Ask Matt Monday: Drag Shows are a Drag at Trans Events

A reader writes: “Why is there usually (always?) a drag show at transgender events? I don’t see how drag kings and drag queens have anything to do with transgender people. Drag queens and drag kings dress up in the opposite gender’s attire and lip sync to music. What does that have to do with living authentically? I personally find it offensive and will not attend any trans events that have drag shows as part of the entertainment.”

Although I have never done drag, I have been to a lot of drag shows and know a lot of drag performers, so I am going to make my best observations and call on readers to fill in the blanks. Here is what I think:

Drag has a long history in the U.S., primarily in the gay and lesbian communities. It is a form of entertainment, and it is taken very seriously. I know drag performers, and particularly drag queens, who spend thousands and thousands of dollars on their costumes, wigs, makeup, and other accoutrement. Drag is really a performance art. But drag is also where everything can get convoluted.

I use a very narrow definition of the term “transgender” (a person whose gender identity and physical body are not in alignment, either all or part of the time), and my definition does not usually include drag performers unless they themselves identify as trans. And some actually do.

There are trans people who “got their start” as drag performers, for various reasons – they did not have another outlet for their gender expression, they did not have a name for what they were feeling and therefore did not how to deal with it, or they assumed that they were gay or lesbian, and drag was an attractive part of that community for someone who needed an “acceptable” way of expressing an “opposite” gender identity.

However, the majority of drag queens and kings I know do not identify as trans, even though they are often subsumed under the larger “trans umbrella” by those who use a broader definition of “transgender” than I do. So one part of the equation is that many people see drag performers as trans (even though the drag performers themselves often do not), and therefore this type of performance art seems at home at a trans conference.

Another part of the equation is that the terms “transgender” and “transsexual” are relatively new. Prior to their widespread use (“transgender” in the activist community, starting, I believe, in the 1970s, and “transsexual” in the medical and psychiatric communities in the 1950s and probably earlier), there were really no identifying “labels” for trans people, and some (though certainly not all) found themselves in the gay and lesbian communities because they had no other community with which to identify, particularly if they were either uninterested in or unable to assimilate into the binary and mainstream male and female culture.

Because of this, in my opinion, our history is inextricably intertwined with gay and lesbian history – which also includes drag, and which also is part of the reason for the “T” in “LGBT,” although quite a few people represented by those initials (both “T” and “LGB”) don’t want the “T” there.

I think a lot of trans people see drag as their history as well, for these and probably many other reasons. Older trans people may see it as part of their “initiation” into a world where “trans” was not yet identified or understood, and where drag was a means to express what was otherwise socially unacceptable – and, until recently, often illegal.

Younger trans people, and people who have some other form of identification, such as genderqueer or gender fluid, may see it as a natural expression of gender fluidity – you can be whoever you want to be and it doesn’t matter. Performing is fun and an outlet for various gender expressions.

I personally don’t have anything against drag shows at a trans event, but I can understand why a trans person – particularly one who is straight and assimilated, or has the goal of assimilation – might find it offensive or confusing.

To an outsider, it can give the impression that we are “pretending” or “putting on a show,” rather than striving to live authentically as who we are. It can lead to equating trans people with drag performers, and while some trans people are also drag performers, and some drag performers are also trans, it is not the same thing.

But because of the overlap that we find in the communities – L, G, B, and T – it will probably continue. And as more gender-fluid young people with a variety of gender and sexual identities move into the roles of conference and event planners, it may become even more standard at such events than it is now.

My only suggestion for those who find it offensive but still want to partake in events is to try to find conferences and social groups that are geared toward more mainstream identifications, and skip any outings to drag clubs or evening conference entertainment that includes these shows. You can let conference planners know of your dislike of such events, but don’t expect a change. I think drag at trans events is here to stay.

Readers, what did I miss, and what are your thoughts?

(Join me for another Ask Matt on Thursday, when we discuss weighing the medical issues involved in taking testosterone.)