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PJ Lale – Art as Protest, Art as Healing
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When PJ Lale — who performs as Lady J — enters a space, it becomes a conversation. Not just through his striking artistry or unapologetic presence, but through the lived experience he carries into every room. PJ’s existence is a bold, vibrant work of art — one that challenges assumptions, creates safe spaces, and celebrates the richness of being one’s full self.
PJ (he/him) is a performer, visual artist, and creative force who embraces his femininity with pride and purpose. His practice is deeply rooted in cultural identity, queerness, and authenticity — speaking directly to the lived truths of those who are often asked to make themselves small. We discuss his identity as a proud Samoan man who identifies as fa’afafine, the third gender in Samoan culture. “We are born as male but explicitly embody femininity,” he says. This recognition of third-gender identities is not unique to Samoa. PJ reflects on how many First Nations cultures around the world have long understood gender as fluid, expansive, and sacred — and how empowering it is to live outside the binary when that is your truth.
Raised in Griffith, PJ experienced the kind of hyper-visibility familiar to many queer, gender-diverse, and culturally distinct people in regional towns. “Standing out in a small town — that’s my life,” he laughs. When PJ joined the Horizons program — an initiative designed to support young regional creatives — he found more than just professional development. He found community, healing, and a glimpse of what life could be. The program’s key pillars — work readiness, wellbeing, connectivity, and community — came to life for PJ in ways both personal and profound.
Over a weekend in Sydney, PJ and fellow participants connected with mentors, explored potential career pathways, and built networks across the state. But just as importantly, PJ was given the space to feel like part of something bigger — to simply be among others like him. “It was probably the best moment of my life,” he says. “Being around other people like me — creatives, artists from small country towns — it was liberating to flow among the city.” Watching people live freely, wear what they want, say what they feel, and be accepted without question — “That was art in itself.”
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PJ’s connection to art began early, as a means of survival as much as self-expression. High school was a difficult time. He remembers the silences that followed him into rooms, the judgement, the fear — his own and others’. But it was also where he met a few rare champions: adults who encouraged him, believed in his potential, and never sugar-coated the challenges ahead. “They gave me permission to take up space,” he says — a gift he now pays forward in everything he does.
Our conversation turns to the quiet forces who helped him through — not just teachers, but the creative arts department as a whole, the librarians who made space for curiosity, and the office staff whose everyday kindness did not go unnoticed. PJ acknowledges the many unsung heroes of arts and culture who help queer youth feel seen: those who quietly make room for authenticity and show up, day after day. His authentic way of speaking so passionately about those who held space for him shows just how important such people are in the lives of our youth.
Today, PJ works a day job in a supportive, wholesome environment where he is encouraged to be his true self. He is living proof that an arts career does not have to follow a traditional path to be valid or valuable. “Polynesian kids are made to think that art is not a real job — that it will not support your family,” he reflects. “But our culture is full of art. The authenticity of it — you cannot lie. I use my culture in my artistry because it is real, and it is mine.”
PJ’s future is brimming with possibilities. He will soon perform at the Leeton Pride Festival, bringing his magnetic energy and fierce spirit to local celebrations of visibility and community. PJ talks to me about how Queer culture, too, is woven through all parts of society — a truth PJ feels proud to carry forward. “We’re standing up and out now because of the generations that fought to stand up and out before us,” he says. But right now, he is most excited about his next venture — stepping into the world of Ballroom.
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For PJ, Ballroom culture — a vibrant, queer subculture born from Black and Latinx communities in 1970s Harlem — is more than just inspiration. It is home. “Ballroom has been healing,” he says. “It has been the safe space that I didn’t have growing up.” Within this expressive world of chosen families and performance, PJ has found deep resonance — especially through the movement of vogue. “It’s protest,” he says. “It’s where I can just sit in my truth.” In Ballroom, PJ moves not to impress, but to affirm his existence — to embody resistance, pride, and peace all at once.
“All these Queens bring light into my life that I never knew I needed,” he says. “Rocky Stallone is a proud Queer Samoan man who makes me feel so safe in my culture. Seeing someone who looks like me, who walks this path proudly — that’s everything.” The way PJ speaks about Rocky Stallone – a larger than life ballroom figure himself - and how it effects him to see another proud Samoan man living his creative truth can be heard in his voice, and seen on his face. People have power in their kindness and raw selves, and that power has made a visual impact on PJ as both an artist and a person. PJ is not just inspired by others. His courage, authenticity, and artistry are already creating that same sense of safety and possibility for others. “Maybe someone will see me and think, ‘I can do that too,’” he reflects.
PJ will soon travel to Sydney to attend a Vogue Ball — not just to perform, but to take the mic. “Honestly, I can't wait to get on that mic and say whatever I want,” he says with a grin. “But really, it’s about being surrounded by my community — feeling that energy, that love. That’s everything.” Ballroom has sharpened PJ’s sense of what art can be: protest, healing, joy, and defiance all at once. It has also offered him a space where he does not have to explain himself — a space of knowing, solidarity, and safety. With the support of icons like Patty 007, who has championed his presence in these spaces, PJ is set to keep rising through the Ballroom scene — growing in his truth in ways yet to be seen.
PJ is unafraid to speak the truth, especially when it challenges the norm. “Oh, I protest every day,” he says. His work is for the hidden ones, the voices stifled by fear or rejection. It is raw, authentic, and full of heart. He creates not just to be seen, but to make space — to stand boldly so others know they can too.
At Western Riverina Arts, we are honoured to walk alongside PJ as he continues to expand his practice, embrace his identity, and lift others up along the way. From the arch of his brow to the flick of his wrist — we can not wait to see him soar.
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Written by Zooey Korhonen, Western Riverina Arts Communications Officer
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Photographs: Zooey Korhonen - Western Riverina Arts. Location: Banna Lane, Griffith.
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