From The Editor: Maxi Shield’s Legacy Was Bringing People Together
The passing of Maxi Shield leaves a community in mourning, but the outpouring of grief and love is a testament to her ability to connect and create community.
“Sydney is heartbroken,” read a headline from the Sydney Morning Herald, no less.
Showgirl Maxi Shield’s cancer diagnosis caused concern, but as she entered treatment, many in the community were quietly optimistic she would recover. Her attitude seemed positive. She was well supported by her drag sisters and her partner, David. She even took to the stage just days before her passing – a sign, surely, that she was on the mend.
So when the news came that she had died, friends, family and fans were in shock. My social feed was flooded with an outpouring of grief. I’ve never seen so many people express such disbelief and sadness over the passing of a single person. Often on social media, expressions of grief can feel performative, but, for Maxi, it all felt real. That both SBS and ABC reported the story showed how significant the communal sense of loss actually was.
For me, Maxi was a fabulous Oxford Street showgirl who I had worked with when she performed at the DNA pool parties, and who I knew well enough to call Kris when I saw him out of drag. But Maxi’s appearance on RuPaul’s Drag Race made her an internationally famous drag star, too. She’d gone on to perform in theatre, written her own one-drag standup show, appeared in the indie film The Winner Takes It All, and had just been cast again in another season of Drag Race. She even famously appeared on stage with Madonna during a live show and hosted Madonna’s Rebel Heart tour after-shows.
Then came the memorial service. Hundreds of people packed the Paddington Town Hall and heard hilarious-but-heartfelt anecdotes about Maxi from drag friends Vanity and Tora. David spoke about their instant connection and how Maxi had helped him find confidence he didn’t naturally have. Marney McQueen sang Prince’s Purple Rain, Maxi’s signature tune. And we heard a tribute from Drag Race’s Michelle Visage, who said, “Maxi led with heart, with humour, and that unmistakable sparkle that made every room feel a little safer and a little brighter… she leaves courage in the people who watched her shine.”
And then something extraordinary happened. Maxi’s casket was loaded into a hearse and slowly driven down Oxford Street to Taylor Square, the heart of gay Sydney, where she often performed, and hundreds of mourners followed, accompanying Maxi on her final journey down the strip. It was a sombre, respectful, and oddly quiet procession as friends and acquaintances stopped to hug and console one another. People threw flowers as the car passed slowly by.
Maxi’s ceremony was treated with the kind of gravitas you might not expect to see for “just a drag queen”. She was not a politician, a figurehead or a high-profile activist. But the community felt so strongly about her that she was honoured with the utmost respect and love. The well-wishers were a diverse group, too: along with the LGBTQIA+ community were city councillors and politicians, media personalities and performers, academics, athletes, and families with young children.
This is what we mean when we say “community”. It’s a loose term and one that can sometimes constrain us as much as define us, but Maxi built community. She did it one-on-one and became valued as an individual of warmth, generosity and kindness. She did it locally, supporting up-and-coming talent, uplifting her peers, and volunteering her time when others needed it. And she was doing it with an ever-growing global audience.
I remembered a comment Maxi casually dropped with me at a DNA pool party. She said, “At a party full of men with beautiful bodies, thanks for letting the fat girl perform.” At the time, it just felt like a passing observation. Now I hear it differently. She knew what it felt like to be excluded, to be told, “No, not you.” She learned that it takes courage and grit to get up and claim your place on the stage, in the spotlight. She made the thing that made her “different” the thing that made her special; her superpower. It’s what Michelle Visage meant when she said that she gave courage to the people who watched her shine.
She welcomed all and included all. Perhaps losing a champion of community like that is what broke everyone’s hearts.
On behalf of all at DNA, I offer my condolences to Maxi’s family and partner, David. Thank you for the laughter, love and kindness, and for bringing us together.
