The entertainment industry has long been at the forefront of LGBTQ+ storytelling, shaping culture through film, music and television. But what does allyship look like inside entertainment companies, among the professionals doing the work? If the people creating these stories don’t feel safe to be themselves, what does that mean for the stories they tell?
Eight years ago, I was a first-year associate secretly in a relationship with a woman. I was terrified for anyone to find out. One day, my girlfriend sent me flowers to the office and I panicked. What if someone asked who they were from? A senior associate noticed them and simply said, “Those are beautiful.” No questions. Just warmth. That small, human moment changed everything for me. It told me I was safe. I practice entertainment law, and I think about that moment every time I meet with a creative team.
For Pride Month, as an entertainment litigator, former outside pro bono counsel to GLAAD, and member of the LGBTQ+ community myself, I wanted to find out if others had similar experiences. So I asked LGBTQ+ women and non-binary professionals across the industry to share what allyship has meant to them in real, human moments like mine.
What they shared is a reminder that the most meaningful allyship happens behind the scenes in a writers’ room, on a set or in a hallway conversation.
Michelle (Michi) Raymond – artist and co-founder at LAVICHI Records
“In 2008, I was a lesbian singer-songwriter trying to find my place in the music scene. I had been booked to open for a gay male headliner whose career was much further along than mine. Before the show, he asked the organizers to switch the lineup so I would perform later in the evening. He explained that queer women deserved more visibility in music. For context, this was seven years before marriage equality became law across the United States, and seeing openly LGBTQ+ artists succeed still felt rare. That small act of allyship stayed with me. He didn’t just make space for me on a stage. He showed me that success didn’t have to be a competition. It could be an opportunity to lift others up. I still think about that moment whenever I have the chance to open a door for another artist.”
Tennessee Martin – writer, producer and development executive at Legendary Entertainment
“After I moved to Los Angeles, I met a well-known actress at an event in Beverly Hills. I was a masc-presenting, former athlete but wanted to make a ‘good impression,’ so I wore the only dress I owned. I was so uncomfortable, but we instantly connected and she hired me to be her assistant. One day, she asked me if I was dating anyone. I contemplated whether to tell her the truth. There was a 50-year age gap between us, and I wasn’t sure how she felt about queer people. I cautiously told her I was a lesbian – and I hated wearing dresses. She said most of her favorite people were gay and I should dress however I wanted. I felt so seen and accepted by her and never wore a dress again. We were friends for years after that. You probably knew Dawn Wells as Maryann from ‘Gilligan’s Island.’ I knew her as my first industry mentor and friend.”
Nicole Conn – writer, director and producer of “Elena Undone,” “A Perfect Ending” and “More Beautiful for Having Been Broken”
“One of the most meaningful lessons I’ve learned about allyship came from someone I never expected. A man from a very different background and worldview found one of my films completely by accident. He enjoyed it so much that he watched all of my films and eventually reached out to me. We came from very different worlds and held very different views, yet over time we developed a genuine friendship. What struck me wasn’t that either of us changed who we were. It was that we were willing to be curious about one another. Through many honest conversations, we moved beyond assumptions and stereotypes and simply connected as people and really liked one another. As a filmmaker, I’ve seen storytelling do that again and again. Stories allow us to see one another as human first. To me, allyship begins there.”
Ada Rannels – programming manager at VidCon
“I was so excited to tell everyone in my office when I got engaged, but almost everyone’s first question was, ‘Who’s the lucky guy?’ Or if they remembered I was with a woman, ‘So how does that work?’ It made me feel awful, so I stopped telling people. Around this time, VidCon moved into our office space. When I introduced myself, someone noticed my ring and asked if I was engaged. I said yes. They were the only person to ask, ‘What’s the person’s name?’ It was a small difference in the question, but it made me feel seen and safe. I knew right then I wanted to work with them. I’m now going into my second year as the programming manager for VidCon.”
Amber Kronquist – former SVP of Business Affairs at Super Deluxe
“My very first job was at the Century City office of a national law firm. As a first-year associate, I mentioned to a few colleagues that I planned to propose to my then-girlfriend over the weekend. When I returned to the office the following week, I found balloons waiting for me along with a card signed not only by my fellow first-years, but by colleagues throughout the office. What may have seemed like a small gesture to those who organized it was incredibly meaningful to me. Their support and allyship made me feel seen, valued and welcomed exactly as I was. It reinforced that I had chosen the right place to begin my career in the entertainment industry.”
Quinn Kirby – marketing manager at Mattress Factory Contemporary Art Museum
“I used to work at a chamber of commerce. Friends questioned why I’d choose a space where I was the first non-binary person many people had met and was likely to be misgendered. Still, as a cissexual non-binary person, I carry certain privileges and hoped my conversations about gender might make things easier for whoever came next. Months later, someone I’d met through work reached out to share that their child came out as trans. Having space to practice my pronouns helped them affirm their child correctly right away. That’s my why. Today, I’m fortunate to work in an arts space where people usually get my pronouns right immediately. Now, I benefit from whoever was the first non-binary person my current colleagues encountered. LGBTQIA2S+ or allied, our relationship is symbiotic. We help each other.”
Paula Boggs – musician, leader of Paula Boggs Band and former EVP and general counsel at Starbucks
“A few days ago, my band was in-studio at a radio station to play three songs from our new album and be interviewed by the radio host. Our final song, ‘Still Grateful,’ honors my decades-long relationship and marriage. The host didn’t just ask why I’d written the song. He asked how my wife and I met, to which I responded, ‘At risk of cliché, we met at a brunch!’ He even asked if I could recall what I ate! This naturally flowing and sometimes funny conversation meant so much to me. Through his platform, the host was a true LGBTQ+ ally. Every couple has an origin story and he unflinchingly shared ours with his radio listeners.”
Jennifer Klear – entertainment and media attorney, former VP of legal affairs at Talk WW Production, Inc. dba “Sherri” and “The Wendy Williams Show”
“Coming out at work felt like a bombshell since I discovered my bisexuality later in life. Fear consumed me. To unburden myself, I confided in an openly gay male colleague. Sitting in his office, I cried as I told him. He met my tears with a warm hug, love and support. Emboldened, I next opened up to a female executive. I braced myself for distance, but instead, she shared that she was bisexual too. I felt instant relief and a sudden sense of community. Then, I shared my truth with a colleague from a conservative culture. To my profound relief, she offered full support. My workplace had always been a safe space, just waiting for me to discover it.”
Christel S. Miller – senior creative executive at Fabel Entertainment
“‘But I’m a Cheerleader’ was the film that changed my life and brought me into my sexuality. In college, I invited Jamie Babbit to come screen the film and speak. Getting to know her gave me the confidence to get into the business after graduation. Twenty years later, I was finally in a position to make shows that could make a difference for queer youth. I was so moved when my boss and ally helped me champion and green light Clea Duvall’s award-winning series ‘High School,’ based on Tegan and Sara’s memoir, along with Norman Lear’s final series ‘Clean Slate’ starring Laverne Cox at Freevee/Amazon Studios. You always need an ally in the room to get our stories told, and she went to the mat for us in a way I’ll never forget.”
Mel Harris – law student and former VP of Partnerships at GLAAD
“I came out almost 10 years ago into an evangelical family and community where I had no queer role models and few friendly faces. The rejection and attempts at conversion that followed resulted in a serious suicide attempt, which landed me in the cardiac ICU. During that time of isolation, the people who reached me were strangers on a screen: LGBTQ+ characters, actors and musicians who owned their truth – and through their courage, gave me back my own. Shame loosened its grip. Hope returned. Seven years later, I stood on the top floor of the Grammy Museum in Los Angeles at a fundraiser sharing my story with a room filled with entertainers, creators and philanthropists. Storytelling holds the power to humanize a community that others have worked to villainize. What looks like ‘entertainment’ may actually be a lifeline keeping someone alive long enough to use their own voice.”
These stories demonstrate how small moments of intentional, thoughtful allyship can make a big impact. It’s less about grand gestures and more about listening without judgment and making space for people to feel safe to be themselves.
In an industry with unparalleled power to shape cultural attitudes around LGBTQ+ acceptance, that kind of allyship matters more than it might seem. When LGBTQ+ individuals inside entertainment companies feel seen and supported, they bring their full selves to the work. And that makes for better (more authentic, more accurate and more human) stories.
Ashlee Difuntorum is a litigator at leading entertainment law firm Kinsella Holley Iser Kump Steinsapir LLP (KHIKS) and former outside pro bono counsel to GLAAD.
