By Wynde Dyer/The Portland Observer
Performer pushes aside negative stereotypes to establish unique identity

There aren't many African American men who can say they've never experienced racism. There aren't many openly homosexual men who can say they've never dealt with homophobia. But there is one - and he wears a dress.

Kevin Cook is "Poison Waters" in Portland's drag community and for him, there is no line drawn between black and white, gay and straight or male and female. He thrives on blending those lines and showing others with that people are just people and they're all beautiful.

"I just can't relate when it comes to discrimination," Cook said. "I can't say I've experienced racism or homophobic stuff. I don't listen to any negative stuff - I don't have the energy to waste on anything that isn't positive. Either you're too black or not black enough or you're too gay or not gay enough. The way I see it, you're not going to please everyone so you might as well just be yourself."

Cook's optimism has made him not only a popular performer on Friday and Saturday nights at Darcelle XV Showplace, downtown at 208 N.W. Third, but also a role model for gay youth who are trying to accept their sexuality.

Through his website, www.poisonwaters.com, Cook offers Dear Abby-style counseling to members of the community on how to deal with life's obstacles. Through the 'Ask Poison' section of the site, Cook personally answers dozens of professional and personal questions about sexuality, relationships, coming-out experiences, HIV and other topics fans are eager to get his input on.

"I get all these people telling me, 'I want to be like you,'" he said. "It's great to be a role model, but it was nothing I ever meant to be. At first I was scared, but it made me realize I had better be able to live what I'm talking."

Cook said his most important mentoring engagement is with Women's Intercommunity AIDS Resource, a northeast Portland group that provides services for women with AIDS and their families.

Each year the group sponsors Camp Starlight, a week long summer camp for children aged five through 17 who are infected with AIDS or have been affected by AIDS. For the past two years, Cook has acted as a volunteer counselor at the camp.

"I know it sounds so Miss America, but it totally changed my life," he said. "Going to camp with these kids really puts the whole world in perspective - and we have fun, too. It's not like we sit around and say, 'So, your mother's ill, huh?' and stuff like that. No, we have a blast!"

Camp Starlight brought Cook some personal introspection.

The realization came when Cook saw a 10-year-old boy with AIDS take 10 pills as big as thumb nails before breakfast. Cook said if that little boy could choke down those pills each day without complaining, he figured he should be able to better maintain a positive outlook on life.

"If that little boy can deal with this disease," Cook said. "I should be able to deal with my ex-boyfriend being a jerk."

After that defining moment, Cook vowed to quit worrying about negative things. He took stock of the good things in his life and eliminated the bad things, like recreational drugs and drinking too much. Now every time he makes a decision, Cook stops and asks if he would be embarrassed if a camper or their parents saw him.

Camp Starlight also caused him to slow down and spend some time thinking about where he came from and who he wanted to be.

Cook was born near Santa Monica, Calif. to an African American father and a Mexican-Indian mother. He said the family moved from "a multicultural middle-class melting pot of everything" to outer northeast Portland when he was 11. He and his sister were usually the only African Americans in his classes at Parkrose.

In high school, he excelled academically, socially and in extracurricular activities like band, choir and orchestra. But Cook said he always felt like there was something different about him. He had crushes on girls and went to the prom three times but said he never had romantic inclinations towards women.

"These days gay is everywhere," Cook said. "But at the time I thought I was the only one. I thought that no one else could be having these thoughts and feelings like mine. I had no direction and no role models."

Lost and alone, when Cook turned 18 he looked to Portland's under 21 gay community for help. He found it at City Night Club, a now closed 18-and-older music and performance venue. It was there that Cook realized he wasn't the only one, and once he stepped out of the closet, it was like a breath of fresh air. His family and friends accepted his sexuality without issue.

"I hear these terrible stories from kids about their parents disowning them," Cook said. "I never had to deal with that. To this day my mom still comes to my shows. Nobody ever had a problem with me, I had a problem with myself."

Strangely enough, Cook fixed that problem and found comfort with his identity by putting on a dress.

There was just something about the glitter and the glamour of drag that drew him in - the rhinestone sparkles, the dresses with feathers, the high-heeled shoes and the Colgate smiles spoke to him.

Cook began envision himself in a dress when he saw his first group of African American female impersonators perform at City Night Club.

"The other drag queens repulsed and disgusted me," Cook said. "But these ladies really knew what they were doing. I was blown away - they looked like real women. I think it took seeing someone like me to be able to appreciate the beauty."

On another night, Cook raised his hand when an African American drag queen by the name of Rosey Waters asked the audience if anyone would like to learn the ropes of becoming a drag queen performer.

"I wanted big hair and big jewelry," he said. "I wanted everyone to love me."

Rosey took him aside and they made a plan. They spent a Saturday afternoon putting on make-up.

He said Rosey would draw a line down the middle of his face, apply one side of pancake foundation, eye shadow, lipstick and rouge and he would try to recreate the look on the other side. Then they would wash it off and start all over again.

The drag community took Cook in with open arms. Other drag queens lent him old shoes, clothing and feather boas and Poison Marie Waters was born.

The transition was all very natural for Cook, who said he never had any difficulty wearing pounds of makeup or walking in 6-inch heels.

What he had a problem with was stereotypes left over from 70s and 80s era drag culture that sometimes paint an inaccurate picture that all drag queens are sassy sisters with spitfire tongues.

"I don't understand why people have to say, 'Hey, bitch,' when they really just want to say, 'Hi, how are you?'" Cook said.

As Poison, Cook prefers to take the 'hi' road and be nice to everyone and assume everybody will be nice in return, regardless of his race, sexual orientation or the sequins he's wearing.

"I don't go around thinking, 'I want to find the racism here,' or, 'I want to find the homophobia here,'" Cook said. "I think, 'I want to find the beauty in this - or the positivity.'"