The nonbinary Revolutionary leader who preached in Philly during the Revolution
“Philadelphia opened up so many doors for people to challenge what we think was the norm.”

Sometimes when I walk the streets of Old City, I imagine the people of colonial times who walked those roads before me, before Philadelphia was Philly and before this nation secured its liberty and identity.
I mostly think about the smells folks had to endure before indoor plumbing, but I also wonder how those men and women traversed the cobblestone streets in their heeled shoes when I look like a wombat in flip-flips doing it in sneakers.
Before last week, it was only men and women I imagined on the colonial streets of Philadelphia. I didn’t know anyone publicly identified outside of the gender binary back then — or that they could do so without facing persecution.
But the Revolutionary War was a revolutionary time, not just for this country, but for individuals who wanted to explore their own identity and the very concept of identity itself.
In celebration of Pride Month, the Museum of the American Revolution is debuting a new walking tour focused on one such individual, a nonbinary religious leader who called themself the Public Universal Friend and preached in Philadelphia during the 1780s.
I attended a preview of the tour last week, which was led by Meg Bowersox, the museum’s manager of gallery interpretation, whose love for this city and its many stories is infectious.
“What we think of the 18th century and what we think of people may not always be who people actually were,” she told me. “The Revolution was really able to let people experience this new type of change or to kind of test new boundaries, to blow through boundaries that once were and kind of question: What does it mean to be revolutionary?”
‘The verge of death’s door’
Our walking tour started outside the museum at Third and Chestnut Streets, where Bowersox talked about the Friend’s early life, growing up in a large Quaker family in Cumberland, R.I.
“They’re born and named Jemima Wilkinson and they were identified as female at birth,” she said.
For the first 24 years, the Friend lived a pretty average 18th century life, but in 1776, they became ill with a fever (historians think it may have been typhus) and fell into a comatose state for days.
“They’re basically seen to be on the verge of death’s door,” Bowersox said. “Then all of a sudden they’re revived and when they come back to life on their own … they declare themselves basically no longer Jemima Wilkinson, but in fact, the Public Universal Friend.”
The Friend believed they were reborn as a genderless divine spirit whose mission was to preach God’s word — in buildings, churches, or outdoors — and they begin doing so within days of their revelation.
They rejected gendered pronouns and dressed in a long, black ministerial robe with a men’s cravat around their neck. Unlike women of the day, the Friend wore their hair down and often wore a men’s hat, according to Bowersox.
“When they’re asked about who they are and how they dress, they say, ‘I am that I am,’ which is kind of cool,” Bowersox said.
“Like Popeye!” I said. (Yes, I am that person on every tour)
At first, the Friend espoused a belief that the second coming of Christ was imminent and they would be the one to help folks reach salvation, Bowersox said.
“That kind of trickles after the second coming doesn’t happen,” she said.
Undeterred, the Friend continues preaching their beliefs, which Bowersox described as “kind of Quaker and Shaker.”
“It’s an amalgam of different religions, which is kind of cool, but it’s a new religion and they call it the Society of Universal Friends and the followers are called the Friends,” she said. “It was about virtue, this idea of repentance, essentially, and that seems to be the vibe throughout — virtue and repent for your sins and you will get into heaven.”
The Friend was an abolitionist, according to Bowersox, and they preached abstinence, which I learned later in the tour did not result in a thriving congregation.
It’s unknown if any of their followers also identified as nonbinary, Bowersox said, but what is clear is that they stood by their leader and their leader’s identity.
“When newspapers stories are written about them, the followers actually say that [the Public Universal Friend is] nongender … they are of no gender, and if they try to use Jemima, which is their dead name, they would be like, ‘That’s not their name, that’s not who they are,’” Bowersox said.
‘A little bit more funky’
In 1782, after gaining a following in Rhode Island, the Friend came with six followers to Philadelphia, where there was a sizable Quaker population, to try to grow their congregation.
Bowersox’s walking tour took us to places where the Friend preached and stayed, like the Arch Street Meeting House and Elfreth’s Alley. There, she shared stories — sometimes accompanied by visual aids like articles and letters — about how welcomed (or not) the Friend and their followers were here in Philadelphia (let’s just say newspapers do not come out looking good).
Not only was the Friend judged based on their appearance, but some folks also thought they were a liar and blasphemer. There’s even an account Bowersox talks about from the Pennsylvania Gazette — Benjamin Franklin’s newspaper — in which a woman accuses one of the Friend’s followers of attempted murder.
The Friend and their followers end up in Montgomery County and eventually settled in Yates County, N.Y., in the Finger Lakes region, which they called their Jerusalem. Bowersox said the Yates County History Center still has number of the Friend’s belongings, including their hat and carriage, and was instrumental in her research.
While we didn’t visit anywhere I hadn’t been before on the tour, I enjoyed learning new information about places I pass often and the people who came here before us.
“I really like these walking tours because it’s a little bit more funky, if you will, because you’re not inside the museum’s four walls, so really anything could happen,” Bowersox said.
I loved that aspect, too, the sheer Philly-ness of it all. We jaywalked (when it was safe), went through clouds of pot smoke (none of us mentioned), Bowersox ran into several people she knew (because Philly), and we admired passing dogs (on foot and in strollers).
At the end, I asked Bowersox what she learned about Philly and the Public Universal Friend by creating this tour.
“Philadelphia opened up so many doors for people to challenge what we think was the norm,” she said. “As Philadelphia hits the 250th … I think a lot of people are going to be reflecting about the Revolution but also reflecting on this current moment and what does that mean for people? What does that mean for me, for my community?
“I think all of those things are still being questioned like they were in the 18th century, and I think that’s pretty cool,” she said.
The Public Universal Friend walking tour is at 10 a.m. on June 7 and June 21. The tour is $26 per person or $37 for the tour and museum admission.