On this day in queerstory: The Captive shocks Broadway with queer storyline

September 29: a date that’s had its highs, its heartbreaks, its artistic risktakers, and its people who changed the game just by being who they were.

One of the oldest entries tied to this day comes from 1926, when The Captive, a Broadway melodrama starring a young woman seduced by an older woman (her so-called “shadow”), caused a stir. The play’s lesbian undertones were controversial, scandalous even, in the eyes of the period. But for many queer people, The Captive was more than scandal – it was visibility, an early sign that queer stories could be told on big stages, not hidden in whispers.

Fast forward a few decades: on September 29, 1973, one of the great poets, W. H. Auden, passed away in Vienna. Auden was English-American, known for his dazzling control of form and tone, his exploration of politics, love, morality, as well as queer identity (though much of it was indirect or coded, as was necessary in his time). His work inspired many queer artists who came after, partly because he showed that a rich, multifaceted life could include queer love, desire, longing, and still be taken seriously in the highest literary circles.

But not all of September 29’s stories are about art or legacies of poets. Some are painful reminders. In 2004, FannyAnn Viola Eddy – a pioneering lesbian and gay rights activist in Sierra Leone – was murdered in the office of the Sierra Leone Lesbian and Gay Association. She was one of the few people outspoken on LGBTQ rights in a place where that was both dangerous and radical. Her death wasn’t simply a personal tragedy; it was a shock to the movement, a reminder of how precarious visibility and activism could be in places still struggling with discrimination, violence, and silence.

So what connects The Captive, Auden, and FannyAnn Eddy? They all show that queer history isn’t monolithic. It’s made of many voices: some artistic, some activist, some tragic – and always courageous. On September 29 we see both the joy of recognition (the writing, the stage, the poem) and the cost of being out and speaking up. We see someone daring to tell a story, someone daring to be visible, someone paying an awful price for doing so.

And there’s something in that contrast that teaches us: progress is uneven. There are moments of shining breakthrough, and moments of horror. The stories don’t erase each other; they build a fuller picture. For some, The Captive might have felt revolutionary – not just because of its plot but because of the line it crossed into public view. For others, Auden was proof that queer literature is part of the canon, not a footnote. And for many, FannyAnn Eddy is a hero whose legacy asks us to keep working so her fight – and her life – weren’t in vain.

Today, September 29 invites reflection on how far queer art has traveled, how loud queer voices have become – and also on all the people still facing risks for just being themselves. It’s a day to remember the artists, the activists, the lives lost, the words written, and the stories told.

So here’s to September 29: to the melodramas and the poems, to the voices that defied silence, to the lives cut short, and to the work that continues. It’s not always pretty. It’s not always safe. But it’s always necessary.