Remembering Isa Rached: Long Beach queer advocate dead at 38

Isa Rached, co-owner of The “B” Room in Downtown Long Beach and longtime queer advocate, passed on Jan. 2 from a brain aneurysm that occured on Dec. 30. He was 38 years old and is survived by his mother, Rocio; father, Hector; two sisters, Vanna and Josie; three nephews, Abraham, Jayden, Naithan; and his niece, Evelyn

Of course, deaths—particularly those of people who were so effortlessly generous, kind, and enthusiastic about life—are always difficult to write about, let alone singularly encapsulate. That burden becomes two-fold when the person lost dies at an age that rightfully confuses, angers, and just downright dampens the family, friends, patrons, and legacy left behind.

To donate to fundraising efforts for his funeral, click here.

Isa Rached’s exuberance for the day-to-day human life was infectious, ever since he opened the doors of The “B” Room.

I met Isa for the first time almost ten years ago to the day, back in December of 2014 when him, his mother Rocio, and his sister Josie, were first opening the doors to The “B” Room. They had just moved from Beaumont, the small Riverside city of around 30,000 people nestled at the nexus of the 10 and 60 freeways.

It was instantaneously a queer space—and not because Isa adorned the space with rainbows, no. It was because he unabashedbly accepted his queerness and the need for gay boys to have “a barbershop that felt like a salon.” For any queer boy, that made immediate sense: Barbershops were spaces filled with straight masculinity, with many shops outright denying women, trans people, or feminine-presenting men. If you were able to play the part, as a gay guy, you would often keep your mouth shut on personal matters and, heaven forbid, discussions on your very rights as a human existing in the world.

And this was all “in the name of just taking care of yourself,” Isa told me. “That’s unfair. We won’t turn back anyone. And if you want to talk about your big gay marriage, do it. If you want to talk about your transition, do it. You wanna have some chisme with the girls? We’re here for you.”

Boosted by his own struggles, Isa’s warmth extended to everyone and led him to his philanthropic efforts.

Chisme indeed: It wouldn’t be a normal day at The “B” Room if you weren’t hearing the Racheds talking in Spanish or English with a patron sitting in the chair. It could be about relatives in Mexico or some Downtown drama or drag queens or, more often than not, someone needing some uplift and Isa returning it right back. But no matter the conversation, it was led with love and openness—a characteristic Isa exuded in an effortlessness few are blessed with.

It was this incredible warmth that soon built him a roster of friends and patrons that spanned SoCal and beyond. It led him to fight for immigrants with the Long Beach Immigrant Rights Coalition, reflected in his own struggles coming from Mexico.

It led him to create “It’s a Drag to Give,” one of the largest queer-centric philanthropic efforts in the city, where everyone—boy or girl, gay or straight or anywhere in between, trans or cis—was asked to don drag for the first time in the name of giving back.

In the words of Austin Metoyer, president and CEO of the Downtown Long Beach Alliance, “Isa Rached could brighten your day with a smile. Make you feel welcomed with a laugh. And provide comfort with a hug… What he, Josie, and their mother built at The ‘B’ Room is more than a business. It’s become a home, a gathering place for community, and a cornerstone of our Downtown. Isa was my friend and my sister in drag, and his light and laughter will be profoundly missed.”

For Isa, family always came first—something that profoundly moved his philanthropic side—and if anything, the Racheds were a unit that moved as one.

Born McKinely Rached, Isa was a proud native of Mexico while living in the States, as are his mother and sisters, particularly Josie. Together, the trio exemplified a sense of family that was rare this side of the border: Living in close proximity and doing business nearly every day with one’s family could actually be as fruitful and fulfilling as it was beautifully formidable.

While individualism reigns supreme in most American families, Isa, with Rocio and Josie, showcased the power of familial fortitude. And it was this firmness of purpose that not only led Isa’s philanthropic side but made The “B” Room an inspirational small business for the Downtown. Through the neighborhood’s wild roller coaster of a past decade, Isa and his family have remained stalwart stewards of DTLB.

Standing between the salon’s two clutch antiques when The “B” Room first opened—beautiful, plush, red velvet Ernest Koken-designed barber chairs, one with a Koken Kandle towel holder, more straight-lined in design, and another with a round back and seat, both with gorgeous wood and gold detailing—Isa exuded an excitement for its expansion. And these two pieces acted as a metaphor for something bigger and better.

He had big dreams for The “B” Room, always saying he wanted more space—and more space he did: The “B” Room has expanded across its decade of service, offering private massage rooms, cold plunges, and anything else that reflected Isa’s love of healthy mind and body. Whether he admitted to it or not, his success was directly connected to his kindness.

Isa’s vigil will be—rightfully so—held at Harvey Milk Promenade Park in DTLB.

City officials have assured attendees that the park’s current fencing will be removed for the memorial and the Downtown Long Beach Alliance will be on hand to assure the space is clean.

“Isa was a bright light, a community leader, a friend, and an incredible human being,” said Congressman Robert Garcia. “Always kind. Always smiling. And always fighting for others… His good works and legacy of service will live on through his family and friends. We will miss him immensely.”

A personal note about Isa Rached…

As someone who has been writing about this city for over 15 years, these things never become easier. Like the loss of Joshua Fischel… Or the loss of Chef Art Gonzalez… And the loss of Chef Janice Dig Cabaysa… The loss of Isa isn’t just the loss of a leader but of a friend. And while I will leave the majority of storytelling about his legacy and effect to those who were far closer to him than I, I would like you to indulge me on one of my last interactions with Isa.

“It’s a Drag to Give” is a massive undertaking: Coordinating the people and venue space, gathering people who are willing to perform, collecting the raised money… And Isa has asked me multiple times to participate. This year, he was exuberantly looking forward to asking me, as it was the return of the show after a long hiatus.

And like many who understood his comforting nature, I was honest: “I would absolutely love to—but with my weight gain across the years, I simply don’t feel comfortable because I wouldn’t be able to give the performance I want to.” This was, initially, all via text—and he hearted my text and said he totally understood.

Several weeks later, when he was cutting my hair, he said, “I understand body issues, Brian—I do. I try to work on my body all the time and sometimes I love it and sometimes I want a lot more. But just know this: We love you because of you, not your body. And whether you believe it or not, I know you would have killed it on that stage.”

That was Isa for you—and rather than compound a loss, I am quite sure he would just want to see people reflect that spirit more.

To donate to fundraising efforts for his funeral, click here.