In a troubling resurgence of attacks against the LGBTQ+ community, drag queens have found themselves in the crosshairs. Drag, the art of dressing in exaggerated female clothing and makeup for entertainment, is nothing new. It has roots in Shakespearean theater and flourished during Vaudeville and the Harlem Renaissance, eventually becoming a mainstay of Queer culture.
Recent legislative efforts in states like Tennessee, Texas, Florida, and Montana to ban or restrict drag performances, often under the guise of protecting children, have been met with legal challenges and considerable rebukes. The focus on drag queen story hours, where drag performers read to children, has been particularly intense, with opponents making unfounded accusations of sexualization and grooming. These claims are not only baseless but also ignore the long history of drag as a form of artistic expression and entertainment enjoyed by people of all ages.
Despite the misinformation and fearmongering, the reality of drag is far more benign. Most drag performances are not overtly sexual, and those geared towards children are even more seemly. Many of us have seen drag in mainstream movies like Mrs. Doubtfire and Big Momma, and it's not unusual for drag queens to wear more clothing than the average beachgoer.
As someone who attended several drag performances during Pride Month, I can attest to their harmless and entertaining nature. Most of the performances I saw were in festive adult settings, and even these were genteel — One queen performed soulful rendition of disco classics at club disco night. Others lip-synced songs by Miley Cyrus and musical show tunes. None were remotely offensive. It seems the outrage over drag is largely fueled by those who have never actually experienced it.
The bottom line is that drag is a form of entertainment, not a threat. The current uproar over drag performances is less about protecting children and more about targeting the Queer community. It's another desperate attempt to marginalize a group that is increasingly accepted and integrated into society. The real danger lies not in drag queens reading stories to children, but in the harmful rhetoric and discriminatory actions that threaten the safety and well-being of the Queer community. Maybe if educators found a way for drag queens read to Louisiana public school students instead of mandating posters of the Ten Commandments in classrooms, they wouldn’t rank near the bottom in education standards for states.