Mami! Mhie! Manay! Mother! Mudra! Mowm! Momshie! Mudrakels!

“LARO KA TALAGA, MA!” 😂 “YOU’RE MOTHERING TONIGHT, HA?” 🤩 When you hear these particular words and phrases, ano or sino ang unang pumapasok sa isip mo? Maybe, you might think of your barkada, a few notable faces here and there, gaya ng tinaguriang “mom friend” na over sa care sa inyong magkakaibigan, or perhaps, the token fashionista of the group. Baka naiisip mo pa nga yung favorite professor mong slay lagi ang fits, or even your favorite artista! From Meme Vice, Mumshie Melai, Mother Jolens, Ate Klang or Mowm, to Mother Xilhouette na malupet, and soooo many more — ang ating mga tanging ina?! At this point, anyone can be a mother, right? 

BUT! ✋ Alam niyo ba, nagsimula ang tawagan ng “mother” way, waaaay, back within LGBTQIA+ spaces? How far back? As in, 1770s levels! As it grew more popular, from London to New York (NY Cubao? chz), ang “mother” ay tinataguriang responsable for the emotional support na expected of a mother — one from a chosen family (Vasconcelos, 2024). Not all that different from folks we mentioned or people you thought of siguro, noh? And, really, not that different from our own mothers in our immediate families, too! Pareho namang slay, pareho namang caring, but have you ever wondered why or how it was born out of LGBTQIA+ movements? Ever pondered on the events leading up to it? May biglaan nalang bang gumamit? Ano kayang klaseng mga condition yung unti-unting sinilang ang salitang “mother”, na associated with empowerment ngayon — a term na we consider na pagpupuri sa ating kapwa?

Well, to answer that, we’d have to backtrack a bit! Sa susunod na mga kabanata, magpopokus naman tayo sa history ng queer mothering, from the global stage, to the local stage (hello mga ka-locuhhhls)! 256 colorful years later, “mother” persists and continues to grow and evolve! 🌱

And so, while it’s true that anyone can be a mother, know the many mothers it took for the communities, the movement rather, to stand tall, to stand still, so that we can comfortably look back to see just how far we’ve come. Sa susunod na mabitawan ng ating mga labi nating ang salitang “mother”, remember the many other figures that have echoed it back in time, that believed it could reach us, too. Know that it echoes back in time.

Getchikels? Excited na rin kami na bisitahin mo ang mga susunod na pahina para kilalanin at i-immerse ang sarili sa mga kwentong nanay who paved the way for generations of queer youth and queer elderly to find their footing and claim their space. Just think na everything na nangyari mula noon, 256 years ago noong binanggit ang “mother, ay pinabongga lang ito ng mga baklademics and the common badingz. Napayabong pa noong 1970s, and eventually, in our year of 2026 — todo na ‘toh! — has ultimately found its way to these pages… and fell into your hands. 📖

It’s been waiting for you, nakshie. 

Ano, tara? 😁

“Anong sinasabi mo tungkol sa nakshie ko?!”: Mother as a Protector of the Community 

Eto ka na nga! Ungakatan na ng past! Dati kasi, and we mean 1720s ha, homosexual intimacy was punishable by death in London, kaya naman café owner Margaret Clap had dauntlessly and compassionately provided spaces for queer folks with the available rooms in her café called the “Molly House” sa London (Baker, 2019, as cited in Vasconcelos, 2024). Kaya naman sinimulan siyang tawagin na “Mother Clap” ng mga naging patron niyang parte ng community—dasurb na dasurb! 

Across the pond naman (across the pond?!), naging tanyag na pagtawag ang “mother” among the queer African-American and Latino communities sa Harlem and the Bronx sa New York. In the 70s and 80s, malalang discrimination ang hinarap ng mga LGBTQ+ people from their own families, the wider society, at lalo na from the government during the hostile and dehumanizing era of the HIV/AIDS epidemic (Wilson, 2026). Kaya naman nagkaroon ng pagbuo ng houses 🏠! It was also primarily queer and trans people of colour who formed and joined houses, tapos magccompete yung mga houses na ‘to against each other sa mga balls for trophies and cash prizes—award diba?! 

Pero teka, ano nga ba ang balls na itekwa? Aba, tulad nga ng sabi ni mareng Madonna, “vogue, vogue, vogue”—pero alam niyo ba na ang vogue ay nagmula sa subculture na ballroom? Sa mabilisang chika, ang ballroom scene ay isang vibrant underground culture built on traditions, codes of honor, fierce competition, language, fashion, at movement for the sangkabaklaan! On top of it all, nothing in the ballroom community lasts without LOVE—love, love, love ika nga ni Kris Aquino. ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

And when there’s a house there’s a WHAT?! A mother! Sa Ballroom culture, the mother of the house was usually a gay man or trans woman with more experience in the ballroom scene at sila ang guide ng kanilang children—not only on the ballroom floor, but in LIFE. Kaya naman the mother of the house is not just a mother (but also the sister and the holy spirit? eme), but they are the historians and innovators, disciplinarians and dream-makers. ‘Di lang pag-prepare for the next Ball ang inaatupag nila, they prepare their children for life in a world that too often denies their brilliance ✨. 

Kung iisipin talaga natin, the concept of houses really comes from the idea of a chosen family, and it serves as a direct critique on the centrality of the biological, nuclear family in society. They provide an alternative to the institutionalization of marriage and family, all while heavily accepting and celebrating queerness! Something that many queer people's biological families failed to do, chrew?

Dahil diyan, sa loob ng subculture ng ballroom, ang title na “Mother of the House” ay parang respect: hindi siya ini-impose, ine-earn siya. Kaya naman, in this era of the founding mothers, importanteng kilalanin ang mga icons tulad nila Crystal LaBeija ng legendary House of LaBeija, Willi Ninja ng House of Ninja, at Angie Xtravaganza ng House of Xtravaganza. While the mother status bore no biological standing, it was based on the provision, encouragement, inspiration, and empowerment which provided a safe alternative family for queer people who had been abandoned by their biological families. 

Patok na patok sa mga chikiting!: “Mother” as Part of the Youth’s Lexicon 

Through the years, mapapansin na di na lang among the LGBTQIA+ naririnig ang paggamit sa mother, pero paano tayo nakarating sa present day, na para bang normal na normal na ang pagtawag ng mother? Well, we have the following iconic mothers to thank:

• Madonna - Love na love tawagin ng mga bakla si Madonna bilang mother dahil sa kanyang pagiging vocal with her advocacy and support during the HIV/AIDS crisis in the 1980s and 1990s. Mother Madonna was and still is a fierce champion and icon of the gay community to this day!

• Lady Gaga - During the release of her album Fame Monster in 2009, Lady Gaga was given the title of “Mother Monster” by her fans (na parang nakshies na rin niya), whom she called “little monsters”! Through her songs, character, and outspokeness with being supportive of the queer community, she truly became a mother for the gays during a time na hindi pa gaano katanggap ang kabaklaan!

• RuPaul - Through the power of Mother Ru, the premier of RuPaul's Drag Race in 2009 (daming kabaklaan ang naganap in that year noh?!) really helped queer culture and queer language eventually flourish in mainstream culture. The show uses a language that was initially shown to the public in the 1990 New York drag scene documentary Paris Is Burning. Dahil dito, RuPaul’s Drag race became a very important foundation on how the current public views and understands queer language and culture. 

Through these very important pieces of HERstory, drag lingo and queer language have since been recognized for their educational value (Are, 2022). Biglang nagkaroon ng bearing ang pagpasok ng drag into the wider debate of discussing gender, identity, and sexuality, basically opening the discourse to non-LGBTQIA+ audiences. Lalo na with Drag Race, every season makes a point of creating playful catchphrases (e.g., RuPaul’s “Shantay, you stay!” and memorable quotes (e.g., Vivacious’ “Mother…has arrived!”). Dahil sa impact ng mga iconic lines na ‘to, they are often referenced in and out of the show’s subsequent seasons!

Ang shala diba? Pero kung curious ka pa tungkol sa mga mothers na na-mention at lalong lalo na tungkol sa ballroom culture na nagpasikat sa voguing na patok na patok ngayon sa mga baklang chikiting, baka magustuhan mong panoorin ang Paris is Burning, isang sikat na documentary tungkol sa origins and meanings behind the culture of both drag and ballroom and the queer icons that made it! 

In the present day naman, makikita talaga na on a global scale, ang queer mothering ay may sari-saring mukha’t anyo: (1) mothers who are queer; (2) mothering children who are queer; (3) mothering queerly; and (4) mothering as queer (Park, 2019). Anyone can be a mother, at nakikita na ito sa non-normative mothering (e.g., single, divorced, lesbian, transgender, intersex, drag mothers), na kasangga rin ang “doing family” queerly (e.g., co-parenting with other families via the same donor, or ang pagkakaroon ng maraming mudrakels). 

In the end, ang queer mothering ay naka base talaga sa pagiging strong maternal figure that literally mothers queer and trans kids and adults alike. Maging sa paraan ‘to ng personal (e.g., housing, mentoring, and raising people) or through guiding an entire generation as a possibility model (tulad na lang ng mga unkabogable Gen Z pop stars natin ngayon tama?!).

“Anak ka ng…”: PiliPinay Mothering in Drag and Ballroom

Eventually, sa mga lokal na LGBTQIA+ movements natin, ang “mother” ay na-carry over, not just in ballroom communities here, but also extended and made popular by drag communities, along many other factions, going beyond “strictly queer spaces”, now existing alongside and within today’s lexicon, present in everyday chika, in each hi hello and goodbye, painting our conversations in warm tones. Dito sa PILIPINS 🇵🇭, hindi mahihiwalay ang mothering sa kasaysayan ng queer performances spaces, drag, ballroom, at pageantry. Ever since the dawn of time (DAWN?!), ang term na “mother” (at other variations tulad ng momshie, nhay, mhiema, atbp.) ay umiikot at ginagamit sa spaces tulad ng mga ito:

• 1970s - Ang Malate, Manila (sa haraya lang, ma!) ay tinitignan bilang “one-time gay capital of the Philippines.” Ang lugar na ito ay isang matingkad na relic of the past, a landmark para sa LGBTQIA+ culture and even activism noon, na bukod sa vibrant nightlife neto consisting of drag performances, pati na rin ang annual Pride march. 

• Early 2000s - Ang club na BED Bar & Club ay nagsilbing OG platform for our drag mothers to shine and shimmer. Kilala ang BED bilang isang staple of LGBTQIA+ nightlife sa Manila, at dito rin ginanap ang ilang drag shows.

• 2009 -  Mula noong nag-premier ang pinakaunang season ng RuPaul’s Drag Race, nagkaroon ng worldwide “drag renaissance” moment. Naging mas visible, mas celebrated, at mas mainstream ang drag culture, even in the Philippines, kung saan medyo conservative ang tingin ng general public sa queer culture, kabilang na ang art of drag. 

• 2010s - Mas lumakas pa ang drag scene sa Pinas through the rise of venues such as O Bar at Nectar Nightclub. Dito, tuloy-tuloy ang performances, competitions, and pag-#SpreadTheLove ng mga local drag queens (Pinay Collection, 2025)!

PAK! Oh, diba? Kita natin na kahit noong sinaunang panahon pa (SINAUNA?!) ay unti-unti nang lumalaki at napapalago ang local drag community. Sa kontekstong ng drag, maliban sa danas nila bilang mga batang bading noon at ngayon, naroon din ang kanilang shared love sa drag o sa o ang performance patungkol sa exaggerated gender expressions (i.e., hyper-femininity o hyper-masculinity). Bunga nito ang pagiging matatag at inklusibo ang kanilang komunidad. 

Brigiding, the infamous drag mother of ‘House of Ding’, however, recognizes the conundrum of Filipinos being family-oriented while also being very conservative  (View of the Arts, 2025). Still, ang coexistence ng mga ito ay nagiging posible sa pagsasagawa ng alternative chosen families, kung kaya’t idinidiin ni Brigiding, gaya ng ibang drag mothers, na ang safe and supportive space ay essential in her community of drag. Love, solidarity, and shared history. Pag-ibig, pakikiramay, at sama-samang pakikibaka’t pakikipagkapwa. Something that is also relentlessly echoed in similar safe spaces 🏠.

• 2020s to Present - Ngayon, lalo pang naging mas visible ang Filipino drag queens dahil sa release ng shows tulad ng Drag Race Philippines at Drag Den. 📺 Kung dati ay mostly sa medyo small, localized venues tulad ng bars and nightclubs lang nakakapag-#WerkIt ang ating Filipino drag mothers, ngayon ay umaabot na sila sa TV and streaming platforms—mas nabibigyan na sila ng national and international recognition. #FlyHighInay! 🕊️

BUT WAIT! Hindi lang ang drag community ang pinausbong at lumago in recent years, kundi pati na rin ang ballroom scene. Isang interesting practice that both the drag and ballroom communities share ay ang existence ng “house” system. 🏠 Ang “house” ay nagsisilbing both team at chosen family: magkakasama silang nag-ta-train and perform under one house name sa ilalim ng tutelage (tutelage?!) ng kanilang “mother” na gumaganap bilang trainer, mentor, and all-around support figure sa buhay ng kaniyang mga miyembro or naskhies!

Isa sa pinakauna at pinaka-influential na halimbawa ng ballroom house sa Pinas ay ang Philippine chapter ng House of Mizrahi, under the leadership of Mother Xyza Mizrahi. Dinala ni Mother Xyza ang first international voguing house sa Philippines: ang House Mizrahi na originally itinatag ng the icon and the legend na si Andre Mizrahi sa New York, USA. Si Mother Xyza ay nag-training mismo sa New York noong 2015 para matuto ng ball culture “from the source.” According to her, na-shook daw ang mga tao sa New York noong malaman na Pinoy siya. At that time daw kasi, parang hindi pa ma-imagine ng iba na may ballroom scene din sa Pilipinas, kaya ang assumption noon ay galing siya sa ibang bansa like Syria, Cyprus, or India (Legaspi, 2021; Wang, 2025b).

Kaya naman, napagdesisyunan niya na baguhin ang namamalaging assumption na walang ball scene sa Pinas—and what better way to spark change than to change things yourself? Pag-uwi ni Mother Xyza sa PURR-las ng Silangan, naging goal niyang i-develop ang ball scene sa Pinas, lalo na’t noong time na ‘yun ay limitado pa ang kaalaman at access sa ganitong uri ng community. Very “exclusive” daw kasi noon—karamihan ng information, practices, at mismong ways of building the ballroom community ay concentrated mostly sa New York at sa mga taong may direct access sa scene na ‘yun (Wang, 2025a).

Sa kabila ng barriers na ‘to, push lang nang push si Mother Xyza tungo sa kanyang goal. Regular siyang sumasali sa competitions sa Pilipinas at Asia, at madalas niyang binibisita ang New York upang magsilbing “bridge” ng international at local scenes (Wang, 2025a). Ang persistence ni Mother Xyza na pausbungin at pag-isahin ang local ballroom culture dito sa Pilipinas ay isa sa mga dahilan kung bakit unti-unting lumago ang community. Mas naging obvious ito nung COVID-19 pandemic, nang lumipat sa online spaces ang halos lahat ng communities at mas nabigyang-pansin ang ballroom both as an art form and a community. 

Noong 2021, ni-launch ni Mother Xyza ang first-ever Rainbow Ball sa Pilipinas! Isa itong ballroom event na naging paraan upang maipagpatuloy ang ballroom community kahit #lockeddown ang lahat. Through this online event, kahit na #TeamBahay ang lahat ay nagkaroon ang community ng space for performance, competition, and–most importantly—connection. Since then, ang Rainbow Ball ngayon ay kinikilala bilang isa sa biggest and most anticipated ballroom events in Asia, attracting performers from different parts of the Philippines (and even beyond)!

As the ballroom scene expanded locally, dumami rin ang mga international houses na nagkaroon ng Philippine chapters: kabilang na rito ang House of De La Blanca, House of Ninja, House of LaBeija, at House of Oricci. May houses din na in-establish ng nakshies of existing houses: isang sample dito ang Haus of Manza na pinamumunuan ni Mother Maniqueen “Nique” Manza, na kabilang sa mga nakshie ng Pinoy chapter ng House of Mizrahi. This shows na nai-pa-pass down at naipagpapatuloy ng mga nakshies ng houses ang practices, values, at ways of caring ng ballroom community. Ang mga nakshies noon ay #mothering na ngayon!

Diba isang kasabihan sa Pinas ay si mudrakels ang “ilaw ng tahanan”? 

Ganito din ang structure ng drag and ballroom houses! As discussed kanina, sa houses ay may “mother” na gumagabay sa ibang members (na tinatagurian nilang “kids” or nakshies nila) upang matutunan nila ang practices within the community at mas ma-develop pa ang performance skills nila.

Unlike some contemporary, everyday uses of “mother,” kung saan ginagamit natin siyang term of endearment sa ating friends (e.g., “Mamsh, kinabog mo naman!”), may weight or kaakibat na deeper meanings ang paggamit ng “mother” sa spaces na ito. For the people in these communities, “mother” is not just a label or nickname—it is a role, one with duties and responsibilities attached to it. Sa bansa natin, where queer people still lack the legislative (and often social) support na kinakailangan para sa maginhawang buhay, ang “mothers” na ito ang madalas inaasahang magbigay ng care, support, and sense of belonging sa kanilang mga nakshies.

Pero napaka-vague naman ng pagkalarawan natin sa responsibilities na kaakibat ng “motherhood” na ito. Ano nga ba ang “care” at “support” na ito? Bakit relevant ito sa kontekstong Pinoy? Let’s unpack it! 🔎 (Parcel ‘yarn?!)

THEY’RE SERVING! (The Community) IT’S GIVING… (Love, Support, and Care)

To look at “mothering” as it is understood in local queer spaces, kilalanin muna natin ang context na ginagalawan ng konseptong ito. Although the PILIPINS 🇵🇭 is considered one of the friendliest countries towards the LGBTQIA+ folks sa balat ng Southeast Asia, nangingibabaw pa rin ang surface-level tolerance and persistent systemic stigma, at danas ito ng mga kabataang baklush who fear social rejection (i.e., disownment, pagpapalayas, physical/verbal abuse) from their social circles (e.g., family, friends), while the guramelyas—or ‘tanders’—tend to experience actual rejection from families of origin o ang kanilang pinagmulang pamilya (Manalastas & Torre, 2016). Gayunpaman, a queer person’s psychological well-being, o ang lusog-isip ng ating mga kapwa baklitas ay talagang gumagaan kapag nararanasan ang parental acceptance, lalo na sa pagiging out sa kanilang pamilya (Gacusan et al., 2020). 

Pero dahil nga mayroong tensyon kadalasan o tolerance lamang ang mga tomboy o ang mga bakla, gumagawa sila ng mga paraan upang ma-”stabilize” ang pamilya, at para na rin makatanggap ng familial acceptance. Primarily, nagiging “TAGASALO” sila ng kanilang mga pamilya, sa pamamagitan ng suportang pinansyal o ang mga responsibilidad gaya ng care work sa kanilang kabahayan (hal. pag-aalaga sa mga lolo at lola, sari-saring chores, atbp.) (Delos Santos, 2025). Sa pagkuha ng ganitong mga responsibilidad para sa family, isa sa mga maaaring assumption nito ay sa kadahilanang hindi naman sila bubuo ng kanilang sariling mga pamilya. 

Hence, queer and trans folks search for and lean towards spaces na pupuwedeng i-express at taos-pusong ilatag ang kanilang identidad, freely and fully. As we proceed, empathy is key para tuluyang maintindihan ang ganitong danas—that is, to land upon a place that offers one full, not conditional, acceptance is nothing short of relieving and liberating. Ang pagdalo sa isang espasyo at makaranas ng taos-pusong pagtatanggap is a unique kind of experience born out of the absence or lack of support, one that was once promised to be given by our immediate family—a sobering reality. Mabuti na lang at merong na-identify na 88 safe spaces for LGBTQIA+ folks (e.g., tourist destinations, places of entertainment, cultural landmarks, community centers, restaurants, hospitals, and offices of LGBTQIA+ civil society organizations), with 72% centralized in the metropolitan area (Sigales, 2021).

Sa nabanggit nating konsepto ng tagasalo, hindi lamang ito narerestrict sa families of origin (Delos Santos, 2025). Napapansin din ito sa queer mothering sa queer community, at makikita ito sa mga safe spaces mismo na kababanggit lang. For instance, Filipino momshies (i.e., pageant handlers who identify as gay, bakla, and trans women; Alejandro, 2026) and drag mothers (Torres et al., 2026; Oros et al., 2026) ay nagsisilbing “mother figures” na nagbibigay ng professional and personal support sa kanilang mga alaga (trainees) and young drag performers, respectively. 

Bilang momshies o pageant handlers, ginagabayan nila ang training, preparation, at pati na rin emotional support ng kanilang kids to ensure na #thriving and #ready sila not just for the stage, but also for life. Ayon kay Mother Tigerlily “TL” Garcia Temporosa na isang handler ng mga gay at trans pageant aspirants, fulfilling ang pagiging trainer dahil nakikita niyang umaasenso ang kanyang mga alaga.

“Kasi kapag tumutulong ka, pagdating ng panahon, babalikan ka nila kung may maganda kang nagawa for them,” ika ni Mother TL. “Gusto ko silang nakikita na natutupad ang mga pangarap nila” (Pascual, 2014).

Meanwhile, sa drag communities naman, mother is seen as the foundation to house vulnerable youth and aspiring drag queens na kadalasang kabataang beki. In general, tinitingnan sila bilang isang figure who “stepped up” into a maternal role for LGBTQIA+ people (from individual to community level) sa pamamagitan ng pabahay (housing), mentorship, at ang paggabay (guidance) (López, 2025). 🤱

Sa loob ng drag at ballroom houses, buhay na buhay ang pagiging tagasalo ng mothers na araw-araw gumagabay, tumutulong, at nag-aalaga sa kanilang mga nakshies. Ayon kay Mother Xyza Mizrahi, very essential (lugaw yarn?) ang role ng mother sa pagpapatakbo at pagpapanatili ng isang house.

“[A mother] trains her kids to reach their highest potential as voguers, she helps with their looks at every ball or function, she guides her kids with their categories, she also organizes balls and other events for the kids,” sabi ni Mother Xyza. “She watches out for her kids, supports them, and keeps the family together” (Legaspi, 2021).

Ang sentiment na ito—of a house being a “family” for its members—is also one shared and echoed by Mother Blaze of the House of Bayle. Para sa kanya, ang “house” ay hindi lang umiikot sa performance or competition, kundi pati na rin sa personal na aspects ng buhay ng kanyang mga nakshies. Isang binigay ni Mother Blaze na example nito ay ang pagpunta niya sa dance show ng dalawa niyang kids na nag-aaral sa De La Salle - College of Saint Benilde upang magbigay ng support at encouragement.

“That’s just how houses work. Basically, you have a parent, and the parent needs to take care of their kids,” explained Mother Blaze. “It’s also about being part of their personal lives [...] You really need to build a family” (Wang, 2025b).

“Utang na loob”, rooted in ‘kagandahang loob’ (DZUP, 2025), is proactively manifested in these acts spearheaded by the mother, kung saan kinikilala ang mga mother bilang pundasyon ng social welfare within the community. Dahil nga hino-house ng mga pigurang ito ang mga puwang kung saan sumisibol ang collective recognition at consciousness, ang kahulugan ng mga lugar na ito ay continuously shaped by queer folks. 

Sa tulong ng mga mother at ng mga nakshie, nagpapatuloy ang komunidad at ang pagbibigay-oportunidad sa kapwa kabaklaan upang mamuhay nang malaya: kaakibat ang means of survival at suporta ng kanilang panibagong pamilya. Kung babalikan, alam nating mayroong families of origin na nagiging strained o completely severed pa nga, kung kaya’t ang suportang pinansyal at emosyonal ay nagiging limited o inaccessible, or in the worst case scenario, it eventually ceases and become nonexistent for those choosing to disclose their identities, especially kung konserbatibo o tradisyonal pa ang kinagisnan nila (Manalastas & Torre, 2016).

Dito pumapasok ang importance ng chosen families sa loob ng queer community. As emphasized by Mother Blaze, importanteng magkaroon ng chosen family. Ang mga houses sa drag and ballroom ay nagiging important space kung saan nakakabuo ng sense of belonging, support, and family, especially within the Philippine context.

“It’s so hard for queer individuals in the Philippines to earn money or find jobs, there’s so much discrimination,” ika ni Mother Blaze. “But with the ball scene, they love showing up the best they can [...] They really make an effort to show up” (Wang, 2025b).

Thus, the (re)production of safe spaces for LGBTQIA+, particularly itong mga alternatibong pamilya, have actually served as a primary source of unconditional support for queer folks. Sa madaling salita, wholehearted kind of belongingness (Montes Alvarado, 2017). Tethered by their shared struggles, the acts once trail blazed by the mudras are observed to be passed on by their nakshies, na kusang ipinapasa ang kagandahang loob sa kanilang kapwa.

How can we talk about mothering without giving the spotlight to the figures who helped shape our understanding of it? Tara at mas kilalanin pa natin ang ilan sa mga momshies na rumampa para sa mas inklusibo at ligtas na mga espasyo ng sangkabaklaan!

MOTHER EVA PAPAYA 

Uy baklita! Diba knows mo si Mother Ru? Aba dapat kilala mo rin ang ultimate matriarch na walang iba kundi si Eva Papaya na sinasamba ng iba't ibang henerasyon ng drag queens dito sa Manila bilang the one and the only "Mother of Philippine Drag" (Sunico, 2025). At dahil na-shoutout na rin naman natin siya, kung si Mother Ru ay may career spanning over 40 years, si Mother Eva naman ay may nearly 30 years of performing under her belt starting way back in 1998 (a kabogera in our midst!), at ‘di lang yan, she was also among the first to grace O Bar’s stage. ‘Di pa yan ang Ortigas branch ha, kundi the original Malate O Bar stage—di mo keri! 

Fun fact pa! Alam mo ba na Eva Papaya's drag name was given to her by one of her mentor's from The Library comedy bar na si Andrew "Mamu" de Real. Pero syempre, she is also most acclaimed and applauded for her iconic The Papaya Song lip sync performance—talk about branding divayn?! 

Paano nga ba siya napadpad sa O Bar at naging THEE Mother Eva Papaya? Aba, ganito kasi yan! One evening, back in O Bar Malate, may queen na nag no-show. Kaya naman, si Eva, na dating regular performer at The Library (a bar just across the street), ay na-invite ni Mon or Ramon Papa (co-owner ng O Bar) to step in as a fill-in act. Humble beginnings ang atake ni mother at ang talent fee lang noon ay Php 1,000 and a choice of four Red Horse beers or pineapple juice—award diba? 

Coming from a time when drag in the Philippines was young and unpolished, Mother Eva became a staple at O Bar as a founding resident performer and drag mother to the group that would be known as the O Divas (Untivero, 2025). Siya lang naman ang nag-set ng gold standard sa old-school performance na talagang walang makakatibag while also being one of the queens who paved the way for drag in the Philippines—we are in the presence of a legend! 

To really understand Eva Papaya's power as a drag mother, we need to understand na siya na talaga ang naging teacher, protector, and overall stage coach ng kanyang mga drag babies. Kasi naman mhie, drag mother na siya during a time without internet tutorials or ready-made costumes. Napaka-powerful ni Mother Eva dahil she was able to generously relay a wealth of hard-won drag knowledge to her children (ABS-CBN Entertainment, 2022; Sunico, 2025). Pero what really speaks to her being a pillar in the drag community as the ultimate mother is when she stepped into the mainstream media landscape, with her 2022 appearance on the ABS CBN game show “Everybody, Sing!” Hindi niya binida sarili niya and her achievements! She spoke as a proud drag mother reflecting on her journey, highlighting how the community has beautifully evolved since her early drag days in 1998 (ABS-CBN Entertainment, 2022). 

Kaya naman kung galing sa O Bar ang favorite queen mo from Drag Race Philippines, for sure may connect yan kay Mother Eva—labasan na ng family tree! Just to name a few of Eva Papaya’s pakak na pakak na drag daughters, aba unang una pa lang we have Drag Race Philippines’ first ever winner Precious Paula Nicole (kabog na agad mhie!), DeeDee Marie Holiday, Bernie and many more! Grabeng lineage yan talaga! From mastering and teaching stage makeup, to instilling rigorous performance discipline, magtataka pa ba tayo bakit napaka-powerful din ng drag children ni Mother Eva?

Because she has spent her career putting the community on her back and lifting up the next generation (we believe siya ang tunay na nag-uplift ng community tama?!) Eva Papaya is known to be the ultimate Mother in Philippine drag, kaya naman Filipino Drag Race fans want to see her do the most and honor the stage of Drag Race Philippines—Eva Papaya for DRPH Season 5!

CONGRESSMADER PERCI CENDAÑA

Ang ating susunod na featured mamshie ay napakahaba and distinguished (DISTINGUISHED?!) ng listahan of achievements. Kapag usapang karapatan ng sangkabaklaan, isa sa mga pangalang pangunahing lilitaw ay si none other than Mother Perci Cendaña, na current member of the House of Representatives of the Philippines.

From his college days in UP Diliman pa lang, very outspoken na si Mother sa mga isyung may kinalaman sa SOGIESC, gender equality and women’s rights, at social justice. In fact, kasama siya sa nag-organize ng Pride march noong 1996, a time when 100+ people pa lang ang sumasama sa LGBTQIA-related protests. Ikumpara natin ang amount na ito to current times, where hundreds of thousands na ang umaattend (Bueno, 2024).

PAK! Laki ng pinagbago sa tagal ng panahong nakalipas. Within those 30 years, nasaan si Mother Perci? Ang sagot: everything, everywhere, all at once, in pursuit of the primary goal na ipaglaban ang karapatan ng sangkabaklaan.

Si Mother Perci ang kauna-unahang openly gay Student Council Chairperson sa UP Diliman noong 1997, at youngest president ng UP Babaylan—THEE first LGBTQ+ student org sa bansa (the whole of Asia, rather!). Pero ang activism ni Mother ay hindi nanatiling confined to campus spaces lang. Sa mas malawak na political stage, Mother Perci served (literally) bilang National Chairperson ng Akbayan Citizens’ Action Party. Isa ito sa mga unang pagkakataon na may openly gay leader ang isang progressive political party globally (Akbayan Partylist, 2023).

Noong 2011, na-appoint si Mother sa National Youth Commission (NYC), kung saan siya ang very first Chair on Committee on Social Inclusion and Equity. Dito niya pinush ang mga programs para sa youth at sexual and reproductive health, tulad nalang ng pag-organize ng National Summit on Teen Pregnancy at pag-develop ng Human Rights Roadmap of the Philippine National AIDS Council. Ang usaping AIDS at teen pregnancy ay madalas kinikilala bilang taboo, pero kailangan silang pag-usapan—and Mother Perci is someone who chose (and continues to choose) to speak up.

Aside from government work, very active din si Mother Perci sa pagsulong ng awareness and better support for the community. From facilitating SOCIESC discussions with UP Rainbow Research Hub, to leading Babaylanes Inc. for LGBTQ+ youth empowerment, kitang-kita na #PerfectAttendance si Mother sa mga conversations tungkol sa inclusion, awareness, and protection of queer Filipinos and other marginalized groups (UP Rainbow Research Hub, 2023; Tunac, 2023).

Ngayon, bilang mambabatas sa House of Representatives, isinasaalang-alang pa rin niya ang karapatan at kapakanan ng groups na ito—kitang-kita ito sa pag-author niya ng mga bills and policies na nakatuon sa pagtuyak na ang mga queer nakshies ay hindi maaapi or mapapag-iwanan dahil lamang sa kanilang SOGIESC, at na may sapat na proteksyon sila laban sa discrimination in any and all spaces.

A mother protects and nurtures her children—similarly, pinoprotektahan ni Mother Perci ang kanyang mga nakshies by authoring and advocating for policies na nagsisigurong hindi tayo maaaring apihin o pagsamantalahan on the basis of our SOGIESC. Sa work niya in the government, Mother is fighting to ensure more concrete protections for the community are enshrined in the law rather than arbitrarily implemented. Anti-discrimination laws help queer nakshies get better access to housing, employment, and other critical services without being impeded by discriminatory acts that are not only socially encouraged, but also deemed acceptable under the law.

Nakikipagsapalaran si Mother sa House of Representatives—laban sa critics at mga taong hindi tanggap ang LGBTQIA+ community—upang siguraduhin na may opportunity mag-thrive ang kanyang queer nakshies without immediately being disadvantaged by the systems that be simply because they are queer.

Sa case ni Mother Perci, makikita natin na mothering is not limited to taking care of specific nakshies within a group setting and forming a found family. Some mothers, like Mother Perci, see ‘mothering’ as something that extends beyond nurturing individual relationships and into fighting for the broader queer community. Kumbaga, siya ay mama mo, mama ko, mama nating lahat—dahil karapatan at dignidad nating lahat ang kanyang ipinapaglaban.

MAMA JO, MAMA JESSE, AT MAMA BRENDA: GOLDEN BEKIS

Now, actually mga nakshie… the last key figure we’ll be tapping into isn’t just one single mother figure, but one big group of mothers! Kaya kung mother lang ang usapan, tiyak na maraming maipapambato diyan ang mga mudra ng Golden Bekis! Isang organisasyong nakasentro sa pagsuporta at pag-empower ng elderly gay men (from 50 to 60, and as old as 83!), Golden Bekis create their own products through arts and crafts, from bracelet designs, tote bags, semi-precious stone bracelets, at iba pang merch na kanilang binebenta sa mga bazaar at market (Doctolero, 2024). 

So, sa isang salon sa may gawi ng Baclaran ng isang Mama Jo Castillo (50 y/o), doon ang meeting place ng mga beki. Dito rin isinasagawa ang kanilang bracelet- at wallet-making. Mas kilala bilang Mama Jo, ang ating tanging ina’t beautician, ibinahagi niya sa isang interview na hindi nga lang sapat yung kita nila bilang mga beautician, kaya kinailangang humanap ng extra money or ang “rumaket”—from doing shows in various places, from impersonation to doing makeup services, or choreography, from Baguio to Japan, gaya na lamang ni ni Mama Jesse Hamor (66 y/o), at ni Mama Brenda Quiones (70 y/o) na grand finalist din ng Gaya Gaya Puto Maya noon sa GMA sa Eat Bulaga! 

“Mahirap po kase lalo na kapag beautician ka lang tapos umuulan at may bagyo… wala rin pong kita kasi persyentuhan lang po ako doon. Bale kapag matumal, 300 [pesos] lang sa isang araw,” pagbabahagi ni Mama Jo (Republic Asia, 2024). Isa itong experience na danas din ng ibang miyembro, as they grab various part-time jobs at every chance they can get, despite its toll on their aging bodies (Mangaluz, 2022). 

Kaya naman lahat ng ipon ngayon ng Golden Bekis mula sa kanilang crafts ay napupunta sa livelihood projects para masustentuhan ang kanilang pamumuhay at pangangailangan. Tingin niyo, bakit tayo nakasentro sa’ting mga thunderbirds (tanders)?

While they were able-bodied, members were able to provide for their families—gaya ng pagpapaaral sa mga pamangkin (recall: survival strategies on diskarte!). Ngunit nang tumanda na sila, tila ay naging ‘pabigat’ nalang daw sa kanilang mga pamilya (Mangaluz, 2022). Kaya naman once the merchandise is ready, their director at founder na si Kyle Mendrez, ay makiki-coordinate sa kung aling pamantasan o youth group ang kanilang makaka-colove! Gaya na lamang ng ilang youth groups like Talang Dalisay or sa Adamson University (Lee, 2025). Sa ganitong klaseng mga gawi, mas nabibigyang pugay ang mutual support at intergenerational connection. So, bakit nga ba napakaimportante nito? Well, founder Mendrez said it best: na ang pag-reach out nitong youth organizations, and youth individuals themselves, widen the opportunity for our elderly queers, too. 

In a way, mas nabibigyan ng lakas AT ng lakas ng loob ang ating mga thunders dahil nagpapatuloy ang kanilang legasiya. Sa katunayan, bagamat may mga sentrong tao rito gaya nina Mama Jo, Mama Brenda, at Mama Jesse, hindi maikakaila na ang titulong mother ay hindi lamang dinadala ng isang indibidwal sa kanilang komunidad. A mother is a state of mind, chrewww?!

For Mama Jo, “ang status ng mga bakla dito sa Pilipinas ay merong pagkakaisa.” Agree naman dito si Mama Brenda at sinabing, “Sana ang bakla magmahalan na lang; alam mo naman, konti lang ang buhay natin sa mundo kaya dapat hindi tayo magtaray.” At ang kanilang kolektibong hangarin, as Mama Jesse said it best: “[na] maging maginhawa ang pamumuhay, at maging masaya para sa ikauunlad rin ng mga beki,” (Republic Asia, 2024).

BOOGSH! Info overload ba, mga nhak? 😵‍💫 

Very rich ang history (both international and local) ng ‘mother’ as a term, kaya sana sa bawat, “Laro ka naman, ma!” at “Ay go, slay mo yan, mhie!” natin ay maalala at mabigyan-pugay natin ang mga pinaghugutan ng word na ito—sa queer spaces na nag-expand ng definition of ‘motherhood’ and care beyond families of origin and made it possible for us, the current Filipino youth, to have a safe space to express ourselves and find a sense of belonging. 🫂

Through previous discussions, nasagot na natin kung saan nagmula ang ‘mother’ at sinetch ang mga mudrang itetch! Ngayon naman, ang tanong ay: Ano ang pwede natin gawin para sa kanila, at sa community and nakshies na kanilang minamahal at inaalagaan?

Kasi as much as tinitingalaan natin ang mga mudrakels ng ating kanya-kanyang community, at sa buong kilusan (as we should naman!). The fact remains na the creation of safe spaces is still a “do-it-yourself” effort driven by the community’s need for liberation and protection against daily discrimination (FEATR, 2023). Halata naman sa mga mudrakels nating nagsasariling sikap para sa sarili at para sa kanilang mga nakshies. 

Dito papasok ang konsepto ng utang na loob na ating pinag-usapan kanina. Nagbasa lang, nagkautang pa, ‘no? CHAROT! What we mean naman kasi by utang na loob ay yung i-acknowledge natin na ang mga ways of caring, protecting, and mentoring na binubuo at pinapanatili ng ating ‘mothers’ sa safe spaces, ‘houses’, at found families ay HINDI accidental. Ito ay bunga ng mahabang kasaysayan ng struggle, discrimination at iba’t iba pang mga karanasan that our ‘mothers’ were at the forefront to experience. 

Kaya naman hindi dapat tayo natatapos sa pag-alam at pagkilala sa mothers that came before us. Dapat ang kaalaman na ito ay humantong rin sa pakikibaka at pakikihalok sa patuloy na pag-push for safe spaces and policies na magpapatibay sa care and support na sinimulan ng ‘mothers’ natin. Ang kailangan gawin ngayon ay hindi lang alalahanin ang ways of caring na ito, kundi isabuhay at ipagpatuloy ang mga ito, at ipaglaban ang pagsasabatas ng better rights and protections para sa ating momshies and nakshies.

Pero why is it so important to give back to the mothers that made us? (made us?!) Let's hark back to the 1970s Malate nightlife na pinag-usapan natin a few sections ago. Bagamat masasabing legendary at tila isang iconic moment in time, may ibang nagsasabing naging “problematic” space rin ito.

WELL…kung susuriin, napansin kasing mas marami pa raw dumadalo sa mga mas pribado o discreet na pride parties kaysa sa pampublikong pride parades. Which gets naman ng soafer! To an extent, maaaring isa itong isyu ng identity management at pagladlad sapagkat konserbatibong bansa nga tayo. We cannot deny ang sinasabi nila na kinulang ng political will at action sa mga espasyong ito sa siyudad ng Malate. Sa huli, ang “gay pride” raw dito ay naging isang commercial enterprise lamang — dangerously commodified, devoid of any political content and/or meaning (Baytan, 2015). Perhaps we were not ready, you might be thinking. But then, movements were not born out of waiting for our turn, hindi ba? Pero ika nga nila...kung hindi ngayon, kailan pa?

Thankfully, as we’ve learned, ang pagkalinga ng mga mudra ay naipapasa’t nagsusustain pa nga ng mga komunidad, and on a larger scale, the movement itself. Halimbawa na rito ang pagiging tagasalo natatagpuan ang mga mahiwagang technique, ang diskarte kung tawagin (Morales & Tablizo, 2026), gaya ng pagsasagawa ng drag bilang pangkabuhayan at expression ng sarili. Bagamat tinitingnan ito bilang empowering, isang simbolo ng assertion ng lehitimo’t halaga ng isang indibidwal, mayroon din itong constraining limits na mapapatanong ka kung hanggang saan ba ang kakayanin netong mga indibidwal kung sila-sila lang ang magkakasama. How do we ensure that the efforts of the mothers from centuries ago, at lalo na ng ating mga mudrakels natin ngayon, do not go in vain? Dito papasok ang ating mga panawagan para sa institutional na suporta mula sa ating pamahalaan, at lalong-lalo na patuloy na pagkakalampag para sa queer liberation. 

Upang maging lehitimo’t tuluyang maramdaman ang ganitong klaseng pag-ibig na posible pala, na hindi lamang nakukulong sa iisang imahe. Also, naalala niyo ba kung ilan ang LGBTQIA+ safe spaces na mayroon sa Pilipinas? Karamihan pa sa mga ito ay nasa urban landscape. This means that less than half exist for those in rural communities amid studies on the rural bakla youth (Presto, 2020), wherein identity exploration is seen to be an essential cornerstone in their holistic development at this period, too.

In the grand scale of things, ang pag-recognize sa LGBTQIA+ bilang isang batayang sektor sa Pilipinas ang pinaka malaking pangangailangan na magpapasemento ng tunay na seguridad nationwide, di lang para sa kilusan, pero para na rin sa mga tagapagkalinga, at sa kanilang mga inaalagaan. 

Pero for now, habang wala pa ang mga pormal na pagkilalang ito, there is no doubt as to why ang “mother” ay isang kagalang-galang, kataas-taasang mentor sa mga komunidad ng mga accla. At dahil lang naman ito sa kanilang napaka lakas na impact on the social welfare of the community! And so, while we welcome the use of “mother” in mainstream media and the everyday usapans, especially with using mother as a substitute for nicknames or a term of endearment, praise, or when we are growing closer or are already close with a friend… we have to admit: the evolution and expansion of the term “mother” teeters on forgetting its roots, which comes perilously close to something akin to appropriation ng gay culture (López, 2025). Aruhy nhaman, diba?

Kaya naman sa pag-aangkat ng “mother” at “mothering” sa structural AND historical roots nito mula sa queer perspective ay tila nabubuhayan at napapatibay ang posisyon ng queer “mothers” hindi lamang sa ating kasaysyan, kundi sa kasalukuyang kilusang umiiral ngayon. The benefits of genuine and legitimate recognition of queer motherhood—pati na rin ng alternative at chosen families—are endless, and would flourish even further given the chance to actualize in more spaces. Pero we all must start somewhere, right? Kaya naman gogogo sa taas-noong pagpupugay at pag-aalay sa mga tumatayong ina sa mga sangkabaklaan.

Ang pag-ibig ni mudra—their intention to love—na nais ipadama sa mga nakshie, na umiikot sa komunidad, ay nakikita’t nararanasan sa iba’t ibang anyo: from survival strategies to actively having a direction for the community. Itong mga legasiyang bunga ng daan-daang taon ng kilusan at pakikibaka ay nanganak din ng panibagong pag-uunawa natin sa pamilya—ang partikular na rito ang queer family and kinship. 

Bukod sa nananaig na cisheteroenderonormative na nuclear family—na sinasabing dapat husband at wife at ang kanilang mga anak ang itinuturi lamang na “pamilya”—ang mismong pagsilang ng ganitong klaseng mga set-up, that anyone can be a mother, ay nagpapakita ng potensyal na humigit pa sa ganitong mga circumstances. Lahat ito ay  napapakita ng potential to go beyond the heteronormative and nuclear family circumstances. At bagaman marami dapat tayong pasalamatan, mariin na magsimula nating kilalanin ang mga pwersa ng ginhawa at proteksyon—the mothers who have been built on respect, nurturance, and excellence they have built for themselves and for others. Para sa kanilang mga sarili at kapwa. 🧑‍🧑‍🧒 

Kaya naman, while it's good to use memes, use them in our everyday lingo to compliment one another. Let us also make an effort na kilalanin ang ating 'mothers bilang bahagi ng mas mahabang laban para sa karapatan at dignidad ng sangkabaklaan.

Katulad ni Mother Perci and all the mothers who came before, after, and during him (during?!), ipaglaban natin ang mga polisiya at programang magtitiyak na ang ways of caring and belonging na pinapahalagahan at tinataguyod ng ating ‘mothers’ within the community ay hindi maiiwan nalang sa DIY survival mode forever, kundi maisasabatas sa mga institusyon at sistemang makakapagbigay ng opportunities for queer nakshies to thrive and have better access to the services and spaces they need.

At beke nemen…pwede na rin natin ibilang ang iba’t ibang uri ng mga mother, mudra, and mimas sa mga binabati natin tuwing Happy Mother’s Day! Tama?! (Korique!)