You know her for the wigs, the wit, and the wild stage presence—but drag queen Kochina Rude is adding a new title to her résumé: lifesaver. This San Francisco queen isn’t just hosting packed drag nights; she’s handing out Narcan like party favors and training audiences on how to reverse opioid overdoses—all without killing the vibe.
It all started in 2021 when Rude used her own stash of intranasal naloxone to revive someone at a party. That moment sparked a fierce realization: queer spaces, often a haven from stigma and judgment, were lacking critical education around overdose prevention. So Rude, already a trainer with SF’s Drug Overdose Prevention and Education (D.O.P.E.) Project, took the mission to the stage—literally.
“I realized that my community was not getting the information they needed about how to reverse an overdose,” Rude said. “I was in a unique position to engage queer audiences about practicing safer drug use.” And engage she did—with humor, flair, and a killer pair of heels.
High Heels and Harm Reduction
Rude’s approach is unapologetically camp: think call-and-response, drag banter, and kindergarten-style repetition—all in under five minutes. Between lip-sync numbers and punchlines, she teaches club-goers how to use Narcan, the medication that blocks opioid effects and brings people back from the brink.
“Treat the audience like a kindergarten class,” she joked, explaining her method. “No big words, keep it simple, end on a high note.” She knows how to keep it light, even when talking about life-or-death decisions. That’s not just talent—it’s community care in its fiercest form.
Her shows became so impactful that in 2023, San Francisco made it official. The city’s Entertainment Commission partnered with the Department of Public Health to launch the Overdose Prevention in Nightlife campaign, appointing Rude as a drag ambassador. Since then, nearly 400 doses of naloxone have been distributed, and over 1,200 queer nightlife attendees have been trained to use it.
Dylan Rice, the campaign’s project manager, says the initiative proves that “government, artists, and nightlife spaces can work collaboratively to address a public health or public safety issue and to inspire action.” In short: let the queens lead.
No Shame, All Love
But Rude’s mission isn’t just about medical facts. It’s also about breaking down stigma. “As queer people, we are already used to facing stigma from the straight world,” she said. “We’ve faced health crises before—HIV, AIDS, Mpox—and we’ve survived by sharing knowledge and lifting each other up.”
She’s not pulling punches when it comes to the double standards around drug use either. “There is no moral difference between a weekend warrior snorting bumps of cocaine on the dance floor versus a homeless person smoking fentanyl on a street corner,” she declared. “Don’t judge drug users. I actually mean all drug users.”
Rude’s campaign is a reminder that queer communities, so often marginalized, are also incredibly resourceful. By turning drag shows into health education hubs, she’s redefining what community support looks like—one Narcan spray and one show at a time.
And honey, if saving lives isn’t drag excellence, what is?