I relate to drag queens. I’ve worn heavy amounts of makeup, dressed in lavish outfits and sashayed across a stage. Strictly speaking, this was in musical theater, but it was as close to drag as I could get as a child. While the makeup felt excessive at times, I enjoyed dressing up, strutting around and making people laugh on stage. In essence, this is what a drag show is about — theatrics and entertainment — and children would be better off if they experienced it at least once.
The mere suggestion that drag queens perform or read to children is met with immediate pushback in modern society. Public figures have accused drag queens of sexually grooming children, indoctrinating them with queer theory and normalizing pedophilia. Some drag queens themselves have spoken out against family-friendly drag shows. Instead of just labeling these individuals as bigots or xenophobes, I’ll assume they are drastically misinformed. To be fair, most people probably don’t personally know a drag queen.
While I always felt the reaction to drag queens reading to children was overblown, I did sympathize with conservatives on this point: why are we so desperately trying to bring drag queens into children’s lives? This seemed like a reasonable question given that children likely don’t rely on drag queens in order to be well adjusted.
In the eyes of its critics, the implications of drag queens performing for children are deep and pernicious. It means that discussions of gender roles become normalized in childhood; instead of gender being some abstract reality that children must accept, it becomes more palpable and accessible. As a drag queen might say, “You might be a boy, but just put on a wig and some makeup and look what you can become!” At the root of critics’ objections is the fear that drag queens introduce sexuality to children too early on. This is a mischaracterization — drag channels gender through performance, subtly repudiating the idea that gender is only relevant in the way it determines sexuality.
In an effort to protect children from the “predations” of drag queens, parents are doing them a disservice. Drag pedagogy encourages people to express themselves freely, particularly when that means challenging gender norms and defying stereotypes. This philosophy not only benefits children whose parents dictate their identities but also anyone who has felt trapped by the expectations of society at large.
Children are open-minded — they give everyone a chance. A viral video of children meeting a drag queen proves my point: instead of running for the hills, they are fascinated and ask questions to understand the drag queen’s perspective better. While some of them are a bit nervous at first, they approach the situation with curiosity and interest. In all likelihood, their experience meeting a drag queen may have made them more open-minded — attending a drag show would likely have the same impact.
Drag is also just flat-out entertaining. As someone who enjoys stand-up comedy, I view drag as stand-up comedy with extra pizzazz. Where else do you get quotes like “impersonating Beyoncé is not your destiny, child” or “go back to Party City where you belong?” This kind of campy and irreverent humor is exactly what children like and should be able to enjoy just like adults.
More importantly, drag lays bare the fact that life is absurd. Our social constructions around gender are disorienting but also hilarious. Drag demonstrates this by poking fun at the ways society has defined men and women through fashion and physical presentation. Sure, drag queens are funny for their one-liners and unapologetic sass, but also because they prove that gender is in many ways a performative act. Instead of treating this as a burden, they harness it while showcasing their talents, quirks and eccentricities.
Children need to hear the message that life is often absurd and hilarious. Young children usually start with this subconscious knowledge but lose it as they grow up. Friends start judging each other over dress and personality. Social media reminds them that they are never good enough. Schools teach them to be cynical and intellectual. In other words, as they grow up, children develop the idea that life isn’t all that fun.
Drag turns this narrative on its head. Even as a religious individual, I understand that in many ways life is one big joke — we construct the demands we place on ourselves and others. We construct our lifestyles and personalities. Wouldn’t it be better if children understood this? RuPaul seems to know this even if he takes it to the nth degree: “We’re all born naked. The rest is drag.”
If you knew me in fourth grade, you learned a few things about me very quickly. I refused to comb my hair, I loved to wear neon clothing and I donned a fake beard to school every day. I don’t know why I insisted on wearing a beard to school, but I can say that I loved the performance of it — it allowed me to be funny wherever I went. It was transgressive in its own innocent way.
I probably would have enjoyed going to a drag show as a child for the same reasons I enjoyed wearing a beard to school. It would have reinforced my intuition that we should take life with one giant grain of salt. For me, being enveloped in a world of extravagant silliness would have reaffirmed my belief that levity is essential, but for many children it would teach them how performativity can be fun and silly but also fulfilling.
Drag is not just about laughing at life; it reminds people that self-love is fundamental. If raised in a healthy environment, children are loved by their family and friends. But, most children still do not understand self-love — I certainly didn’t. While exposure to drag won’t fix this completely, it will awaken children to the idea that self-love is real and important. As RuPaul so famously said, “If you don’t love yourself, how in the hell [are] you gonna love somebody else?”
Contact Nick Dobbs at ndobbs@oxy.edu
