John Parker is building a media universe that’s helping queer people find each other through storytelling, whether that be on air, online or in the historical record.
Windy City Times readers may know Parker through The Gaily Show, where I guest every other week to break down Chicago’s latest LGBTQ+ news for listeners tuning in from Minneapolis and across the country. The collaboration reflects Parker’s strategy to grow the show beyond a single market and collaborate with local journalists around the country.
The Gaily Show is only one piece of the puzzle.
Parker is also the creator of the author-and-reader podcast This Queer Book Saved My Life and the curator behind the global Queer Armenian Library. The three projects may look different, but they all serve the same purpose: using media to help LGBTQ people see themselves, find each other and stay informed.
The Gaily Show
Parker launched The Gaily Show as a weekly program in 2023, but it didn’t stay that way for long.
When the station asked him to consider a daily format, he initially declined—until the political climate shifted.
“I said a weekly show is all I can handle right now. And then the election happened, and I realized we might need something here on a daily basis,” he said.
The show went daily in January 2025 and now airs every weekday on AM 950 in Minneapolis.
Parker brings on a variety of guests, including queer journalists to report directly from their communities. I join every other Wednesday at 2:30 p.m. CT to deliver Chicago’s latest LGBTQ+ news onAM 950; those segments are rebroadcast onWCPTin Chicago at 5:30 a.m. Thursdays.
Those kinds of partnerships are central to the show’s mission during a moment of intense political pressure on LGBTQ+ communities.
“We need to learn what’s happening in DC to know what’s going to happen in Portland. We need to know what’s happening in Chicago to see what’s coming for Minneapolis,” he said.
While the show is driven by daily news, it also spotlights queer culture and the arts. “We devote Fridays to culture and entertainment,” Parker said. “Queer artists, writers, theater makers and musicians—it’s important because queer people are one of the most censored groups in America today.”
Across subjects and formats, Parker’s goal remains to turn queer radio into a space that informs and connects.
“Media can build the connections our community so often lacks—and we need those connections now more than ever,” he said.
This Queer Book Saved My Life
If the Gaily Show connects queer people through news, Parker’s podcast This Queer Book Saved My Life does it through literature.
The concept is simple but intimate: each episode pairs a guest with the author of a book that profoundly shaped—and sometimes literally saved—their life.
The format emerged in response to pandemic-era book bans and the emotional connections queer readers described to Parker.
“These can be very life saving in a variety of different ways,” Parker said. “Queer literature can give people the language to come out or better understand themselves,” he said.
Parker structures each episode so that he interviews the reader and the author separately before bringing them together on air. Once the conversation begins, he steps back and lets the two talk to each other.
“I get to interview both of them, and then I get to put them in conversation with each other, which is always really magical,” he said.
The project has drawn authors across generations and genres—from Alison Bechdel to Greg Louganis and Jordy Rosenberg—and it earned a GLAAD Media Award nomination within its first three years.
For Parker, the recognition isn’t the point. The impact is.
Every time a guest describes finding themselves in a book for the first time, or an author hears directly from a reader their work helped, This Queer Book Saved My Life reinforces the power of queer representation, Parker said.
The Queer Armenian Library
Parker’s third major project, the Queer Armenian Library, grew out of a gap he felt in his own identity: he had never seen queer Armenian lives reflected in literature.
“It wasn’t until my 30s that I met another queer Armenian, and that was very bizarre to me,” he said.
That absence pushed him to search for queer Armenian books, but the search wasn’t easy.
Parker spent four years digging through online retailers, catalogs and databases, sometimes discovering authors only because they happened to mention their Armenian identity in interviews.
“After about four years, I realized I might have the most comprehensive collection of LGBTQ+ Armenian books anywhere,” he said.
What began as a personal archive became a public resource when he launched the Queer Armenian Library website in 2020. Instead of a simple reading list, he designed individual pages for each title with author background, media links and historical context, helping readers see how each work fits into a larger lineage.
The project is now global. Oxford University houses the first physical Queer Armenian Library collection, and conferences and literary organizations have requested curated shipments of books for exhibitions and readings.
In Armenia, Yerevan’s FEM Library is working to stock the collection so readers can check out titles directly.
The archive has also sparked new writing. Authors have reached out after discovering the library to say they finally realized they weren’t alone—and in some cases, they began creating queer Armenian literature because they now knew it existed.
What started as a search for community has become a growing cultural record.
Parker’s work across the three projects makes one point clear: queer media isn’t just coverage—it’s connection.
“We need to develop the infrastructures that actually support LGBTQ people—not just report on us,” Parker said.