Drag became popular; then came protests
On a sweltering Saturday morning in July, several dozen people steeled themselves for a fight outside a library in the quiet Kensington, Md., suburb.
They were defending something they saw as essential and were willing to put themselves on the line for it: a story time for toddlers, led by a drag queen.
But recent threats toward the drag community serve as a reminder that not everyone is ready to welcome them. In June, members of the far-right Proud Boys stormed into another Drag Queen Story Hour in California, yelling homophobic and transphobic remarks and prompting a hate-crime investigation. Later that month, a man carrying a rifle outside a drag story time in Nevada sent families running for cover. The same day, library security escorted a group of protesting men out of a drag program in Silver Spring, Md. Other events have been canceled out of fear of backlash.
At the Kensington event, a small group of protesters stood across the parking lot, filming the counterprotesters and occasionally engaging them in arguments over religious objections to drag.
The growing appeal of drag, which showcases the fluidity of gender, has become a beacon of progress for many in the LGBTQ community, as has an increasing number of transgender and gender-nonconforming people openly challenging rigid gender norms. But performers say the increase in protests and violence at events threatens to drive drag back underground, and with it an important symbol of visibility.
Drag performers themselves are rattled. “We’re reaching one of those culminating points where the scale has got to tip,” Bella Naughty, a drag queen who performs in the D.C. area, said at the Maryland library counterprotest.
In the past two decades, the venues for drag have shifted from underground nightclubs to drag brunches and corporate events. And so too has the audience, from mostly gay men to teenage girls, straight adults and even toddlers, since Drag Queen Story Hour was founded in 2015 and expanded to nearly 50 chapters nationwide. Now, drag can be a viable full-time career.
Performers credit the rapid mainstreaming to two primary factors: the internet, which allowed drag to reach a wider audience at home, and RuPaul’s Drag Race, the Emmy Award-winning reality show now in its 14th season.
For drag queens featured on the show — in which they compete in challenges to be crowned “America’s next drag superstar” — it can be life-changing.
As drag expands to new venues, it has also become more of a target for attacks.
“There is a big backlash of people being like, ‘OK, well, you guys have had enough,’ ” said D’Manda Martini, a drag queen in Washington.
Martini was leading a Drag Queen Story Hour at a library in Silver Spring in late June when at least three men without children walked in and began to film her reading, she said. They soon interjected, yelling about how Martini would face God’s judgment.
Because many drag performers believe the profession has helped increase visibility for the LGBTQ community, they see the recent attacks as threatening more than just drag.
Ben Schatz, who has been performing drag for more than 40 years and founded the drag a cappella quartet Kinsey Sicks, said he sees the protests as “backlash to the mainstreaming of the LGBT community” and that drag is simply a front line.
“It’s a convenient target — it’s easier than making [U.S. Transportation Secretary] Pete Buttigieg sound scary to make someone like me sound scary,” Schatz said.