With the public transition of Chaz Bono and Laura Jane Grace, transgender activism has become more mainstream in the music industry over the past 10 years than ever before.

Chaz Bono, son of legendary musicians Sonny and Cher, has reached out to the transgender community in many ways. Consistently promoting positive views to those struggling with gender dysphoria, Bono has authored four books and was featured in a documentary about his transition. Bono also holds the distinction of being the first openly transgendered man to appear on a major network show, though for reasons other than his sexuality, when he appeared as a competitor on “Dancing with the Stars.”

Laura Jane Grace, lead singer and frontwoman of the punk rock band Against Me!, has reached further with her activism, focusing on creating music that can increase the general public’s understanding of transgender issues. The band’s sixth studio album, 2014’s “Transgender Dysphoria Blues,” largely dealt with gender dysphoria and the confusion surrounding it. Grace, who was inspired by a fan to begin her transition, described gender dysphoria to Rolling Stone magazine.

“It’s a feeling of detachment from your body and from yourself,” Grace said. “And it’s really fucking shitty.”

Mykki Blanco, a transgender rapper who recently performed at NYU with fellow LGBTQ-positive rapper Le1f, has already made her mark in hip-hop history. As one of the first rappers to truly embrace and represent the LGBTQ community within an increasingly globalized culture, she stands out in an unforgettable moment in music history. Hip-hop, traditionally misogynistic and occasionally homophobic, has not had a place for gay or transgendered rappers. In fact, it has been notorious for its male dominated perception. Blanco is at the vanguard of a new age of artists that the genre previously ignored, opening the doors of hip-hop even wider and making a diverse genre even more inclusive.

Unfortunately, success stories such as these have only been recent developments. Sara Davis Buechner, a classical pianist and former NYU faculty member, has said in a 2013 New York Times piece that her promising career in the United States dissipated after she began her transition.

“In the United States, once I came out as Sara, I couldn’t get bookings with the top orchestras anymore, nor would any university employ me,” she said.

Buechner’s career thrived upward and eastward as she experienced great success in both Canada and Asia, however. Although her struggles regaining a foothold in her home country are a testament to the view of transgender people in the United States, musicians such as Blanco and Grace are leading American music into a more progressive future.

A version of this article appeared in the Thursday, April 9 print edition. Email Logan Baker at [email protected] 

The term “gay icon” is thrown around constantly in the entertainment world. Cher and Madonna come to mind for their strong connection to their gay fans. Their chart-topping dance pop pushed the boundaries of sexuality and gave listeners a haven for expression.

In an increasingly accepting world, the term gay icon is becoming less about activism and more about fan base. The artists are more often than not making pop music, though there are exceptions like Against Me! and their punk songs about gender dysphoria. The gay icon is transient, with different parts of the community fawning over different pop musicians. The major artists considered. considered gay icons in recent years including Beyoncé, Britney Spears, Lana Del Rey, Marina and the Diamonds and Lady Gaga. The last of these performers is perhaps the most embracing of her title of gay icon.

Openly bisexual, Lady Gaga, who attended the Tisch School of the Arts for drama prior to dropping out to pursue music, is known for her philanthropy and political forwardness. She even started the Born This Way Foundation for empowering youth to be more accepting and raise money for charities that benefit LGBTQ teenagers.

As of late, Gaga has been letting the spotlight shine on other artists while she focuses on rebranding herself as a jazz artist. Despite not being outright involved in activism recently, she is still considered a prominent gay icon due to the size of her LGBTQ fanbase. Even though she is not currently involved in activism, she took her world tour to Russia as a form of subversion. Interestingly enough, feminist punk band Pussy Riot’s pro-gay protest in the Moscow Cathedral did not garner the band much of a gay following.

Whether outright standing up for the LGBTQ community in an active way or garnering approval from their target audience, several factors go into giving an artist the title of a gay icon. Nonetheless, the fact remains that the gay community is a powerful driving force in music and is showing no signs of slowing down.

A version of this article appeared in the Thursday, April 9 print edition. Email E.R. Pulgar at [email protected] 

“Mom… Dad…” said stand-up comedian Wanda Sykes in a viral video from 2010. “I gotta tell y’all something. I hope you still love me. I’m just going to say it. Mom, Dad…” Sykes builds suspense in silence. “I’m black.”

Sykes’ performance, which was featured on HBO, is a contemplation on what it would be like if people had to come out as black. Sykes, who is black and lesbian, approaches coming out with extreme and hilarious hyperbole, enacting a situation in which race is treated like sexuality.

“‘Give her cancer, Lord,’” she said imitating her parents.

Comedians have long been leading the way for the LGBTQ community. From talk show host Ellen DeGeneres to entertainer Neil Patrick Harris, comedians’ sexualities do not lead or define their careers. Viewers saw as much when Harris played Barney, a ragingly heterosexual playboy, on “How I Met Your Mother,” which simply proves Harris’ skill as an actor. DeGeneres and Harris are leaders of a community that has long faced discrimination on screen.

For stand-up comedians, however, sexual orientation is more of a talking point. Standup comedy is based on personal experiences and observations, which LGBTQ comedians use to their advantage. Wanda Sykes is just one of many LGBTQ standups who directly addresses problems the community faces. Sampson McCormick,  the first openly gay black man to headline the Howard Theater in Washington, D.C. and a self-described “double minority,” uses the stage to pinpoint issues such as HIV and hate crimes.

Onstage, comedians are able to be loud and abrasive about issues. In many ways, stand-up comedians are activists. By discussing and commenting on flaws of human nature, they reveal that there is always something that could be improved, whether it is airplane food or gentrification. For LGBTQ standups, some choose to criticize the stigma about coming out as Sykes did, while others choose not to, such as James Adomian who opened an act by shouting gleefully to the audience in “Meltdown” in 2011.

“Where are my gays at?” he asked.

In this bit, Adomian discussed the vilification of gay people in media, from the chortling villain of the Gummy Bear video to Javier Bardem’s Raoul Silva in “Skyfall.”

Both approaches create open discussion of the very pressing and very serious issues the LGBTQ community faces. Stand-up comedy is a humorous way to communicate to general audiences. Using personal anecdotes and observations, audiences of all genders and sexualities are able to understand the injustice minorities face.

For this reason, standup comedy is one of many paths which will exact justice for the wronged. Stand-up comedians use the stage to wryly point out the many wrongs with the country, and LGBTQ comedians are at the forefront of change for the better.

A version of this article appeared in the Thursday, April 9 print edition. Email Audrey at adeng@nyunews.com

In the second-season finale of “Looking,” which turned out to be the HBO show’s final episode, a couple has an argument. They walk in and out of an elevator, down a hallway and into a parking garage, debating whether they really belong together — shot all in one take. Every couple has been there, and it just so happens that these two are men.

In creator Michael Lannon’s version of San Francisco, the city seems to be filled with only LGBTQ people. Almost every character on the show is gay. Still, for some, the first season did not feel gay enough. If this show is about three gay 30-somethings soul-searching in California, where was everything that would make them truly seem gay? The second season fixed that problem by sending the three protagonists to a gay orgy in the woods and having one work at a center for transgender teens.

Excepting these events and the fact that the three men talk about how much they like other men, “Looking” does little to make its characters seem overwhelmingly gay, and that is the point. They spend more time trying to figure out who they are than chasing bears and daddies. “Looking” is proof that, regardless of sexual orientation or gender, everyone tries to figure out who they are at that age.

“Transparent,” the amazon.com dramedy about a patriarch of a Jewish family who realizes that all he ever wanted to be was a matriarch, is similarly effective because it is the rare show with a range of sexual orientations. There are men who like women, women who like men, women who like both, men-turned-women who might be interested in women and more. But despite all the mix-and-match sexuality, the show is ultimately people revealing who they always wanted to be: sexual orientation is only a part of that.

“Transparent,” like “Looking,” has a number of LGBTQ characters, and it often makes it clear that they are not straight. But in the most surprising twist yet, the Jill Soloway-created show also makes it obvious that the straight people on the show are like the LGBTQ characters, not the other way around. That is a testament to the fact that, while these LGBTQ characters have different sexual interests, there is something universal that binds everyone on this show. While “Transparent” and “Looking” are both about LGBTQ characters, they are not about being LGBTQ. Instead, they use gayness to ponder something more universal that everyone has in common, and that is as progressive as television can be.

A version of this article appeared in the Thursday, April 9 print edition. Email Alex Greenberger at [email protected]