Tiktok
Where Sewing Machines Meet Solidarity: The Unfiltered World of a Protest Artist
If you've scrolled through TikTok long enough, you've probably felt that moment when a creator's video stops your thumb mid-swipe. For @__queenjean, it happens when she’s adjusting the red soutache trim on a protest crown between explaining why visibility alone doesn’t pay rent. Qween Jean (she goes by her full chosen name off-platform) isn’t just another activist with a phone—she’s a New York-based costume designer who treats protest like runway art. When she led the Brooklyn Liberation March, she showed up in hand-embroidered white lace with a chiffon slip and a train "sensible enough for marching but regal enough for Marsha P. Johnson." That’s her signature blend: high-fashion craftsmanship meets unapologetic Black trans joy.
Born in Haiti and raised in Miami before settling in NYC, Jean’s journey wasn’t linear. She’s talked about curling up with James Baldwin novels as a teen while wrestling with gender dysphoria, learning to sew from her grandmother’s dressmaking lessons. Now with an NYU Tisch master’s under her belt, she stitches together outfits for theater productions by day—but you’ll find her where most need her: the frontlines. Last year’s Greenwich Village Pride protest landed her in cuffs (officially for "using a bullhorn without a permit"), but in her words, it was for "just being herself." For Jean, the megaphone *is* the mic, and the sidewalk *is* the stage.
What makes her TikTok feed magnetic isn’t polish—it’s the raw behind-the-scenes moments. She’ll film chipped nail polish while unpicking a seam for a protest garment, then pivot to dissecting how institutions "put us on a pedestal for trans visibility without investing in trans vitality." One video shows her rescuing wilted orchids from her dismantled march crown, tucking them into street grates with a whisper: "Share the love, baby." She’s dead serious about her mantra—"exposure doesn’t pay the rent"—but never loses the warmth of a Haitian auntie sliding you extra rice.
Jean’s magic is making resistance feel like a block party. While designing ceremonial whites for thousands of marchers, she’ll shout over sewing machine din: "We’re not defined by the pain—we redefine *with* love!" Followers say her videos feel like a hug from someone who’s survived the storm but still hands you an umbrella. When she posts clips of trans youth trying on custom-designed prom gowns, comments flood in: "You made my cousin cry happy tears." That’s her compass: "We’re on the frontlines of *everyone’s* liberation."
At 38, Jean’s still unlearning the idea that rest is selfish—a lesson she shares while stretched on her Bushwick sofa, paint-splattered feet up after a 14-hour day. Her content isn’t about slaying; it’s about *sustaining*. Whether she’s teaching followers to thrift-dye protest sashes or calling out brands that tokenize trans voices during Pride month, she keeps it real: "Revolution is love with calloused hands." Swipe her profile, and you’ll find hope that doesn’t gloss over the grind.