Stormé DeLarverie: The Woman Who (Maybe) Threw the First Punch at Stonewall

Each June we celebrate Pride Month, a chance to lift up LGBTQIA+ people by commemorating their rich histories and cultural impact while never forgetting the sacrifices and pain along the way. The date of this observance intentionally coincides with the anniversary of the Stonewall riots, a momentous series of spontaneous protests in Greenwich Village, NYC in 1969 that are widely considered to have jump-started the modern gay rights movement. 

While many prominent figures from the era who dedicated their lives and careers to advocacy are household names—including Harvey Milk, Sylvia Rivera, Marsha P. Johnson, and Bayard Rustin—we also honor those who never considered themselves leaders or activists. Some found themselves in the right moment at the right time and made split-second decisions that would alter the trajectory of history, standing up against injustice and paving the way towards a more inclusive world. One such woman was Stormé DeLarverie, a legendary drag king and androgynous fashion icon whose wholly unique life story intertwined itself with the gay rights movement—including the moment when, according to many, she threw the first punch at the Stonewall Inn on June 28, 1969.

DeLarverie was born to a white father and a Black mother in New Orleans, Louisiana in 1920. Caught between two worlds as a biracial child in the Jim Crow South, she faced violence and harassment even before realizing she was a lesbian around age 18. Fearing for her life if she stayed in the South, she moved to Chicago where she sang as a woman in jazz and swing orchestras and eventually met Diana, a dancer and her romantic partner for the next 25 years.  

After a time when she claimed to have worked as a bodyguard for mobsters and a period jumping horses for the Ringling Brothers Circus, DeLarverie finally found a place where she could truly be herself: touring the nation from 1955-1969 as the MC and sole female member of the Jewel Box Revue, America's first racially integrated drag show. While friends and peers worried that performing in drag would ruin her reputation, she didn't care. "It was very easy. All I had to do was just be me and let people use their imaginations... It never changed me. I was still a woman." 

Wearing her trademark tailored suits, penciling in a thin mustache, and singing with a husky baritone, DeLarverie's unique style and stage presence were completely unprecedented in the time period and made her a favorite with audiences. Performing often at the Apollo Theater in Harlem, DeLarverie became popular enough that she ran in circles with the likes of Dinah Washington and Billie Holiday—herself no stranger to confronting prejudice from the stage.

By the late 1960s DeLarverie had established herself in New York City and had become a regular at the Stonewall Inn, a popular gay bar in Greenwich Village in Lower Manhattan. When the NYPD raided the establishment in the early morning of June 28, 1969, the situation quickly dissolved into chaos and a raucous crowd formed as alcohol was seized, female patrons were inappropriately frisked, and arrestees were escorted outside to police wagons. 

As the crowd chanted "gay power" and began to sing "We Shall Overcome" while throwing pennies and beer bottles at the wagons, a woman in handcuffs—identified by many as DeLarverie—broke away from her escort and began fighting the police after one officer hit her on the head with a baton. The spontaneous and historic rebellion began in earnest when she looked to the gathered crowd and shouted "Why don't you guys do something?" Whether or not DeLarverie was actually the one who threw the first punch will never be known for certain, but everyone agrees that she was present and participated in the struggle during the ensuing uprising.

While her actions at the Stonewall Inn earned her the moniker "the Rosa Parks of the gay community," her involvement in the liberation movement lasted the rest of her long life. During the 1980s and 90s she worked as a bouncer at a number of prominent lesbian bars—including the famous Cubbyhole—and served her community as a volunteer street patroller, keeping an eye out for intolerance and bullying. According to her obituary, "she literally walked the streets of downtown Manhattan like a gay superhero... She was not to be messed with by any stretch of the imagination." 

Her continued upstanding in the face of bigotry and her commitment to the safety and well-being of her peers was simply DeLarverie being authentic to herself, to the woman she always was—she reportedly worked as a bouncer until age 85. When asked about her lifelong dedication to this often thankless work, she replied: "Somebody has to care. People say, 'Why do you still do that?' I said, 'It's very simple. If people didn't care about me when I was growing up, with my mother being Black, raised in the south… I wouldn't be here.'"

Although she passed in 2014 at the age of 93, her legacy lives on—and recognition of her impact is growing. Photographs of DeLarverie in her trademark suits have appeared in multiple galleries including the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and she is now considered a trailblazer in the history of gender-nonconforming women's fashion. The Smithsonian Institution’s National Portrait Gallery in Washington DC even hosted an exhibit in her honor called “Stormé at Stonewall” that sought to rectify her absence from typical narratives of the event. 

When the Stonewall National Monument was unveiled on the 50th anniversary of the riots in 2019—the first US National monument dedicated to LGBTQIA+ rights and history—DeLarverie was included as one of the inaugural 50 "pioneers, trailblazers, and heroes" on the National LGBTQ Wall of Honor alongside James Baldwin, Audre Lorde, Harvey Milk, and other groundbreakers in the movement.

As we make space during Pride Month to center the history, impact, and experiences of LGBTQIA+ upstanders, it’s vital to remember those who never sought to be remembered—who stayed out of the spotlight and inspired others by living selfless lives of empathy, courage, and care. Stormé DeLarverie's story is a powerful reminder that sometimes simply being yourself in the face of a world that makes you feel unwelcome is enough to spark meaningful change and create a better future.