika, that need has only become more urgent. “Our main goal has always been visibility and protection of our trans community,” they say, pointing to the current administration’s efforts to create “false narratives” surrounding trans and nonbinary people. The march, then, becomes a way to push back—not just with political arguments, but with the simple and undeniable presence of people standing together.

Sister Ida, a 20th fully professed Sister of Perpetual Indulgence and member of the Drag March planning group, brings another layer to that fight. Her connection to the march became personal after the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence were thrust into a national political controversy surrounding the Los Angeles Dodgers. As the story spread through national media, Sister Ida found herself unexpectedly pulled into a debate about LGBTQ+ visibility and the right to exist openly.

For her, participating in San Diego’s Drag March became a natural extension of the Sisters’ mission. “We love our Transgender community and have the visibility to make a difference,” she says. “It drives us each year, as the climate in society seems driven from a dark place that we counter with light and love.”

That idea—countering darkness with visibility and joy—runs through the march. Sister Ida describes the organizers as “DRAGtivists,” combining performance with activism and using the visibility that comes with drag to create space for people who may not always feel safe being seen.

“The WORD is VISIBILITY,” she says. “We are visible representations of those who are invisible.”

Chad Michaels understands that power from more than three decades of performing in San Diego. A drag entertainer for 35 years, producer of the Dreamgirls Revue at Urban MO’s for 23 years and winner of RuPaul’s Drag Race, Michaels has watched generations of queer San Diegans find themselves through nightlife, performance, and community.

For him, the Drag March grew from a straightforward message to trans people: you are not alone.

“Community leaders felt it was time to rally around and let our Trans Siblings know they are loved, supported, and safe within our community,” Michaels says.

That sense of belonging is especially important when visibility can feel like a political act in itself. Michaels believes that seeing people who are different from ourselves can create the possibility for understanding. “Visibility is important because it lends itself to building bridges and understanding between people who might not otherwise know or encounter each other,” he says. “Visibility offers different perspectives to those willing to pay attention and fosters change through connection and communication.”

The 2026 march is also bringing some significant additions to the lineup. The organizers are welcoming Fantasia Royale Gaga, one of San Diego’s newest community members, along with legendary transgender performer and actress Candis Cayne as speakers. 

The day will retain some of the elements that have become part of its identity. Greika says participants can expect sign-making and a preshow in the back lot of MO’s before the march heads toward Rich’s for the main programming, featuring speakers and artists.

But organizers are careful not to suggest that people need to be activists, performers or experts to participate. Michaels’ invitation is much simpler: “If you want to get involved simply show up.”

Come in drag. Bring a dog. Make a protest sign. Bring a friend. Bring your voice. Or simply stand beside someone who needs to know they are not standing alone.

“Strength through community is the goal,” Michaels says. “But your presence is the most important and effective message one can send.”

For St. James, that collective presence is what makes the march so powerful. After years of organizing queer spaces, she understands that sometimes the most meaningful thing a community can offer is a place where people can see themselves reflected and know they belong.

This year, the Drag March is asking San Diego to make that statement again.

Michaels calls it “FAMILY,” because, as he puts it, “that is what we are here in Hillcrest.” And when family is hurting, he says, “we need extra.”

So on September 20, the invitation is simple: get up and get out. Join the march. Be visible. Be vocal. Stand with trans and nonbinary people. Bring your joy, your anger, your creativity, and your love.

Because in 2026, showing up is not just participation. It is the message.